I Wanted To Pull The Trigger.

I stared down at the ground, not lifting my head once, as I heard the car park outside. I heard them unlock and enter the front door. They closed it and took of their jackets. I heard the footsteps come upstairs, and then the knock on my door. I sat on my bed, and did not look up. I didn't say anything. Maybe they would go away. Maybe they would leave me alone.

The door knob turned and they opened the door. I didn't look up.

"Did you watch the news today?"

I recognized the voice as the one belonging to my older sister.

"Yes," I replied, quietly.

"I'm sorry," She said to me. I just shrugged. I didn't make eye contact with her. She left the room, figuring that I was upset and wanted to be alone. I heard her go back downstairs. The house was silent. I could make out the conversation she started to have with my mother.

"How is she?" My mother asked.

"Upset," My sister replied. "She's really affected by this. She wouldn't even look at me."

"Well, of course," Mother said. "At least, she isn't crying, yet. After all, she does have reason to be upset. John killed them."

"I knew that John had compromised morals, but I never thought he would be a killer," My sister said. "It's a shame."

"It truly is. He made her happy enough," Mother said. The conversation ended. No remorse. They didn't care that John became a killer today. They didn't care about how I might have been feeling. They only cared that I wasn't making a huge emotional scene. They didn't care about the victims of the murder. They were remorseless. Yet, what remorse had I shown? Not much.

The floor was getting less and less interesting, but I couldn't take my eyes of it. My neck was starting to hurt, but I refused to lift my head. I was thoroughly uncomfortable, but I didn't care that much. I had been in this position since I saw the news. It took me a good amount of time to believe that John killed them. I agreed with my sister. John was not exactly the good kid, but he was no murderer. I closed my eyes and remembered our four month anniversary.

He wasn't in school that day. As I was walking home, he caught up with me.

"Eve," He called out to me. I stopped and turned around, surprised. He caught up with me and he was pretty much out of breath. He smiled at me. I loved his smile. I loved his brown hair and his blue eyes, and his scent, and everything enough, but I loved his smile most of all.

"You missed school," I said, simply. He grinned.

"Hold out your hand," He said, sounding eager and excited. I readjusted the bag on my left shoulder and held out my hand. He reached into his pocket and placed a box in it. "Open it."

I opened it slowly and carefully. Inside the box was a silver necklace with a diamond pendant. I was obviously surprised, and he could tell by my expression. He grinned some more.

"Happy four month," He said, and kissed me on the cheek. I stared down at the necklace.

"Where'd you get this from?" I asked, still in shock.

"Uh, stole it," He said, casually.

"From the store?"

"Uh-huh," John said. "So, are you going to put it on?"

He was very hyper and very energetic. Sometimes it seemed like he was on speed. Who knows, he might have been. John didn't wait for my answer. He grabbed the necklace, unclasped it, put it around my neck, and closed it. He smiled.

"Ah, yes, perfect," He said. "You look wonderful. As usual."

He took my hand, and started to drag me along. I was always much slower to react to things than he was. He was always five steps ahead of me.

There was another knock on my door. I opened my eyes, but didn't say anything. I heard the door open and out of the corner of my eye, I saw my father walk into the room. He sat down next to me on the bed.

"Look, Eve," He said, quietly. "I'm sorry about John. I'm sorry about your friends. I don't understand why he did it. I'm still kind of in shock."

I almost smiled. My father never failed me. He was the only one that truly cared. Of course, smiling would have been very inappropriate.

"Do you know why he did it?" My father asked me. I thought for a second. It was so easy to lie when you weren't looking at the person. I shook my head and spoke my first word in a long time.

"No," I replied quietly.

"I know it must be hard for you, but it will be okay," My father said. He put his hand on my shoulder. "You'll be okay. So try not to worry too much, alright?"

"Yeah," I said. He gave me a pat, and stood up.

"If you need to talk, I'll be here for you," He said. He left the room and closed the door. For the first time since the news, I lifted my head. I heard my mother come upstairs and greet my father.

"Hey, how is she doing?" My mother asked. My dad didn't say anything aloud, but I figured he made some kind of motion.

"Imagine that," My mother said. "Eve's two best friends. Dead. Nessa and Lena. How could John do that?"

"I don't know. John was mostly a good kid," My father said. "He loved her a lot. I guess he was jealous of all the attention they got. I guess he was too obsessed with Eve."

"It's a shame. She really loved him, too," Mother said. "She really loved him. Now she lost all three of them."

They didn't know the half of it. In fact, they didn't know anything.

The next day, I went to school. My family didn't want me to. No one expected me to go, but I did anyway. I was quiet, and that was all. As I walked down the hall, everyone who knew me said that they were sorry. I didn't say thanks. I didn't say anything. Every teacher who encountered me asked me if I was alright. I almost wanted to laugh. It was such a stupid question. Wasn't it obvious? Did I look all right? Did I act all right? Did they really have to waste my time and ask? I always just shrugged as a reply. It was good enough for them.

The morning announcements made mention of them.

"Yesterday afternoon, at 3:30 p.m., one of our students shot and killed two girls from this school. Vanessa Taylor and Lena St. Clair. The suspect was apprehended and now is in prison. Please, stand up, and take a moment of silence to mourn the death of these two young ladies."

Everyone stood up in homeroom to mourn, except for me. I guess it surprised some people, but they figured it was just "my problems" and what I was going through. They were surprised to know I still hadn't shed a tear. Everyone expected me to be at home crying. Those who saw me expected me to be in tears. I wasn't in tears or anything close to that. I went on with my school day as usual. I passed in my homework. I did all my class work. I went on as if nothing was wrong. I didn't utter a word that day, though, and no one made me.

When the final bell rung, I was semi-relieved. I didn't mind school, but the repetitive 'Are you all right?' was getting tedious. I gathered my stuff and started on my usual walk home. On the way, I was stopped by one of my classmates. His name was Tyler. He was a nice kid, and we were kind of friends. We talked, but not regularly. He lived close by and sometimes he would walk home and I would see him.

"Eve," He called out to me. I stopped and turned around. He walked towards me. "Hi, Eve."

"Hello," I said, quietly.

"I'm sure you've heard this a million times by now, but I'm sorry about everything," Tyler said. I shrugged. We started to walk once again. "You seem to be alright. It's kind of surprising considering your boyfriend killed your two best friends."

I looked over at Tyler for a second. He was pretty straightforward. It was kind of admiring.

"Do you know why he shot them?" Tyler asked. I remembered at that moment that Tyler was an aspiring journalist, and his father was head of this case. He probably wanted to get as much information out of me as possible.

"Not a clue," I said, casually. Tyler gave me a look.

"I think you're lying, Eve," He said. I smirked, and shrugged.

"Alright, you can think that if you want."

"John was your boyfriend. Tell me, did he hate Nessa and Lena?"

"Nope," I replied, simply. It was true that time. John had no ill feelings toward Vanessa and Lena. They seemed to get along fine.

"Well, then why would he shoot them?"

"Beats me," I said, and once again, shrugged.

"You obviously know more than you're telling," Tyler said. He was getting slightly annoyed by my fake obliviousness.

"John's in jail. They know he's guilty. It's obvious that he's guilty. What else does your father need?" I asked.

"A motive," Tyler replied, honestly. "John's never hated them. John's never acted ill towards them. He seemed to like them, actually. It's puzzling. He won't give any reason. He plays the same shrugging game that you do. And you. You show no remorse. No tears. No nothing. You know something, and I'm going to find out what it is."

"Tyler," I said. "John killed my friends. John killed my two best friends. I've known them since forever. Do you know what it's like to have your boyfriend kill your two best friends? No, you don't. Don't tell me that 'I know something.' I don't. If I did, I would have already said it."

And with that, I walked away.

I looked forward to the day I could go visit John. I marked it on my calendar and crossed out the days until it was time to see him. My family thought I was crazy. They thought that I would never want to see him again. I told them I wanted to ask him why he did it. They bought that. They understood that. They just didn't want anything bad to happen from seeing him. Well, at least my father didn't want anything bad to happen.

I still wore the necklace he gave me. It was another surprising action. They thought maybe I was sympathizing with him. They thought maybe I still loved him. But with a few vulgar words about him, I quickly chased that thought away from their minds. Lying was becoming easier and easier to do. I guess this situation taught me a thing or two about getting away with lies.

Tyler stopped asking me questions, but he was still on his quest for the truth. Slowly, but surely, everyone stopped asking me if 'I was all right' or apologizing for my loss. Everyone soon resumed their normal lives. I guess two dead girls and one murderer didn't have much impact after long.

The day finally came. I went to school that day, hoping it would end quickly. That was the day Tyler, once again, confronted me. He trapped me at my locker and there was no where I could go.

"So, are you visiting him today?" Tyler asked me, appearing from nowhere.

"That's right," I said. "I'm going to ask him why he did it."

"What a useless question since you already know," Tyler said, so surely. "So, you didn't end up going to the funeral, why not?"

"It hurt too much," I said, rather unconvincingly. Tyler didn't buy it, but then again, Tyler didn't buy anything I said. He knew me for the liar I was. It made me respect him and loathe him at the same time. I didn't care though. No one would believe Tyler. They would call him cold because he wasn't one of the sympathizers. He realized this. He realized I had the high ground, but even so, he continued his games with me.

"So, when you decide you want to tell me, I'll be waiting," Tyler said. He walked away. I smiled to myself a little. I guess I was a game-player all the same as he was. The day went by, kind of slowly, but it could have gone way slower. When school ended, I called a taxi and took it to the jailhouse. I hoped that I would be able to get him alone. I hoped that his parents wouldn't be there at the same time that I would be. I didn't even know if his parents were going to visit him. I remember seeing them being attacked by all the news crews, but they refused to say anything. His father looked thoroughly pissed, and his mother had this kind of a sad look on her face. That was pretty much the last time I saw them. I also saw Nessa's parents and Lena's father on television. Lena's father was also very pissed. And Nessa's parents were very grieving. I didn't see or get in contact with any of them. They didn't get in contact with me, either. I suppose they were too busy.

The taxi stopped. The man told me the fare and I quickly paid him. He gave me a weird look when I told him the destination and proceeded to give me that same weird look as I actually got out. He drove off and I went to the building. Security was hell. Getting through all five million checks was stupid. They were surprised to see who I was going to visit. They took me to one of those booth things with the phone and the glass. Minutes later, they brought John out, handcuffed and all. They de-handcuffed him allowed him to sit down. He looked at me and grinned. I picked up my end of the phone and he picked up his.

"Hey," He said to me. I stared. He seemed a little happy for a prisoner.

"Hello, John," I said to him. He had his normal energy. It was weird.

"How are you?" He asked.

"Eh, alright," I said with a shrug. I stared at him, unable to believe how peppy he was.

"What? What is it?" He asked. I chuckled a bit.

"It's nothing," I said and then paused. He waited for me to figure out my real answer. "You're weird. You're just so weird sometimes. Killing them without even knowing why I hated them."

"Yeah, that's true. You never told me why you hated them," He said, but then shrugged. "I always believed, act first, think later. So, why do you hate them?"

I laughed. "Long story short: Lena had sex with my boyfriend, Sam. I was upset but I eventually 'got over it'. She would get hers. Nessa, well, Nessa was a pretentious bitch," I explained. John laughed.

"Really?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding.

"Well, good riddance then, huh? They got what was coming to them," John said with a grin.

"Well, yes, they did," I said. "But I'm a little upset about something."

"What would that be, dear?" John asked, looking concerned. I paused for a moment.

"I wanted to do it," I replied, honestly. "I wanted to pull the trigger."

"I know you did, honey," He said, softly.

"Did they bleed a lot?"

"Yeah, a whole lot," He said. I smiled to myself.

"Good."

So, what I didn't get to pull the trigger? Don't hold it against him, Eve. Don't hold it against him. He was just trying to make you happy. I looked at him and that smile. I loved that smile. It was the only thing that prevented me from wanting to pull the trigger again.