Derek had once loved that man’s eyes; those deep, clear, azure pools that drilled into you more and more as you stared at them, and as they stared at you. But he found he liked them better then, with less shine in them as the stared at him lifelessly from the kitchen floor. Derek had also once loved the fascinatingly pale skin of that man. He had been enthralled at the sight of it stretched over what were probably perfect muscles, and perfect bones. Yet he found that he liked that skin better as ghostly pale and gray-tinted as it was then, and as covered in crimson rivers as it was at that moment. Yes, while Derek had once loved that man as he lived, he found that he enjoyed him much more when he lay dead at his feet.
“I got you what you asked for,” A voice said from the kitchen doorway. “Do you like it, Derek?” Derek remained silent for a moment, staring at the body on the floor. The murder had been brutal, obviously, but the look of death suited Arthur, and Derek found himself smiling as he turned around.
“You didn’t have to be so violent,” he said softly. “But I really do like it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now pay up.” Derek pulled his wallet from his pocket, thinking about the scene he was playing a part in. A couple of days ago, a scene like this could only cross his mind if he were reading it, or watching it on TV. Who’d have thought he would ever pay someone to kill his best friend? The two were closer then two peas in a pod. Why would he ever do something like that?
Because Arthur had struck first, that’s why. At first, it wasn’t that big of a deal, with Arthur bringing over a few drinks from his parents’ liquor cabinet to try. Lots of teenagers did, right? But Arthur had gone a bit too far, drinking too much as the days went by.
“Here,” Derek said. “I hope you were careful, because I’m going to have to call the cops.” He handed the money to the other man, who shrugged.
“I’ve never gotten caught before.” Without another word, he left Derek alone in his kitchen. Derek turned around to stare at Arthur again, and then forced himself to fall over and emit a loud scream.
“Help! Somebody call 9-1-1!” Almost the very same words had passed through Derek’s lips a few days ago, as Arthur had been completely intoxicated and had barged into his apartment. He had been violent, and he had left Derek bruised and in pain. He didn’t tell anyone though, and allowed himself to sit in pain those few days. He was still in pain as he sat on the floor, pretending to tremble and shedding fake tears for the man who had hurt him so badly.
The instant the yell had left his lips, the door to his apartment had flown open, and Derek’s intrusive neighbor had raced inside. Once she saw the two boys on the floor, she let out a scream louder then Derek’s had been.
“Derek! Oh my god!” Derek scrambled to his feet and threw himself at her, ‘sobbing’ into her chest.
“I…I just got home from school, a-and when I came in here…I…he…”
“Derek, sweetie, calm down. I’ll call the cops. Just come sit with me until your parents get here, alright?” He nodded, following his neighbor into her apartment and sitting with her on her hideous floral couch.
“Derek, dear…” He looked up at his neighbor, the tears he didn’t mean slowing to a halt. “How did that boy get into his apartment?”
“I…I dunno…I mean Arthur is…was…my best friend.” His neighbor nodded, looking away from Derek. “He might’ve taken a key from me, or my parents might’ve given him one…”
“Why would your parents give him a key?”
“He’s over a lot, and we find him waiting outside the apartment all the time. And we…trust him…” The words almost refused to leave Derek’s lips. After all that had happened a few days ago, he couldn’t honestly say he trusted Arthur, especially after talking to him about it that next day at school. Derek had thought that his actions were due to the alcohol, and only the alcohol, but…he had been wrong. And what Arthur had told him that day was what prompted Derek to get rid of him.
“To be honest,” Arthur had said. “I…I don’t regret it as much as I should. In fact, I don’t regret it much at all.” Then he had smiled and left, leaving Derek alone in the library, horrified.
“Derek, honey…” Derek looked up at his neighbor and found that his vision was blurred for real.
“I…I’m sorry,” he mumbled, wiping at his eyes. The tears continued to fall, however, and suddenly, he felt so pathetic… “I just…” his neighbor pulled him into her arms, and he couldn’t stop himself from sobbing.
Over the next few days, Derek’s mind was racing every which way, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about Arthur’s death. At some moments, he was so happy that he couldn’t keep a grin off his face, but at other moments, he was hysterical and ready to turn himself in. On the day of the funeral, when he wasn’t feeling anything at all, he was pulled out of school to attend, and he wasn’t the only one. He recognized so many people from school there, blubbering over the death of such a great boy. The casket was open, and Derek stood beside it for a long time, staring. No one said anything to him, and no one suspected anything of him.
“Oh…Arthur…,” Derek mumbled, brushing a hand gently through Arthur’s hair and shuddering as his fingers accidently touched the cold skin of his forehead. He had once heard, at the funeral of a family member, that the recently dead individual appeared to be sleeping, and almost looked peaceful. He hadn’t been allowed to look then, but he realized as he stared at Arthur that that had been a lie. Laying there in the clothes he never would’ve worn with his hair cleaner then it had ever been while he was alive; Arthur didn’t appear to be sleeping. He simply appeared to be…dead. He was cold and blank and gray and still, but not sleeping. Not peaceful. He was dead.
“Arthur,” Derek repeated, keeping his voice soft and barely moving his lips. He didn’t want to be noticed. “I really hope you forgive me. But you know you had it coming to you.” He stopped, hearing someone start to cry not too far behind him. Casting a glance over his shoulder, he saw Arthur’s mother sobbing in her husband’s arms. Derek’s own eyes filled with tears as he turned back to Arthur and leaned over him.
“I’m feeling worse about what I’m doing to your family and friends and to myself then about what I’ve done to you,” he whispered. “They’re going through so much, and I’m loosing my mind wondering if I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I hope that, even after what you did, that you make it into heaven. I won’t see you there if you do, though, But please forgive me. You’ve always been, and always will be, my best friend. But…” He straightened himself up and finished his sentence as he turned away from his friend and began to walk away, still crying slightly.
“I don’t regret it as much as I should. In fact, I don’t regret it much at all.”
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