(Not About Angels-Birdy)

~~~

I pick up the crowbar from the ground and smash the glass, every single one of them that's implanted into the shelf. I destroy all the pictures of us together.

He has on us display like we are the perfect fucking family, but were not these pictures are almost ten years old. All the images he has on display of me show the sweet little girl he thinks I am, the charming little girl I used to be. I'm not that girl anymore. I take each picture and slam them onto the ground. Watching them shatter just like my life has.

Travis walks into the office. He still has the crowbar in his hand, "Wow, you really hate your dad that much, huh?" he says as he looks around the destroyed office.

I disregard his question and walk from around the desk and over to him. "Did you trash everything?"

"Yeah," he says, "Every office and every car, except for the ones we're taking!"

"Good!" I take the crowbar from out of his hand and smash the glass trophy case to the right of me. The glass implodes everywhere.

Travis uses his arm to cover his eyes. "What are you doing?"

I disregard his question and take the gasoline that was secured in the case. I pop off the red top and then start pouring it on the floor.

Cory walks into the office, "What the hell is she doing?" he asks Travis.

"Burning the place down!" he replies. Out the corner of my eye, I see a smirk appear at the corner of his mouth.

I walk over behind the desk, pour the brown liquid onto the pictures on the floor, and then onto the brown chestnut desk. I cover every spot in the office and slowly move into the main lobby.

I pour the gasoline everywhere in the lobby. They really did trash the place. Papers are everywhere. The 1995 McLaren F1 that my dad cherished more than me is dented; the glass is in pieces on the floor. I also pour gasoline on the car, knowing that the fire will cause the vehicle to explode. It'll destroy everything.

"Damn, Jay!" Kayla walks up behind me. "I didn't think you had the balls to do some shit like this!" She looks at the drenched floor.

"Shut up!" I growl.

Luke burst through the front doors with Jasmine behind him. He's out of breath. "We gotta go!"

I drop the empty gasoline jug onto the ground and then walk back into my dad's office, "Did you do it?" I ask Travis.

"It's deleted," he says and closes the computer; he then takes the computer and slams it on the ground making sure that it's destroyed, unable to be revived. It doesn't matter. It'll surely burn in the fire.

We both walk out of the office and then out of the dealership. Back outside, everyone is hopping into the fancy cars and driving off. I take the lighter out of my back pocket; I flick the light, and the fire appears. I stare at, allowing the orange and red flame to glare in my eyes.

Drop it

Drop it

I keep telling myself to drop it, but I can't. My hands hold onto the silver lighter.

"Can't do it, can you?!" Travis says from behind me. "You better hurry up! You hear that?"

I listen closely, and then I faintly hear sirens; we have been here too long, we couldn't guess the security code, so the police station has been alerted.

"We gotta go!" Kayla yells.

"Do it! Jayda," Travis says, edging me on.

"Just go!" I tell him. I can't do it with him here.

"Don't get caught," he smiles and then walks over into the white Benz, the tires screech as they pull off and drive out of the lot.

I clear my mind. I channel all the rage and anger I feel toward my parents, towards my father. There's no going back; once I do this, that's it.

No, do-overs.

Once that rage arises again, my hand releases, the lighter hits the ground. The fire attaches itself onto the gasoline; it trails into the dealership. After a few minutes, the dealership is up in flames.

I watch as everything my father worked so hard to build burns to the ground. The sirens sound louder, which means they're close; a part of me wants just to stand here and allow them to arrest me, allow them to take me away, lock me up. I deserve to be punished for what I've done. For everything, I have done.

But I won't because I know the worst punishment, the only way to avenge myself and punish myself for what I just did is to end it.. end myself. Kill myself.

My parents will never look at me the same when they found out what I did, that this was me even if I don't get pinned for burning this place down. How can I live knowing what I've done? I can't.

Either way, I will die.

The memories will kill me before the blades do

I lift up from the gurney with my eyes wide open. "She's back," the paramedic lady says. "Stay still, stay still."

She holds my shoulders back, I try to move again, and a sharp pain shoots through my arm. I wince. "Your arm is broken. You have to stop moving," the lady says.

"Jayda," I turn my head to the right; Jessica is sitting on the tiny bench.

"Where-- where is he, is he--"

Before she can respond, the lady answers, "Your friend is in the ambulance in front of us,"

My eyes sting and flood with tears as I replay the slowest yet fastest moment of my life. I can't--- he can't be--

The ambulance hits a bump, my body jerks, my whole left side shoots with pain, I use my left hand and grab my side, I feel the wetness, I look down, the blood is coming through my shirt.

The ambulance starts to slow down, and the two doors in front fly open; the paramedic lady says, "Africain American female, 17, broken right arm, grazed bullet wound to the side," they pull the gurney out of the ambulance and lower me to the ground.

I disregard the pain and look around, trying to find him, but I don't see anything.

"Who is this?" the man on my side asks, looking at Jessica.

"She's a witness; cops are on their way to question her," the lady looks at Jessica. "Come with me," she says to her; Jessica looks at me with concern in her eyes,

"We will take care of her," the man assures her.

Jessica nods her head and then walks away with the Indian lady.

I try lifting up again, trying to find him, "You have to stay down," the man says and starts to roll the gurney forward.

I disregard his instruction and continue looking around, trying to find him, but there is still no sign of him. Is he dead? A shooting pain comes to my heart at the thought; he can't be dead. I can't-- I can't.

The gurney stops in front of the desk; he starts to tell the nurse what I need. I continue looking around, trying to find him. I notice the doctors all running in one direction. I use my eyes to follow where they are going, I lift trying to get a better view, and then I spot him; through all the fucking doctors around him, I catch a mere glimpse of him.

Out of nowhere, I get this blast of strength. I quickly hop from out the gurney; the man cannot get a hold of me fast enough; my whole body aches, but I don't care. I grip my side and press forward; across the hall, I walk into the room where he is at.

Doctors surround him. They are all hooking him up to something. I push past them. They probably think I am a nurse or something because no one stops me. That is until they spot the blood dripping from my side and onto the floor.

A nurse rests her hand on me, but I don't budge. I just watch the unconscious body that's spread out on the gurney. "You have to help him!"

"You have to leave!" The head doctor says; the nurses continue strapping things to his body. "Push another round of epi," he says to the nurse.

"What are you-?"

The doctor walks away from him and over to me. He places a hand on my shoulder. "We are doing everything we can," he says.

"It doesn't fucking look like it," I shout. Does he not see the lifeless body I see right now?

He waves someone over, a nurse. She walks in the room and over to me; she rests her hand on me, trying to get me to come with her, but I won't. I won't leave him.

"Sir, his BP is dropping," one of the nurses say; the monitor starts to go off, signaling that something is wrong,

The doctor walks away and back over to him and says, "We're losing him! I need the defibrillator!"

"Doctor, he's already lost too much blood," A nurse in blue scrubs says.

He shoots her a glare, "Push another round of epi and bring me the defibrillators,"

One of the nurses hands him two black paddles,

"You don't want to be in here for this!" the nurse behind me says, tugging at my good arm, trying to get me to leave.

"I won't leave him!" I shoot her a warning glare.

"Clear," the doctor says, and everyone backs up,

Still nothing, the monitor says the same, "Charge to 250," he instructs, the nurse does as told, "Clear," everyone backs away, the monitor remains the same,

No, no, no. This can't be happening right now; my body becomes weak.

The doctor looks at me for a second and then back at him, "Charge to 300,"

The nurse hesitates but then does as instructed. "Clear," he shocks his body again, and like before, it lifts off the gurney then drops back down,

"No!" I let out a sob before I drop to my knees; the nurse grabs me.

The doctor looks up at me. Then he looks at the nurse and says, "Get her out here!" He looks back down at the body, "I'm starting compressions!" he says, trying to revive the boy that is long gone.

I continue crying; two nurses come and pull me out of the room,

"No, no!"

"You don't want to be in there!" the nurse says, holding both of my arms tightly; she must not have been informed that one was broken.

"His name? There was no ID on him. Who is he? We need to inform the parents," the male nurse presses me for answers,

I hear him, but I can't take my eyes off of the body; I watch as the doctor presses on his chest, still trying to resuscitate him. The nurses and other doctors around him are just watching. They all look like they have given up. They all have, except for the doctor; he stops the compressions and balls his fist tightly. He then pounds on his chest, still trying to get a heartbeat.

"His name, miss," the nurse says again.

I can't watch anymore; I turn away from the wretched scene caused by me. I look at the nurse and answer her question.

I push past the lump in my thought and say, "Ryder, Ryder Adams,"

~~~

(Because I'm thankful for you all! And because you guys got me to 1k followers❤️... ps don't hate me! Let me go log out rq)