14 : I Wont Live Without Her

                                    

                                          
Your POV
Warning : A Box Of Tissues Is Recommended
                          
Ten days passed and I shared little to no contact with anyone. 
The hotel I was staying in was owned by a wealthy man who just happened to be friends with Jason, and he had agreed to let me stay here for as long as I needed to.
However, alone, I was miserable. 
                          
The hotel room was nicer than nice. 
The carpet was white and fluffy, the view from
the balcony was incredible and the bed was actually really comfortable - despite the fact that I had hardly slept.
As I had expected, Jason was lingering at the end of my every thought, and without any other distractions, the memories of him were the only things that filled my mind and it felt like it was killing me. It didn't feel real that we were over, especially not after everything we went through and how much we risked for each other. 
                          
It was a Saturday night and my only plans were to sit in and pick at a delivery pizza. The TV flickered in front of me and hummed whilst I peeled the slices of pepperoni from the base and tried my best to convince myself that I had an appetite. The TV was probably the only disappointing thing about the whole room; for the channels were mostly in spanish and I found myself constantly watching the news in any hope to hear Jason's name. 
I knew that craving the bare thought of him was unhealthy and definitely no good for the process of getting over him, but I literally couldn't help it. 
However, tonight, when the news caught my attention, every single part of me wished it never did. 
                          
A blonde news lady was stood a fair distance away from burning car, which was surrounded by frantic fire fighters desperate to put out the roaring neon flames. 
She wore a skin-tight black dress and her hair was curled and bouncy, but the words that came out of her were enough to make me feel like I was suffocating on oxygen. "Breaking News, reporting to you live from the Lockhart Town Square, Jason McCann has been found dead inside a burning Lamborghini Aventador at 8:57pm. Firefighters were able to recover the body before it was destroyed and CIA agents have identified a single bullet wound to the head. A springfield handgun has also been recovered from the vehicle and was said to be resting against the criminal's hand after his death. Judging by the position of the wound, agents believe that McCann set his own car on fire, before shooting himself in the head and taking his own life. Tonight is finally the night that American citizens can live without the fear of this sinister man, who was believed to be responsible for around one thousand deaths. Jason McCann is finally off our streets and tonight is a memorable night for everyone. The following images may be distressing." 
                          
By the time she finished her sentence, images of Jason's dead body filled the screen of my TV before I even had the chance to find the remote and turn it off. I was already in shock; tears pouring out of my eyes and hands shaking as if I was having some sort of panic attack. 
It wasn't true. 
It couldn't be true. 
                          
I blinked through the thick shield of water in my eyes, and the screen focussed into something so disturbing that it should've been illegal to show. 
It was Jason... 
And he was dead. 
                          
His skin was slightly burnt, but not to the extreme level of him being unrecognisable.
His golden hair was wet and clinging to his forehead, which was also covered in glistening blood. His eyes that used to speak his emotions were now open, glassy and as empty as dolls, and his lips were parted slightly, defining a permanent look of nothingness on his face.
                          
My jaw hung open but my throat closed up and prevented any oxygen from entering my body. 
I slid from the white couch and dropped to my knees, grabbing fistfuls of my hair and trying to scream. "NO!" I screeched hysterically, gasping and spluttering violently. "NO, NO, PLEASE NO!" 
                          
The images on the screen changed from one heartbreaking photo to another. 
                          
"STOP, PLEASE!" I howled, shaking my head and feeling literal rivers of tears pour from my traumatised eyes. "IT HURTS. COME BACK, PLEASE COME BACK." 
                          
... And at that moment, the rest of my sanity finally washed away. 
                          
"IM SORRY, JASON. I LOVE YOU." I cried at the flickering television. "PLEASE JUST COME BACK, YOU CANT BE DEAD. YOU'RE NOT DEAD." 
                          
And then something awful settled inside me. 
                          
Jason McCann; 
He was a ruthless killer. 
A dreaded man. 
Wanted dead by everyone. 
                          
But after everything Jason had faced... 
After every gunshot he had suffered, every beating he had taken, every war he had won, every heartbreak he had faced, and every person he had lost... 
                          
It was all me. 
                          
I killed Jason McCann. 
                          
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Thanks for reading 
                          
i'm so sorry 
                          
please don't stop reading because Jason died xx