Song: Forever Halloween by The Maine

Hi, I'm ImSorryMrGullible and I write stories because I want to live a life like all of the cheesy romance movies/books, but I know that will never happen, so I make my fantasies into a story, just dreaming it was me who were in that position(which is mainly the reason I write X Readers XD).

Dis a long chapter 0•0

Y/n's POV

"Today is the day everyone has been looking forward to all month: Halloween! Kids are dressing up and collecting as much candy as they possibly can-"

"Look at them. Aren't they cute." The second news anchor cooed, watching the kids walk down the street, bags in hand, through the live video recording.

Mark went to change the channel, a scoff sounding from his mouth. Before he could, I spoke barely above a normal volume. "No, don't change it!" I shouted quickly from the kitchen behind him. You could hear the eye roll from Mark.

"You actually enjoy this?" Mark asked.

Walking until I was standing behind the couch and to Mark's left, I leaned my elbows on the back of the couch, staring at the TV. "Not the news, no. Just enjoy seeing all the costumes. They're adorable, really!"

Mark scoffed. "Yeah, the boy covered in fake blood with a toy gun is so adorable."

"You're right, you are adorable." I teased, ruffling his hair.

Slapping my hand away from him, he shouted to me as I walked back into the kitchen. "Fuck off!"

He stood up and wandered into the kitchen with me, raising an eyebrow at me as I stared dreamily at the TV as they interviewed kids about their costumes. He switched his gaze between the TV and me before speaking. "You got a kink for kids in costumes or something?" Mark joked.

I rolled my eyes, taking my eyes off the TV to finally look at him. "Halloween used to be my favorite day of the year." I state, looking down at my hands. "It was the day I could be literally anything I could imagine. Though, I was never anything scary like everyone else. I always had to be this cute, adorable thing every year."

"Well that's no fun." Mark said, opening the large fridge. "How can you scare any children with that?"

I laughed as he closed the fridge door and stood by my side again, a bottle of water in hand. "I used to love dressing up. It'd always pretend to be my favorite actress or singer at the time, a model, or even a princess." I giggled at the memories, staring back at the TV. "I truly thought I'd be one of those four things when I grew up." My smile disappeared, turning into a regretful frown. "Never would've thought I'd be a criminal. My childhood self would be horrified if they saw me now."

All of it was true. As a kid, I'd dress up all the time. I loved the fact I could pretend to be anything I wanted. Halloween was the only day I could go out while in these costumes and be surrounded by people doing the same. Any other time of the year it'd be me in my room playing by myself. On Halloween, I had other people around me I could relate to, I had people my age and people like me everywhere I looked. The candy was just a plus.

"We you definitely could've been a model." Mark smirked.

My gaze turned upward at his comment, meeting his eyes with a playful smirk. "And you could've been an engineer."

"Hey!" His eyes widen at my comment. "How'd you know that?"

A laugh escaped me as the look of confused and anger appeared on his face. "A little birdie told me some minor things about you."

"It was your little boy toy, wasn't it?" Mark asked through gritted teeth. "That little bastard."

Rolling my eyes, I met his chocolate brown eyes with an annoyed look. "Seriously, what is so bad about me personally knowing the guy behind this whole tough guy act?"

"You do personally know me, I told you about Vic!"

"Thats one out of a billion things I could possibly know." I groaned.

"Well it's a big thing, so be grateful you know that much! Go back to talking about your little princess dream or something." Mark shouted, clearly annoyed by the topic. He strolled back into the living room, plopping himself on the couch before changing the channel.

"As you say, Fischbach." I said, mocking a curtsy toward him, his last name covered in venom. "I always imagined I'd find this prince who would do anything for me, and y'know, I actually knew him."

"Yeah, should've stayed back with Tyler if you wanted that so badly."

"Really, I should've just stayed on campus if I wanted that so badly." I shrugged. "I would actually have friends I could lean on, a family that still accepted me-"

Mark stood up and turned toward me, shouting. "Oh, boo hoo! Poor Y/n doesn't have anyone there for her anymore! Tough shit! I've had to deal with it for years, deal with it. This is your life now."

I began walking toward him slowly. "I've been trying to be there for you, Mark! I've tried to let you know you could talk to me, that I could be your friend, but you shut me down every time!" I end, finally standing in front of him.

"What if I don't want a friend? Huh? You ever think about that?" Mark yelled, waving his arms around for exaggeration.

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could a violent knock sounded on the door. An elderly man stood at the clear, glass door, staring at us while violently knocking on the door. He yelled through the glass, pointing to his phone.

"Shit." Mark mumbled. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his bedroom, locking the door behind him. "The elderly couple, the fucking elderly couple next door is back!" Mark whisper shouted to himself, pacing.

"What are we doing, we need to leave!" I whisper shouted back.

Mark stopped pacing, dropping his hands from the side of his head. "No, we can't leave, Y/n, we're trapped at the moment. If we leave through the back door, he'll see us doing that through the front door he's staring through right now! The only way we can run is toward the road which is where the police are going to be coming in from. We'd just run right into them!"

My heart sped up at the realization of the situation. Fear took over my body, wondering what I was ever going to do. I can't go to jail, I just can't! I wouldn't survive an hour in there! I'm carrying a child! After getting used to Mark's presence, I couldn't begin to even think about my life in prison for years without this man that has both ruined and improved my life.

"We're screwed." Mark stated, eyes wide and full of fear- something I'd never thought I'd see on Mark. "You know how long we'll be in there? I'll be as old as that guy before I get released!" Mark whisper shouted, pointing at the wall to show he was talking about the man outside.

Mark continued to panic quietly as I stood still, unable to move or speak. The two of us were broken away from our thoughts minutes later when a harder, more firm knock came from the front door. Mark came up from behind me, holding me close to his chest and placing his hand tightly over my mouth, my back against his stomach like we were under the dock. Mark leaned down to my ear and whispered, "When they get in, I want you to take this and run." Mark instructed firmly, placing a pistol in my hand. "I'll distract them. You take this gun and run. Run as far away as you can and shoot anyone who gets in your way."

Mark's grip on my mouth loosened as he spoke, so I took that as an opportunity to turn around to face him. Tears in my eyes, I shook my head. "I can't-"

"You can."

"I can't leave you. I can't go alone in this world, I-I can't just leave you here to get thrown into jail for God knows how long." Tears were streaming down my face by now. The police outside were getting louder and both of us knew there was only so much time before they'd bust the door down.

"Get the truck and drive back to Seth's, the directions are still in the car." Mark stated.

Shaking my head again, I closed my eyes tightly. "I can't-" I was interrupted by a quiet sob.

Mark's thumb swiped across my cheeks, wiping them clear of tears and pressed a kiss to my forehead. He stepped away from me slowly, placing a hand on the bedroom door handle, knowing there were only a few seconds left. He sent a small smile my way, causing my grip on the pistol to tighten and more tears to fall from my eyes.

The sound of breaking glass comes from the living room and the police officer calmly stepped inside, on top of the broken glass. Mark quickly opens the door and darts out into the path of the single police officer. I stood in the bedroom, unable to move. Grunts and sounds of struggle could be heard and I clutched the pistol tighter, unsure of what to do. Without having to move from my spot at all, I could see Mark fall onto his back and being pinned down. Mark met my eyes and they screamed at me to go, but I couldn't physically bring myself to do what he said.

Mark fought against the dirty blonde, older looking male, flipping him over and landing a punch across his jaw. The two continued to beat each other for a few more moments until a whimper brought me out of my shocked daze. Poking my head out of the doorframe, I'm met with the sight of the police officer pinning Mark against the wall with strong force as he reached for his handcuffs. Mark looked weak, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Taking this as a time I should finally do something, I quietly enter the living room, aiming the pistol at the back of the police officer's head. Before he could clip the handcuffs around Mark's wrists, I shakily but firmly say, "Let go of him."

The man turns around at the sudden new voice, forgetting to hold onto Mark. Mark slides to the floor, head leaning weakly against the wall, face and body covered in bruises, cuts, and marks.

"Put the gun down." The officer demanded, holding a pistol of his own now. The sound of another gun being pointed woke Mark up, his eyes observing the situation.

"Leave her alone, she's innocent." Mark weakly spoke, eyes pointed with hatred at the officer.

The man quickly looked at Mark then back to me. "Shut up- now put the gun down."

"I forced her to come with me against her will, move the gun away from her." Mark spoke louder this time.

The officer let his anger get the better of him and landed a kick to Mark's stomach and screamed, "Shut up!"

"Don't touch him!" I yelled, stepping forward a bit and reminding him I had a gun.

"Ma'am, I'm gonna need you to put down your weapon!" He yelled, keeping his strong stance.

"Not until you put down yours." I mumbled, keeping the aim at his head.

The two of us began shouting at each other to put down our weapons at the same time. Not a word between us could be understood as our words mixed together, creating a mess. Mark, tired of the bickering and wanting nothing more than to get that gun away from your receiving end, kicked the man in the leg in attempt to make him drop the weapon. Instead of dropping the gun, though, a deafening pop rang and Mark's eyes widened quickly, full of regret, a sinking feeling in his stomach. In pain, I squeezed the gun in my (dominant hand) hand, pulling the trigger on the shocked male in front of me.

I was frozen when the pop of the gun rang throughout the house. I wanted to close my eyes, I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. The man fell to his knees and flopped on his side, a dark red liquid quickly falling from a small hole in his head. Mark, a cut under his eye and a busted lip, looked at me full of fear and worry, immediately spotting what was wrong. Before he could say anything, the pistol fell from my hands and onto the floor, myself falling with it. Now on the floor, I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, but nothing would come out. Over my struggle, I heard Mark grunt and a few shaky footsteps before I felt my head being propped up on something- or someone -and all I could see was Mark staring down at me in both emotional and physical pain.

For the second time today, I was faced with a sight I never thought I'd see in a lifetime- tears filling Mark's eyes. He stroked my hair back, frantically trying to decide what to do. Dark red covered my shirt, soaking it in the blood pouring out of the bullet wound in my stomach. Mark ripped his shirt off, wrapping it around my stomach quickly, whispering to me to stay awake.

Weakly, I placed my hand on his, bringing his attention back to me, halting his words. With my other hand, I grabbed the pistol again and wrapped Mark's fingers around it. "Run." I spoke with all the strength I had.

A sob escaped Mark's lips as he stared down at me. "Not without you."

Mark began pulling me to his chest, getting ready to pick me up but stopped when I spoke up again. "It's no use. Leave me, just go." I demand, slipping in and out of consciousness.

Mark repeated a series of 'no's, each getting less understandable when sobs drowned out his words, holding me close to him as I slipped away, allowing myself to relax and give in to the heavy amount of tiredness I felt. Suddenly, I felt at peace, something I haven't felt in a long time.

"I love you, please don't go." Being the last thing I heard before my body went completely limp, now separated from my body on Earth.

Damn, I love writing things like this, but I think that's something I should be concerned about •_•

Have a nice day :D