Believing Lies
Page 7
“What the heck?” I questioned aloud. I peeked under the bed and noticed a long, shiny object. It was now a little bloody, but I recognized it.
A knife?
“What happened?” Marie rushed over and gasped when she saw my bloody hand. She grabbed ahold of it. “Why did you— ”
“I didn’t!” I fought back before she even finished her question. “There’s a knife under the bed!”
She crouched down to look under the bed. She was looking for a good two minutes before she responded. “Kyle, there’s nothing under here.”
“What?” I pushed her out of the way. But when I looked under, the knife that cut me was now gone. I triple-checked my mistake before staring down at my hand.
Why is this happening?
“Dude, they are never gonna let you leave now.” She sighed. I stood up and started wiping the blood off my hand.
“Yes, they will because they aren’t going to know about this.” I walked to the bathroom and started rinsing my hands off. The clear water turned red as it fell down the drain.
Like the night Nick died.
Or didn’t die.
Marie stepped into the doorway of my bathroom. “But isn’t this your subconscious self-harming problem?” she tried to point out.
“No! Because that doesn’t exist. I’m not crazy, and I don’t hurt myself, so just keep quiet and back off.” She stared at me for a few seconds before returning to my room. I shut my eyes, trying to figure out my plan. I felt bad for getting mad at her, but she is just so pushy at times. Something must’ve cut me. I know it.
I walked out of the bathroom and started cleaning off the floor. She sat on my bed, watching over me as I wiped away my blood. Her hair was in her fingers as she played with it.
“So, you’re just going to pretend like nothing happened?” She grunted. “Got it.”
“Do you even realize how much longer I’d be stuck here for?” I argued, throwing away my shirt and covering it with a bunch of tissues.
“Yes, but because it seems like you need the help, Kyle!” she countered. “Also, that won’t work; just bring the shirt with you.”
I grabbed the shirt covered in red stains again and buried it in my bag. I zipped it up, placing it on my bed. There was a lot less light that day; it was cloudy, so there was no more sun shining through the windows. The bare walls made me shudder from the emptiness of the room. I groaned, pulling on my hair.
“Kyle, you saw your best friend almost die, and you thought it was your fault for nine days,” she pointed out. “If anyone needs help, it’s you.”
“It is my fault!” I growled. “I am the reason he is hurt, and now I have to live with it! I am not allowed to get help any more; I don’t deserve it.”
Her eyes turned soft. She looked to the ground, unsure of what to say next. We stood there in silence. Neither one of us knew what to say. I only knew one thing; she knew about Nick. And she knew what I did, which would be a big mistake if he turns up dead. Marie had to keep her mouth shut; my life was at stake here.
You don’t deserve a life.
I grunted at the thought that escaped from the back of my mind. Marie noticed the noise and huffed. “You can’t live each day blaming yourself, Kyle.”
Her words hit me. But they didn’t stay. “I have to.”
Just then, Mom walked in, knocking on the door. She stared at Marie and me for a few seconds, noticing the tension between us. Soon, she locked eyes with me and smiled.
“You ready to go home?”
Mom and I left, and she wouldn’t stop talking about Marie. I spent the whole car ride trying to convince her that Marie was just a friend.
“I don’t know,” she insisted, “you guys seemed a lot closer than just friends.”
I groaned, closing my eyes. “No, we are just friends, Mom. Can we stop talking about this?”
She shrugged and didn’t say anything else. She just kept glancing at me from the driver’s seat and giggling. We arrived home about twenty minutes later, and I noticed Henry’s car was missing. I asked Mom, and she thought about it for a second.
“Oh!” She realized. “He went camping. He was so excited about it; he packed all his stuff weeks in advance. Remember that bag that was sitting in the hallway?”
I stood up and grabbed the bag, about to throw it at him, when I noticed something. It was a shiny object, and it was reflecting off one of the lights in our hallway. I reached into the bag and fumbled around a bit. My hand grazed against something sharp, and it brought stinging pain to my hand. I yanked my hand out of the bag and stared in awe.
Dark, warm blood dripped from my hand. The blood kept getting darker the more I stared at it. It dripped onto the floor, creating a pool of dark blood.
“Yeah, I do,” I muttered back, grabbing my things from the trunk.
I guess that’s why he had the knife.
But what about the gun?
Who needs a gun on a camping trip?
The wind blew, creating a whistle effect in my ears. The trees swayed back and forth, almost dancing with the song the wind sang. I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy it. I decided there was no point in getting worked up about Henry since he wasn’t there for me to confront him.
Wow, I’m not mad?
These pills must be working.
Mom and I made our way into the house, carrying some bags. I didn’t bring much to begin with, but Mom brought me new clothes every day. I kept telling her that I wasn’t staying long. She didn’t care. Everyone hated me on the floor because of Mom. Besides Marie, that is. They all thought I was getting special treatment, and maybe I was.
The house was the same as it always was. I don’t know why I expected it to look different; it was the same house I’ve always lived in. I guess I expected it to feel different. It was still empty and dusty. The sun even peeked through the windows the same way.
After an hour of putting stuff away, Mom came into my room.
“Hey, hun, the hospital just called me. They need me to go to do surgery. Are you okay on your own?”
I told her I was and continued to unpack. She reminded me to take my medication at seven thirty. I finished putting my things away before walking around the house. I’m not sure why, but I was drawn to the hallway with all the pictures. I stared long and hard at this one frame. It was Nick and me with Max. Nick was holding Max up like a prize, and I was laughing beside them.
I lost two of my best friends.
And they’re both my fault.
I slid down the wall, slowly pushing my feet out. An aching pain appeared in my head and chest. I hated this feeling. I had to start taking deep breaths to calm myself down, but it wasn’t working. I sat there, rocking back and forth for what seemed like hours.
It’s all your fault.
All your fault.
You did this to them.
They wouldn’t leave me alone. My thoughts kept charging at me like a lion, beating me down until I was nothing. Until there was nothing, except bones. I rubbed my eyes frantically, trying to make them stop. They kept coming until I heard a ring.
The phone.
I stood up, shaking the thoughts out of my head before answering the phone. I picked it up and pressed it to my ear, feeling the coolness of it on my cartilage.
“Hello?” I answered, still trying to push away what was going on in my mind.
“Hey!” Luke chirped on the other side. “How are you doing?”
A car raced past the house, distracting me. The high-pitched whine of the speeding car was hurting my ears, making my headache worse. I groaned out loud.
“Fine, I just have this bad headache,” I replied, shifting the phone to the other side so I was now facing the kitchen. “Or migraine. That’s what the doctors call it.”
“That sucks; I’m sorry, Kyle.”
Luke was always apologizing, even for stuff that wasn’t his fault. He’s just that kind of guy. Which is why I hated him at first.
“Not your fault, du
de,” I croaked. “Just my life at the moment.”
“Still—” I heard a faint sigh before he continued talking. “—okay, so you don’t have to go, considering you just got out of the hospital—”
“Psych ward.” I corrected him.
He paused for a moment. I could imagine his exact facial expression. Eyebrows furrowed together, mouth open, and eyes squinted down at me.
“Same thing,” he muttered. I laughed aloud before letting him finish. “Anyways, there is going to be a search party for Nick tonight. And you don’t have to come—”
I tuned out what he was saying. There was going to be a search party for Nick. I could see if he was still alive. If his body wasn’t there, then he’s alive. Just lost or confused.
It would mean I’m not a murderer.
The thought of his body still there made my legs weak. I didn’t know if I could handle seeing him like that again. It had been nine days; he would look worse. Animals would’ve eaten parts of him or bugs infesting in his corpse.
The image of Nick’s body going through all that made me regurgitate into my trashcan. I pulled the phone as far away from me as I could, but I heard Luke asking if I was okay. I wiped my mouth clean and flicked the vomit into the trash. I held the phone up to my ear again and told him I would be there.
“You don’t have to come if you aren’t feeling up to it.” Luke faltered.
I chuckled. “Kind of sounds like you don’t want me there.”
Luke gave a soft laugh, but not a Luke laugh. It almost sounded fake. “Well, Noelle is going to be there.”
I was caught off guard by that. I wasn’t sure what he meant, so I asked him, clenching the phone in my hands tightly.
“Nothing. It’s just that you and Noelle have been hanging out a lot more recently.”
“Luke, she’s like one of my closest friends,” I argued.
I looked at the white walls of my kitchen and focused on a spot so I could try and control my anger. I looked to where I threw my phone when it broke.
“Yeah, but you still have feelings for her, don’t you? This would be a perfect time to swoop in and steal his girl.”
My mouth fell to the floor. I stared at the spot until it meant nothing to me. The rage that was building up inside me boiled over and spewed at Luke.
“Okay, listen,” I barked. “Noelle would never do that to Nick, and neither would I. We have only been hanging out together more because Nick isn’t here to spend time with her. I’m not trying to take his girl or whatever else you think is going on. Screw you for even thinking of me like that.”
I slammed the phone back on its holder. The holder cracked, and the phone dangled inches from the ground. I watched as it bounced around for a bit. The broken holder soon fell off the wall, leaving only a thin wire connecting it to the power socket. The phone crashed onto the ground with a loud rattle. I found it funny how Luke and I were in a fight about Noelle. It reminded me of a time when Nick and I were fighting over her too.
She was starting to seem like the root of all my problems.
8
Day Twelve
The next morning, I woke up to an empty house. I walked to the kitchen and read the note that was left for me.
—Hi, hon! I had to go to work early, don’t forget to take your medicine! Also, Henry will be arriving home today. Please don’t fight! Your father and I will be home before it gets too late. Love you!—
I took the note and placed it on the counter. I looked at it for a while before deciding that it was strange. Mom was never the type to leave notes.
You were also never the type to get put into a psych ward, so a lot has changed.
I went to open the fridge when a ringing went off in the house. I looked at the broken phone hanging there, but the sound was further away. I traveled around the house until I heard the ringing from behind a door. It was in my mom’s office.
I could take a message for her.
I opened her door and looked around her office. She had bookcases lined up against the walls, filled with medical cases. Her desk had a lot of locked drawers, but most of the papers were on her desk, anyways.
What’s the point of the drawers, then?
I pushed the papers around and finally found the phone. I answered it with a swift, “Hello.”
“Hi! My name is Katherine Agnes. I work with the local news station. Is Kyle Davis there?”
I was confused. Why would they call Mom’s work phone to talk to me?
“Speaking.”
“Kyle, you are one tough guy to get in contact with.” The woman almost scolded me over the phone. I realized why they were calling me.
Noelle gave them my name.
“We wanted to see if you would do an interview with us about Nick Walter.”
No.
“No,” I gritted out. She was silent; I could hear faint whispers in the background. I rolled my eyes at the room of grown-ups who were unaware of how to talk to a sixteen-year-old.
“May I ask why?” She spluttered. Laughter tried to escape from my mouth, but I covered it with my hand to stop myself.
“Listen,” I commanded, “I think it’s sick that you people are trying to get a story on a missing person for views or money. Nick is a person, a human being. Not some inside scoop that you guys can earn promotions from. You have pictures of what he looks like, and you know what he was wearing. Why don’t you tell people that information so we can get him home instead of asking me to tell you what he was like?”
I slammed the phone down, causing the desk to tremble. Some papers flew to the floor, but I didn’t care. I left the office and shut the door behind me. The house seemed to have rocked when the door closed. The way the house shook reminded me I had to take my pills.
I hate taking the pills.
I went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. I took out my bottles and started taking them. One by one, I swallowed each pill. Pushing them down my throat. I’ve never had problems swallowing pills before, but it was hard after I was choked. The way the pills blocked my airway for a split second while swallowing them terrified me. The sound of a car pulling into my driveway distracted me from the thought. I realized who came home.
Henry.
The door swung open, and Henry came inside, carrying two bags. One of which I recognized from a couple of nights ago. Henry didn’t notice me in the kitchen at first. I watched as he left his bags in the hallway and walked into the dining room. He looked up and faced me. He jumped back a bit and did a double-take.
“Oh,” he muttered. “You’re home. How was the hospital?”
Is he serious?
“It’s a hospital,” I blatantly replied, staring him down. He walked to the fridge and grabbed a water bottle from it. He nodded and took a swig of his water. I didn’t break eye contact with him, and he raised his eyebrows at me.
“What?” he raged. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Why was there a gun in your bag?”
His face turned red, and he grunted. He started choking on the water. He ran to the sink and spit it up. He wiped it off his face, and I turned to face his back. He was still hanging over the sink. In between his coughing fits, he said, “I don’t have a gun.”
“You looked caught off guard just a minute ago,” I pointed out. “Suspicious.”
He turned around and faced me. His jaw clamped shut, and his eyes turned dark. His fists were opening and closing as if he was deciding whether he should punch me or not.
I really hope he won’t.
My eye still hasn’t healed from Mark.
“Why would I own a gun?” he rebutted. “Do you actually think Mom would let me have a gun?”
I thought about it for a moment, with Henry’s eyes staring me down. Mom wouldn’t let him have a gun. And she would find it at some point.
“But I felt it!” I argued. “I felt it in your bag!”
“Why were you in my bag?” he bellowed.
Crap.
Henry took a step forward, bending down to meet my height. He gritted his teeth while speaking. “That doesn’t mean you get to go through my bag.”
I took a few steps back so I wouldn’t have to smell his breath any more. “That doesn’t matter. I felt the gun!”
He walked over to his bags and grabbed them. He threw the one that I went through at me. “Go ahead and check.” I held it in my hands. I could feel his anger toward me. The bag didn’t feel heavy. I opened it up and placed my hand inside. Carefully, this time. I felt the prick of the top of the knife, but no metal. No gun.
“I have a question for you, Kyle.” He grabbed two of my pill bottles and shook them in the air. The rattle sound of it echoed throughout the house. “Did you feel the gun before or after you went crazy?”
I clamped down on the bag as hard as I could to stop myself from doing anything stupid. His smirk burned through my head, and I lost control. I shook the bag empty till I found the knife. I held it up; the metal part shined with the sun coming through the windows. I watched Henry’s eyes widen, and he took a few steps back.
“You’re crazy!” he screamed at me.
I’m not crazy.
I’m just a monster.
I took the knife and raised it above my shoulder slowly. Henry stepped back, watching my every move. I threw the knife to the floor, just missing his feet. It stuck to the wood like a magnet to a piece of metal with a quick, sharp noise. Henry flinched at the sudden noise, almost dropping to the ground.
He’s scared of me.
Good.
~
Dad came home later that night. He said Mom was still stuck in surgery. I told him about the search party for Nick before I was about to leave.
“Alright, but I picked up something for you,” he told me, reaching into a plastic bag and throwing a phone at me. “Since your old one broke.”