Leo's point of view

Yes I know I'm that stupid and forgot this part sorry >.> but here it is

Chapter----10

I tell Leah and Jason that Bryan tried to attack me. I do my best to appear very frightened and horrified at what I've done. They believe me, of course. Everyone knows that Bryan was weird.

The police are called and all the kids plus Leah and Jason take turns telling them how fucked up Bryan was. How there is no reason to doubt my story. They question me and I give them everything they want to hear. By the time they leave, there's no way in hell they can write this off as anything other than self defense.

This is my best performance yet, if I do say so myself.

Leah and Jason don't send me away, to any other home or the detention center. They can't, after the sob story I gave them.

So my story goes like this:

Bryan and I went to buy new clothes. We came home and came to the kitchen to get something to drink. I told Bryan that I disliked the new shirt he bought, he freaked and started screaming at me. I tried to get him to calm down, trying to tell him that it was just a shirt, but only resulted in making him more angry. He ran at me, grabbing a knife from the counter. He then tried to stab me with it, but I hit his arm, which lead to him cutting my cheek. I managed to wrestle the knife away from him and stab him before he could do anything else. I then freaked out and curled into a ball, becoming a sobbing mess. That's exactly how Leah and Jason found me.

I actually had to cut my cheek for this load of bullshit to work. The cut is pretty deep and needs stitches. But that's nothing compared to Bryan's injury.

Now it is time for Bryan's funeral. I sit in the church with the few other people that bothered to show up. The preacher spouts some bullshit about him being a great young man and now he's in a better place. I listen, acting as if being here troubles me. When the preacher finally shuts his mouth, Bryan's casket is taken outside. There are so few people here that I have to help carry it. But that doesn't bother me at all. The casket is situated on the machine that will place him six feet under the ground, to sit and rot for the rest of forever. The thought of that excites me. Now the preacher talks some more, then everyone is given a rose to place on his casket.

After that, people start to leave. The service isn't even over, but I suppose they have better places to be.

Finally it is just me, the preacher and a few other people that have the lovely job of burying Bryan. I stare at the casket holding Bryan and I grin, satisfied. The preacher looks at me strangely and I glare at him until he turns away. Then I walk away, fighting the urge to spit on Bryan's casket.

Bryan fucking deserved this. No one can argue and say that he didn't. That he was innocent. If you try and tell me that, I'll put a knife through you too, because apparently, you're as fucked as he was.

Do I think that there was any good in Bryan? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

Did I love him? No.

Did I feel any sort of attraction for him? No.

Do I feel any remorse for killing him? No.

Would I do it again in a second? Definitely.

I'm very surprised that I managed to hide my disgust with him. Bryan was very perceptive. He knew everything I was thinking, everything I was feeling. I'm happy that I managed to keep up this 'I'm so happy with you' shit. When I wanted nothing more than to kill him from the first time that I saw him. I'm surprised that he believed my bullshit about dead puppies and an injured kid. I'm surprised that he ever believed anything I told him. I told him so many shit-faced lies. I thought this boy was special? I thought he could tell what people were thinking? Guess I hid what I was thinking pretty well.

Now, as I go back home, I wonder if anyone will miss Bryan? I'm guessing no one will. No one in that house cared about him, no one in this whole world gave a shit about him. If I hadn't hated him, I'd almost feel sorry for him.

You may think that I'm a stupid motherfucker for what I did. You may think that I'm a heartless bastard for not caring that I killed another human being. Or--if you are smart--you will think that I an intelligent son of a bitch for pulling off this whole plan. Whatever you think, you're probably right. In some way. But I don't fucking care what your opinion is. I couldn't care less.

What I did was completely right, no matter how fucked up it was. And even if you think that Bryan should have lived, would you be able to resist staring at a beautiful boy taking his last breath and bleeding to death on the floor? I think not.

That was probably my favorite part about this whole thing. The end. Maybe you think that I'm a freak, because death and pain excite me. Well fuck you, you ignorant cunt.

He is gone from this world now. You should be thanking me. He will never have another chance to hurt anyone else.

Now you have to watch out for me.