(y/n)'s POV

The school day's end came as dreadfully slowly as its beginning. I was exhausted, mostly emotionally, and ready to pass out of my bed. I had just gotten out of the doors when I felt something brush my arm.

I soon saw the dark figure of Jason Dean looming over me with an unreadable expression resting on his face.

"Hey," he said casually after a couple seconds of just looking at one another.

"Hey yourself," I replied awkwardly. Heather was waiting for me, and I wanted to get back to her. Something about JD's demeanor was making me feel even more uneasy than I had been this morning.

"Can I talk to you? Behind the school? It'll only take a minute," he asked simply. I nodded, feeling a bit guilty as I glanced to the cherry red Porsche that I'd grown to love. It was empty as of now, so Heather probably got held up anyway.

He grabbed my wrist with an iron grip that made my skin crawl as he started to drag me behind the school. I reluctantly followed, though it wasn't like I exactly had a choice. We turned a corner and I followed him helplessly, ignoring my bad feeling about this.

We got the our destination and he dropped my hand, and I had half the mind to bolt from there. I stood still, though, and he looked around cautiously.

"So, have you heard about Kurt and Ram?" He asked casually, but I noticed a hint of excitement in his face, which gave me a sick feeling in my gut.

"Yeah, I have. It's a real shame," I said, and I surely wasn't lying.

"Is it, though? I mean, they were both jerks and awful people. You would know," he said.

"That doesn't mean that they deserved to die." I told him evenly, holding on desperately to my composure.

"Yes they did. I killed them for a reason, (y/n)," he said, taking a step closer. I felt my stomach drop to the floor as he grabbed my wrist.

"You- you couldn't have!" I gasped, trying to yank my arm back but his grip was too tight.

"Didn't I just say I did? You don't listen too well, do you?" He teased, but it didn't come off as a joke. I couldn't hardly hear him, I was afraid, afraid, afraid. I wanted to scream but I couldn't find a way to do so.

"Don't act so hurt, I did it for you, baby. I did it because I love you and they were hurting you, just like everyone else in this damn school," he hissed.

"JD this isn't right-" I argued urgently.

"Don't you SEE, (y/n)? Kurt and Ram were only hurting you. You hated Ram." He insisted with a new fire in his eyes. One I didn't like.

"Jason, there's a difference between disliking someone and... and wishing them dead! You're... you're a monster," I yelled, but it faded out into a quiet mutter. My eyes were wider than the sun and I felt my whole wold come crashing down on me. I was afraid of my former friend, the kid who had a crush on me. The kid who committed murder.

"You can't call me a monster if I did it for you," He sneered, taking a step closer so that he could touch me if he wanted. My stomach dropped, as if filled with lead.

"I hate you, JD," I said, trying to stay strong.

"Don't say that, baby. I know Heather's putting you up to that. Don't worry, we can kill her too! And then Veronica and Heather McNamara, since they're only getting in the way. Then we'll be alone together and we can run away! (y/n), I know deep down you love me!" He nearly screamed.

"You'd think you'd be smart enough to not yell your murder plans in public," I sassed, backing up. Then I saw his hand slowly reach into his pocket and pull out something out, something dark silver and metal.

I then realized, that it was a gun he was holding. He aimed it straight at me, making all my blood run cold. No, no NO!

I gulped, backing up and tripping over a log that was behind me. He stepped forward again threateningly.

"(y/n), you know I love you, and I really don't wanna have to do this," He whispered, wearing a sickening smile that looked anything but natural.

"Y-you... you don't have to.. to do anything! Pl-please, please Jason oh my God," I squeaked, tears forming in my eyes. I never got to say goodbye to my friends, my parents, my girlfriend.

"I really have to, actually. I can't have you around sassing me like that, telling me you hate me. That was the last straw, you'd better act fast if you wanna keep breathing," He told me. I shakily got up, ignoring every instinct screaming at me, and reluctantly wrapped my arms around him.

He immediately hugged back, forgetting about the gun pressed against my back.

I then did another thing I knew I'd hate, and leaned in to connect our lips.

His lips were warm and hungry, practically eating my face off. He was not a good kisser.

"I thought you hated me," He whispered as we departed. I wanted to crawl out of my skin.

"I was just scared," I murmured back, looking up at him. I had to continue with the act until he put the gun down.

"Then we can go? Be happy together?" He asked, caressing my cheek in what was meant to be a calming gesture. It actually sent bugs crawling through my skin, ripping me apart..

"Yeah, just set down the gun." I told him.

"But don't we need it to-" He argued.

"Shhh, you can get another gun. But don't you want me to trust you?" I shushed him gently. He nodded reluctantly, removing his arms from my waist and stepping away to set the shiny gun on a short old stump.

"Better?" He asked, stepping back from it to beckon me to his motorcycle.

"Better," I answered with a sweet smile as I stepped closer, picking it up. He quirked a brow at me as if I was joking.

"Sweetheart what are you-?"

And then a gunshot ripped through the quiet air, and I saw him fall. I saw blood on the ground. Everything went white.

What had I done?

I dropped the heavy weapon on the ground, before setting it next to him. I could frame this as a suicide if I was smart.

My hands flew to my mouth as I choked back a sob. I had killed him. I was the reason Jason Dean was dead.

We were behind the school, I knew people would come running. I decided I needed to hide, running would look suspicious.

Sure enough, teachers that were still at school were coming to investigate.

"Do you think it's a suicide?" Ms. Fleming asked, and I was alarmed by the hint of excitement behind her eye. I expected it, sure, but it still scared me beyond belief. That was her.

"The gun's right next to him," One teacher I didn't recognize commented.

"Why would he shoot himself in the chest instead of the head though?" Another asked.

"He always has been extra," One I had freshman year, Mrs. Bradley, commented.

"Extra what?" Someone else asked. I had been wondering that too.

"You'll see later on, slang changes all the time..." Mrs. Bradley said. Well, that sure was cryptic.

"We ought to go call the police, come with me," Ms. Fleming announced, turning around to walk away. The other teachers followed, and most people had left the premises so almost nobody else was there. I stayed in the bushes as I was sneaking away, hands still shaking wildly. The adrenaline was just now kicking in.

I got out of the bushes awkwardly, clearly never having lost my clumsiness. And I thought that I had gotten better about not tripping and falling on my face all the time.

I was relieved turning the corner when I saw the red Porsche still parked there, with a worried pale face looking out the window, her blonde hair a messy crown around her head.

I stumbled to the car and opened the passenger seat's door, still awfully dazed. She immediately pounced on me metaphorically with all her questions.

"What happened? Did you get hurt? Did JD hurt you? I swear if he-"

"He's dead," I whispered quietly, swaying back and forth. I killed JD. He was dead. My eyes were haunted and wide. I was afraid, I was afraid of him, afraid of everyone else, afraid of myself. I shot and killed someone voluntarily. I did that. I killed someone.

She gasped in surprise and lunged over to wrap me in a secure hug that did little to comfort me.

"What happened?" She asked again, quieter this time. This time, she was talking into my hair, all soft and nice.

"He.. he said that I should want them dead. He killed them, killed Kurt and Ram. And- and then I said no, and, and, and..." I stuttered, tears misting my (e/c) eyes.

"And?" She prompted gently.

"He pulled out a gun... and, and he said he didn't wanna have to kill me! He- he said he had to if I refused... s-so... so I hugged him and kissed him bec- because I didn't want him to- to shoot me. And then I... I told him to put it down and he did... and, and, and then I picked it up because he was saying that we could kill you! Kill you, and Veronica, and Mac, and everyone. So- so I shot him.. and I shot him and he's dead now," I explained slowly, trying desperately not to cry. She pulled away from the embrace, gently cupping my face in her hands and wiping away the tears.

"Shh, baby. I know you feel bad about kissing him, and you feel awful about shooting him, but you did the right thing. Otherwise, he'd have killed you, and then me, and then Veronica and Mac. I'm proud of you, okay?" She soothed, petting my hair. I nodded, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"Can we... can we just drive now? Please?" I asked quietly. She nodded, pulling back to start driving. The car was already on and ready to go, so all she had to do was drive.

(1754 words)