September 1st 2014 (Same Day)

                                    

                                          
I walked along the aisles, peering into each to find him. I land on the war novels and find him sitting there a book in his hand. I walk right up to him and snatch it, making him jump. I throw it behind me and grab his collar, pulling him up into standing position.
                          
"Emmy!" he yelled.
                          
"How could you not talk to me?" I yelled, my voice weakening. Oh no. Don't cry now. I'm mad, not sad. I was already to cry and I was on my first sentence.
                          
"Huh?" he sounded clueless, like he actually didn't know what I was talking about.
                          
"I killed a man and you couldn't even ask if I was okay." I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I refused for them to fall over.
                          
"Em."
                          
"Don't call me that." I felt moisture hit my cheek. "You asked me to talk to him. You wanted him gone and I -" I couldn't say it again. I didn't want to. "The least you could say was thank you or be grateful." I turned around to walk away just as another tear hit my cheek. I let it roll down my face, it felt good to cry. I felt someone's hand clasp onto my shoulder and turned me around. Joe stood there, mouth open, not saying anything. He looked hurt; like I had punched him again. "What?"
                          
"Don't cry." he said looking away. I hated him seeing me being weak.
                          
"I'm not crying." I wiped the tear off my cheek. We were standing in his aisle still, but right at the edge. He had his arms crossed and I stood there limp, trying my best not to cry.
                          
"I was scared." He said. I sniffed, looking down at my shoes. "I didn't want to accept the fact that I'm - I'm the reason you killed James." I flinched when he said his name. "I didn't want to believe that I made you into this, this resenting, cold person who can hardly hold a gun anymore." I looked up at him, another tear falling. I bit my lip, trying to hold back a sob. "The way you looked at me when he - hit the ground. You were horrified and you blamed me." His voice cracked and he looked away; was he getting upset as well?
                          
"I'm - I'm not blaming you." I whispered.
                          
"You should." He muttered looking back at me. "I begged you to get rid of him."
                          
"I needed you Joe." I changed the subject. I did blame him; but he didn't need to know. I am the reason James is dead, but then he's the reason I shot him. He made me think he was dangerous, when maybe he wasn't. I never got the chance to find out. "I needed support. And yeah I got it from Luis and Winter, but the way you opened up to me a week ago, I thought we were going to help each other through it. You didn't even introduce me to Estella." I looked away as more tears leaked over. My eyes were probably red now and I knew my chin was quivering because I wanted to cry, but I wouldn't let myself.
                          
"I could barely look at you." He looked at his shoes. "You think I could say your name?" I looked back to him and his eyes were glassy. We stood silently, me looking at him and him looking away. I sighed, crossing my eyes across my chest. This was killing me, not talking. I just wanted to scream and run away, but I know I couldn't do that, I am an adult; I need to be mature and handle this situation properly. I watched him; it looked like he was reading the titles of the books, just to avoid looking at me. He looked at me, his eyes darting all over my face. He raised his hand and wiped under eyes, getting rid of the tears. His hand was warm and rough, but comforting.
                          
"Please don't tell me I'm as forgettable as your silence was making me feel." I whispered closing my eyes.
                          
"I could never forget you." He said. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. "Stay here with me?" he asked. I dropped my head and shook it. I'm mad at him.
                          
"I can't." I whispered. 

                          
"Please." He mumbled.
                          
"I'm mad at you." I looked up to see his big blue eyes gazing upon me. "I need to come to peace with what I've done. I need time alone to sort myself out, before I kill you all." I said, taking a step back. He nodded, looking away. I turned and began walking, trying to get far away. I don't know what just happened there. I went looking for him to scold him, blame him for my sorrows and heartbreak, but now I've left, not wanting to leave him. I want to stay there with him, forget about what I did. Maybe laugh. But I couldn't allow myself to do that. I have to heal. And I think him talking to me will make it a whole lot easier. I'll be alright; just not tonight.