Is it possible to only love half of someone? Ever since the incident with Greg I had been unable to look at Daz in the same way. I used to look into his eyes and see the grey mist surrounding the pupil, now I see the dark, dangerous and impulsive pupil. I used to hear his voice and hear the poetic content and flamboyant words, now I hear the mocking, emotionless tone. I used to hold his hand and feel his soft, flawless skin, now I feel his firm, overpowering hold over me. It's like I can see two parts of every feature he has, and I am only capable of loving half of them. Everything that drew me in has an alter-ego that pushes me away. But worse of all I felt like I had changed. My curiosity had stripped me of my innocence. It had brought out my dark alter-ego. It had split my features in two.
"Here, listen to the radio if you like." Daz told me, handing me his phone and headphones. We were walking again, he'd woken up this morning and changed direction, heading to Manchester instead of London. I took the phone and plugged in the headphones, tuning into to which ever FM I found first. The song that came on was Beyonce, Sweet Dreams. It was ironic how well suited the song was to my current situation. I knew the real reason Daz had given me the phone was to avoid conversation, he'd been very moody since Greg. As if his words had really hurt him, I couldn't sympathize for him, Daz had really hurt Greg with his punches. As the song ended the news updates came on.
"In Local News, teenage boy Greg Williams was found dead in an alley way last night. A female had called an ambulance on Greg's phone 20 minutes before the ambulance arrived. She was believed to of fled the scene after the phone call, her motive unclear. Witnesses say they saw a man in black enter the alley way at around 1:15pm, some say a woman, also clothed in black, followed a few minutes after. They are the prime suspects for the murder and police are working on prints and identifying the culprits. The cause of death; Greg Williams was beaten."
My breath fell short from my chest, Greg was dead. Daz had beaten Greg to death last night, I'd left him, and he'd closed his eyes. Me and Daz were the prime suspects for his murder, Daz was guilty. I didn't feel worry for my own sake, I felt remorse and an odd form of selfish guilt. Greg's last words had been 'Screw you, save yourself' , he'd used the last of his strength pushing me away, his dying wish had been for me to keep my activities secret from Daz. I'd granted his dying wish hadn't I? Then why did I feel like I'd done the wrong thing? Could I hate Daz for the murder, when I'd walked away from Greg too? I felt my eyes bulge with tears, I saw a public toilet, and used it as an opportunity.
"Do you mind?" I asked Daz, signaling to the toilet. He shook his head and I went inside. I looked in the mirror as my tears began to fall. I grabbed a handful of paper towels and began to dry my eyes, but for every tear that was dried, two more fell. I threw the towels in the bin and tried to center myself. I took deep breaths in, deep breaths out. I shut my eyes and calmed my frenzied mind. Once calm, I splashed my face with water and dried it off. I looked in the mirror again. My face was red from crying, my eyes were damp and bloodshot. I couldn't face Daz like this. Unfortunately, Daz got tired of waiting. The door swung open, and he came in.
"This is the Ladies toilet Daz, there's even a sign on the door." I spoke, my head hung in humiliation and shame.
"I'm illiterate." He replied sarcastically, though in a serious tone.
"What do you want?" I asked, getting too the point. I shuddered when I felt his cool hand touch my shoulder.
"There's something wrong with you." He stated the obvious.
"There must be, I ran away with a madman." I tried to sway the topic.
"I don't mean in general, I mean right now. Your upset, extremely upset. Your not talking, your barely listening and your not even bothering to be subtle about it." He explained to me, stroking my back.
"I'm just a little tired." I told him, I was tired, tired of the regret and remorse he had caused, and was causing, me.
"You can't hide from me, shadow." He reminded me, using my nickname to try and break me. I pushed past him, out the door of the toilet, I needed some air. He followed after, then leaned against the door in a casual stance, waiting for me to speak.
Have you ever had a moment of sudden bravery? A do and no think moment? A say then regret moment? I had one of those moments. Greg was dead, it was partially my fault, I was already damned, so why stop, I opened my mouth and denied his dying wish by saying,
"You killed Greg."