Bad Association

We should really be careful about the kind of friends we make.

I knew for sure that this was not going to end well. I had this clogging feeling in my throat. I wanted to drop everything and leave, but I couldn't do that. My hands were tied. They had been tied since the day I got involved with that group. My first day in my new neighborhood was uneventful. I actually thought my neighbors would take an interest in me since I was new, but the reverse was the case. It was as if I didn't exist in their eyes.

And that was mostly because they were all focusing all their attention on the Cruz Boys, a gang of the super-rich and influential kids. These guys were seriously loaded, and they were always on the lips of everyone around. Such popularity, such power and wealth, things that I wanted but could never have. I made up my mind to move closer to them and make them my friends.

It took a while, but they began to notice me, and soon I gained their trust. I went everywhere with them, and I started to be seen by people. The rush and excitement were exhilarating. But that was soon cut short. My entire life took a dramatic and shocking turn one day when the truth about this group was revealed to me. They were actually a group of robbers, assassins, and ritualists. That's how they got their immense wealth. The wealth I've been enjoying freely like a fool. I tried to force my way out of their clique, but they didn't have it. In the end, I was forced to join them. I have only spent three months with them, and yet I've seen so much blood being spilled. They could kill a thousand people in just a day. They committed a lot of atrocities that made me sick.

Today, we had planned a huge heist. It was the biggest one yet, and I served as the driver. As they sat in the back of the van cocking their guns and harming themselves with charms and explosives, I sat in the driver's seat, trying hard to get that clogging feeling down my throat. But it only grew and widened until I could no longer speak. Maybe it was because just the day before, I had killed someone. I didn't want to, but they made me do it.

I knew what I had to do. My hands gripped the steering wheel, and my eyes stayed focused on the bridge we were about to go on. I could hear their voices telling me to go faster. I have never felt so happy to follow their order. I pressed down with all my might on the pedal, and the van zoomed on the bridge at incredible speed. I knew what I had to do.

I swerved into the railing at the side of the bridge and let go of the steering wheel. I closed my eyes and said a prayer before I felt the van hit the water beneath the bridge. There was no way I could allow them to kill people anymore, so I decided to end it myself.

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