No, I can't sleep until I feel your touch

Weeks turned into months, and I couldn't be happier. I spent almost every moment I could with Trish. I was at school, and she was at college, so we mostly could only see each other after school and on weekends. We spent as much time as we could exploring each other's bodies. We even had awkward dinners with each other's parents. This wasn't some casual fling we were genuinely in love with each other.

Everyone was happy for us. There was the expected teasing from Michael and Lyndsay. Carla was really happy for me and remarked that myself and Trish made a really cute couple. Kat was distant and frosty and I did not really blame her. Even Heather relented on occasion when she understood what we meant to each other. Everyone was happy for us except Rebecca.

She hadn't taken our last conversation well, and after she learned I got together with Trish on the same night, I think she saw it as a betrayal. I couldn't blame her, to be honest, especially considering the way I had pined for her over the years and clearly missed the signs when she had returned that affection.

Rebecca had distanced herself from everyone. Her windows were always covered by blinds. She missed days at school. Kat and Carla had made attempts to speak to her. It never went well. She also had started losing weight. The few times I had seen her and tried to speak to her, she had just stood there looking like she was about to burst into tears. One time she had said she was happy for me, but it was said with this air of recrimination.

It was late, and I was in my room with Trish. We were cuddling on the bed listening to The Weeknd. Blinding Lights kind of became our song. My parents were willing to let Trish stay over providing we were being safe. That night we were just content with kissing and holding each other.

With the sound of the music and us being distracted by each other, I failed to hear my bedroom window being slid open. Trish stopped kissing me for some reason. I thought maybe she needed to go pee or she wanted a drink. She hurriedly shook my arm. It was then I realised that we were not alone in the room.

Rebecca was stood there looking down at us with this slightly vacant and crazed stare. But it also took me a moment to realise it was Rebecca. She had dyed her hair blonde. She was wearing an old and worn Led Zeppelin Tee and ripped jeans. It didn't register immediately, but Rebecca had changed her appearance so she was some ersatz version of Trish. From a distance, I suppose it might have been convincing. Up close, the cuts on her arms and emaciated look ruined the illusion. I was too taken aback by her change in looks to notice the other thing at first.

Rebecca was holding her father's gun.

Trish spoke before me. “Rebecca, what is this? Trish asked her voice quavering.

Rebecca was half coherent a lot of words just screamed in anguish. “DO NOT FUCKING TALK TO ME. EVERYTHING WAS OKAY UNTIL YOU TOOK HIM.”

I tried as best I could to reason with her. “ Rebecca, please calm down.”

“I loved you, and I thought you loved me.” She cried.

“I'm sorry, Rebecca. Things happened, and we didn't mean for you to get hurt. I know you care a lot for him.” Trish told her.

“HE WAS MINE. YOU DON'T DESERVE HIM. HE WANTED ME FOR YEARS, AND JUST ONE NIGHT YOU TOOK HIM.” She bawled at Trish.

“Rebecca, you are scaring me,” Trish replied.

“I WATCH THE TWO OF YOU. THIS PERFECT HAPPY COUPLE. YOU KISSING HER, TOUCHING HER WHEN IT SHOULD BE ME.” Rebecca shouted.

“Sometimes things work out that way. Life isn't always fair. You can't pine for someone for years and then cry yourself to sleep every night when they move on. Some people aren't always meant to be together..” Trish said harshly.

“WE WERE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER. THEN YOU GET IN THE WAY, CONNIVING BLONDE BITCH.” Rebecca called out in distress.

I tapped Trish on the leg lightly. I was trying to give her some signal to stop talking. Trish was trying to help calm Rebecca down, but Trish was the betrayer in her eyes. Sadly, Trish's words were just aggravating Rebecca.

“Please let us help you, Rebecca. I know you're upset. The three of us can talk it out.” I suggested.

I wasn't sure if she was listening to reason at this point. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. I had to try at least. I wasn't sure if our friendship could be mended, but at least I could try and get her some help. My phone wasn't near me, and Trish was rooted to the spot in fear.

“I'm not talking with her.” Rebecca sobbed.

“At the very least would you put the gun down? This isn't like you, and you are just scaring both of us. If you put it down. I'll get Trish to leave, and the two of us can just talk. “ I said, hoping she would go for it.

“You don't need her now. I can be Trish. “ She proposed.

“Rebecca. Please be calm. “ I urged.

“I'm Trish now. You love me. Come over here and kiss me,” She said manically.

“Please, Rebecca,” I said calmly.

“I love you. Come over here, and we can be together.” Rebecca cried.

“Bitch, please. You look like some cheap copy.” Trish said in an offhand manner.

It was over in seconds before I could even react. All I felt was warmth and an awful coppery tang in my mouth. It is in these moments when lucidity is forced on people, and for a second I saw that in Rebecca's eyes. She snapped back to rationality for just long enough to realise she had done something she could never take back and she wasn't able to live with the consequences.

That was how my sister found me. Covered in the blood of my girlfriend and one of my best friends. Honestly, I don't even know how long Heather was standing there I stared numbly. I can't even recall what she was saying to me. I just remember her hugging me; I couldn't even recall a time when Heather had even comforted me like this.