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The clock strikes 1 AM and his breathing is stable, so he must be in a deep sleep. It’s now or never.

Slowly, I slide away from his heavy limbs that are draped over me. It’s more of a task I had accounted for, since, well, I didn’t realise how heavy a sleeping body can be, and imagine it being a six-feet tall muscular dude. Note to self, I should start lifting weights.

He moves to his side, and a small sigh comes from him, making me freeze on the spot. Dread fills me. What if he wakes up? I mean, I can just lie and say I needed to pee, but he’ll probably wait until I’m back, so it might go to shit way sooner than anticipated.

His breathing sounds steady again after a couple of seconds, and he doesn’t move anymore. It gives me the sign that it’s okay for me to go on and move out of the bed. As relief fills me, I tiptoe to the bathroom.

I quickly put on my pants and pull my hoodie over my oversized sleeping shirt, grab my bag, and then quietly go down the stairs. I feel like I’m doing something illegal, while I’m pretty sure locking me inside a house against my will is illegal too.

So far, he hasn’t woken up yet, and I pray to the god I never really believed in to please make this work.

It’s dark and the house is silent except for my own ragged breathing. I grab the key from between the couch pillows and get to the front door, slowly unlocking it and getting out of here.

I park the car I borrowed from Ryan, though, is it borrowed if he doesn’t exactly know about it? I’m just going to go with yes.

I have some plastic garbage bags in my backpack so the dirt wouldn’t get everywhere, so I don’t think he’d even notice that I used it anyway.

I pull the hood of my hoodie over my head. I know that cemeteries are not very well protected based on all the grave robberies I see on the news often, but you never know.

Grabbing my shovel, I walk towards the place I hate the most, and start digging.