BELIEVING LIES
Elizabeth Anne
Copyright © 2021 Elizabeth Anne
All rights reserved.
Prologue
Thirty Minutes
He’s dead.
My eardrums became walls of stone. Cars drove past, but the only thing I could focus on was raging thoughts gathering in my head. The violent thumping of my beating heart echoed throughout my body. Lights from the stores I was passing were flashing in different, aggravating colors, hurting my eyes. My stomach turned over, and the inside of my mouth was dry sandpaper. I could feel bile rising to the back of my throat, enough to make me stop on the sidewalk to breathe so I wouldn’t throw up. I heard the chatter of people walking by me, but I couldn’t make sense of anything they were saying.
A girl bumped into my shoulder. She grabbed her bicep and winced before she looked at me. “I’m so sorry,” she said. She eyed the dirt and blood all over my face. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?”
I chuckled, then grazed my hand across my cheek. The blood started to spread, like an artist would do with paint. I could picture the red liquid coloring the paleness of my skin. I felt the gash across the side of my face when I touched it. The edges were hard, and it hurt like hell when I felt the open wound.
“Yeah, I just tripped. I’ll be okay, though,” I lied. She nodded slightly, walking away with fear written in her eyes.
Sweat dripped down my brow. I wiped away what I could, smudging the blood on my hand across my forehead. My eyelids threatened to close as I walked down the paved sidewalk. Droplets of rain fell onto my skin. I looked up at the clouds, remembering that Mom warned me of the storm that night. Within a few seconds, the rain got heavier. The way the water ran down my head made the scene from thirty minutes ago come rushing to me. I shuddered when the horrifying images appeared in my head.
The screaming, the arguing, and the blood all came hurling back to me like a nightmare you try to forget. The harder you resist, the more it refuses to leave your brain. I couldn’t get the picture of him lying on the ground erased. I couldn’t get any of it out of my mind. The horrific scene was taunting me.
Why won’t they stop?
The look of terror in his eyes pierced through my soul. His bloody figure tormented me. Pain abused my head, pounding against my skull. I grabbed it with trembling fingers to ease the torture. The pain refused to leave, only strengthening its grip over my sanity.
The streetlights blinded me. My eyes burned and turned teary. I wanted to run and hide—far away from there, somewhere where no one could find me. But I couldn’t do that. I had to keep walking. I pushed myself, neglecting the sweat running down my neck and dripping onto my shirt.
Thank god I wore black.
I knew my feet were moving, but I wasn’t paying attention. My mind was elsewhere. It was like I was trapped in some sort of daze, walking around aimlessly.
Like a zombie.
My thoughts started weighing on me, and the pressure built up. The pain was unbearable; I didn’t care where I was going. I wanted a break. A break from my head and my feet, but most of all from my body. My eyelids felt like weights, and I closed them for just one second.
“Get out of the road!” a raging voice screeched. I opened my eyes to find headlights staring back at me. A loud blast rang through my ears. I searched for an escape plan but came up empty. I couldn’t see anything else—the lights were paralyzing me.
And I thought the streetlamps were too much.
The car swerved out of the way and down the street. It went far, but not far enough for me not to see the driver flipping me off. I stood on the road for another minute, processing everything. I had closed my eyes for just one second. It was only one second.
How did I end up on the road?
I stared at the end of the street. It was all darkness. The light from the lamps shined on a few spots, but each only covered maybe three feet of the sidewalk. People could have been hiding in the shadows, lurking, and waiting for someone. I scanned the empty road. Then my eyes saw something else. It was a shadow or a figure of another person. Seemed like a boy, but I couldn’t tell. It was dark out, and he was far, but close enough for me to notice him. Goosebumps appeared all over my body. I shivered as I felt a glare from his direction. We were looking at each other, at least I thought we were. I silently debated if I should go up to him, but he walked away before I could act.
Guess that’s my decision.
The road went silent. It was as if everything had just…stopped. The trees sang a still hum as the wind brushed past, but that was it. No people around, no cars, no mysterious figure at the end of the street. I was finally alone. It seemed like a good moment to do something I was waiting to do ever since I saw him on the ground bleeding.
I screamed.
1
Five Hours
I kept running. Every step I took felt like a leap. All I could see were trees passing by me as I ran. There had been nothing else for the past hour. No roads, no cars, no humans except for him. It didn’t matter which way I went; I was stuck in the forest. My feet pounded against leaves; the sound of them crunching was the only thing I could hear. Every muscle in my body begged for a break which made running ten times harder. The fear of him catching me was the only reason I didn’t take one. I took a sharp breath, using it as my only source of energy to sprint, which quickly faded soon after. A cramp began to develop on my right side; my kidneys felt as if they were imploding. But I pushed myself; I kept my legs moving. Heavy breathing echoed in my ear as I was reminded that his feet were in sync with mine.
The sun began to go down, fast. I turned to look at it, a bright, orange light hitting my pupils. Before I knew it, the only light I could see was shining from the few gaps in the trees that the sun stood behind. I looked ahead of me just in time to see a branch coming at my head. I ducked, but the top of my forehead still got scraped by the end of it. I could feel blood running down, falling onto the bridge of my nose. I wiped it away, pushing myself further.
Every turn I took, he took with me. I wanted to look back to get a clear image of his face, but I knew it would only have slowed me down. Not knowing who was chasing me made me feel even sicker. Did I know them? Were they a stranger to me? The only thing I knew for sure was to never stop running. My feet were aching, burning with pain. I needed to stop. Every time I caught myself slowing down, the sound of his stomping feet would remind me to go faster.
How was he not tired?
No matter how fast I ran, he was always right behind me. He was so close I could feel the heat of his breath on my shoulder. The forest was hot enough as it was, keeping my body sweating constantly. It wasn’t until he grabbed me that I knew there was no chance of escaping. He threw me to the ground effortlessly. My back broke the impact of my fall when I landed on rocks and snapped twigs. The rocks were hard, and I knew I’d end up with bruises. The ends of the branches poked at my skin, drawing blood. I looked up at the figure that was chasing me. His face was disguised with blood, dirt, and tears. Even with the night that had fallen upon us, I could easily tell who it was.
“Nick!” I called out.
My eyes launched opened to see that I wasn’t in the hands of Nick Walter. I took a deep breath, trying to relax, but it resulted in me choking. I guess I was holding my breath, but I don’t know for how long. Darkness crept around me, bringing an anxious feeling along. I quickly turned to my side to turn my lamp on. My room became bright as I checked my surroundings. Posters of old punk rock bands hanging on my navy-blue walls made me feel safe. I hadn’t realized how much comfort they gave me until that moment. I wasn’t being chased by a bloody Nick in the middle of a forest. It was a nightmare. That felt real. Almost like a memory. But I was safe and alone.
Am I?
I was searching for air. I sat on my mattress, waiting for my lungs to be filled. It made me feel like I was six again when I used to wake up screaming for help. Mom would hold me until I felt safe. I wanted to run to her, for her to hold me. But I thought about what she would think if she knew what I had done. I thought of Nick, and his image came back to me. Watching him bleed out of his head made me feel sick to my stomach. The thick red blood was gushing out of his head, and I stood there and watched. His eyes were focused on me; emptiness stood behind them. At least they were, until his eyes were blocked by the blood pouring from his head.
My heart started beating out of my chest. It felt like my stomach was tearing to shreds. I took deep breaths to calm myself down. I looked around to check again to make sure I was safe. My head was pounding from the fear slowly building up, waiting to pop. I stood up and felt all the blood rush to my head. Heat rose to my face while I checked the time.
3:07 a.m.
The air in my room felt thick as if someone had put a sauna in there. Sweat stuck to my body, making me feel sticky. I grabbed a towel that was lying on my floor and tried to wipe it off, but it didn’t work. The heat started to make me light-headed. I walked over to my bathroom. Turning the sink on and letting the water fall down the drain reminded me of the blood from the night before. I closed my eyes and let the darkness surround me. I splashed cold water on my face and let the water flow down on its own. I wiped my eyes, then stared into the mirror. My black hair had gotten wet and slicked to the side of my forehead. It started to drip water, making a clinging sound when it hit the bottom of the sink. Shivers ran up my back, and I suddenly felt like I wasn’t alone.
What the hell?
A figure stood behind me. Not close enough for me to feel it. There was no face, no distinctive body either. Just a black shadow. Standing there. If it had eyes, they would’ve been staring into mine. I took in a shaky breath, feeling my fingers quiver. I closed my eyes and told myself it was nothing, a mere shadow. When I opened my eyes again, it was closer. Almost breathing on me. I could feel the heat radiating from whatever it was. My heartbeat was so fast I thought it was about to break my rib cage. My entire body was trembling with fear. I quickly turned around to find nothing but my shower. There was no weird figure. I looked back in the mirror and just saw my plain, white wall.
I must be seeing things.
I rinsed my face again, hoping to wash away whatever that was. Rubbing my eyes created pressure behind them. The strain crawled up to my head to form a migraine. I winced at the sudden pain and grabbed a cloth. I patted myself dry before looking in the mirror again.
I didn’t see the shadow man, but I saw something else. My gash from the night before was wide open, and blood was pouring from it. It oozed out, radiating a smell that I could only describe as metallic. My eyes were bloodshot instead of their normal ocean blue, and my upper lip was cut open. The swelling from my eyes started to block parts of my vision. It was like blowing up a bouncy house or an air mattress. I was watching my face puff up. I looked at my arms and noticed dark bruises all over them. Each one seemed to have climbed up my arms, dragging an intolerable pain with them. I watched as the blood dripped from my face and fell on my shirt.
Oh my god.
I fell backward at the sight. I had no idea where all the blood and bruises had come from. I didn’t remember getting cut up that bad or bleeding that much. I didn’t even feel the pain until I saw it. I started backing up when a sharp and sudden pain reached the back of my head from hitting the wall. I sat on my bathroom floor and waited as the darkness crept over me. Then there was nothing.
There was only darkness for what seemed like minutes. Slowly, the pain in my head worsened. My eyes slowly opened, and they drifted around the room. That’s when the yelling began.
“Kyle! Time to get up!” There was banging on my door, which created a loud echo in my head from the migraine.
Wow, it’s like I have a hangover.
But worse.
I stared blankly at the tiled floor for a few moments.
Why did I sleep on the bathroom floor?
I thought about it for a few minutes, trying to remember what happened last night. Flashes of what he looked like pierced through my brain. I pushed them away to remember the rest of my night.
I was bleeding.
I jumped up and peered into the mirror. The blood dripping from my face had completely disappeared. Even the wound across my cheek seemed to have healed a bit. There was no blood gushing from it. I checked my shirt, and it was clean besides some patches of dirt from the forest.
I forgot to change.
I looked at my arms, and the purple bruises that were there last night were gone. I checked all over, and there was nothing. I even poked at them to see if they were just faded, but no. There was no pain. I was fine. I looked back at the mirror. The glass showed my reflection. I seemed fine. Besides the huge cut on my face, you wouldn’t think there was anything wrong with me. The mirror shimmered in the light.
Why did I see things that weren’t there?
“Kyle!” a high-pitched voice screamed from downstairs. Before I left my room, I took one more peek at the glass that seemed to make me see things. No one was there except me. That pissed me off even more. I closed my fists as tight as I could to stop myself from punching it. I made my way down the stairs to find Mom packing things up, getting ready to leave for work.
She’s the chief of surgery at the Concord General Hospital. She used to tell me all about her surgeries when I was little, back before she became chief. Now she says all she does is watch over others to make sure they don’t kill anybody. She also deals with lawsuits and cases. I don’t know what that means. Why would a hospital have a lawsuit filed against it? They are supposed to help people.
“There is this big case at work, and I am extremely late to meet with the patients. They must be a wreck thinking about the surgery with no answers,” she rambled while making her coffee. While it was brewing, she grabbed a scrunchie and started putting up her silky brown hair. “I mean, who wouldn’t be?”
I stood in the doorway, waiting to see if she would notice me before she left. If she would even look at me. I had watched her walk out that door without even giving me a thought for years. She was always so busy. When she was just a surgeon, we rarely saw her. Then she got promoted, and she practically disappeared. She was never home unless it was midnight to six a.m.
“And I am going to stay at the hospital tonight. The surgery is going to take at least seventeen hours, and we don’t start for another six,” she said while grabbing her to-go mug. “What am I missing? Oh! Have you seen my big folder with all of my work papers?”
I shook my head, and she frowned. Her nose crinkled up whenever she did that, causing a crease between her eyebrows. She sighed and just kept collecting items around the living room. She placed her mug down to put some things into her bag.
“Can I not go to school today?” I pleaded, finally speaking up.
She stopped for a second and looked at me. She opened her mouth to answer, then she noticed the gash across my cheek. She gasped and dropped her purse. Her heels clicked against the floor as she made her way over to me.
“Sweetie, what happened?” She held my face, placing her fingers alongside the gash. “It looks like you need stitches.”
“No, I’m fine.” I pushed her away. “I just fell yesterday.” She looked at me as if she didn’t believe me. It was the truth, just not the whole truth. I didn’t tell her where I fell and why I fell. I didn’t tell her a lot of things that happened. I didn’t know most of the things that happened myself.
“Well, you have to be more careful. And don’t forget to clean it out. And no, you cannot skip school. You need to go.” She grabbed her bags and coffee, then reached for the door. “Ask Henry for a ride. He’s going to work this morning so he can bring you. Okay, bye. I love you!”
She kissed me on my other cheek befo
re leaving and shutting the door behind her. I heard her engine turn on and listened as the tires screeched down the driveway. The sound of her car faded with every second.
Why’s she in a rush?
I looked over at the basement door. There was a sign on the door that he’d had since we were little that read, Keep Out, Kyle. Made me feel like I was just this thing he couldn’t get off the bottom of his shoe. Henry was my older brother, who looked after me until I was eight. That’s when he decided he wanted nothing to do with me. He shut himself in and locked everyone else out. He didn’t leave the basement for months. Mom finally decided to let him move his room down there. Three years later, and he’s still there.
I made my way to our expensive kitchen. At least it looked like it was. Everything was new and clean. I didn’t care all that much. Sure, it looked nice, but no one used it. Our marble top counters were always clean because no one used them. None of our cabinets were broken or chipped because there was no food in the house. We’ve grown up on takeout and paper plates. It is nice not to do dishes, though. I opened the fridge to peek inside when I heard footsteps coming up from the basement. Henry walked in, running his fingers through his hair. His deep brown hair was just a mixture of Mom’s and Dad’s genes and one of the things he tormented me about. He used to tease me, saying how I wasn’t even Mom’s kid, considering I looked nothing like her. I know better now, but it was the worst thing you could possibly hear when you’re in elementary. I would stare into the mirror for hours, trying to find a similarity between Mom and me. She has deep brown eyes that match her hair. I have these oceanic, bright blue eyes with black hair that are just like my dad’s.
For some reason, Henry started to flex his arms as if trying to threaten me with how much he had been working out. I rolled my eyes, looking back into the fridge. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as he slipped his red uniform on over the tank top he was wearing.
Believing Lies Page 1