Believing Lies

by Elizabeth, Anne

  “Excuse me,” I said to the lady behind the counter.

  She looked up at me and said, “Mmm.” But her fingers were still typing

  “Um…” I struggled. “Where is the children’s unit?”

  She pointed in the direction of two big doors. “Down that hallway, then take a right and through another set of doors.”

  Anyone can just walk in here and go where the sick children are?

  That’s not safe.

  I followed the lady’s directions and found the animal wallpaper. I was walking past the counter when someone stopped me.

  “Sir, who are you here to see?”

  I turned to face a guy who was holding a clipboard. Either he thought I was lost, or I looked suspicious.

  “Mark Evans,” I informed him. “He was brought here last night.”

  His eyes lit up, and he grinned at me. “Are you the kid that found him?”

  What the hell?

  Am I some heroic news story here?

  “Dude, you are amazing!” he sang. “I’ll bring you right to him.”

  I thanked him in the nicest way I could and followed him down the hallways. I couldn’t believe what he said. Did everyone here know what happened to Mark? And what I did? I didn’t even do anything.

  While we were walking, the guy told me about Mark’s recovery. “He has made amazing progress this morning. He woke up, and he can make grunts and noises, he just can’t form words. But he is fully able to comprehend what you are saying, and it seems like he has movement in his body. Lucky kid.”

  Lucky?

  Mark’s lucky?

  He was beaten and can’t speak.

  We turned the corner, and Mark was sitting up in his bed. His head was still wrapped in a bandage. A nurse was speaking to him. She pointed down the hallway at me, which made Mark turn and look. I waved, hoping he won’t be mad.

  Please don’t hate me for coming here.

  Then Mark did something I haven’t seen him do in a long time. Unless it caused trouble.

  He smiled.

  He actually smiled at me.

  I walked into the room, and his smile was still very present. The nurse told me that she explained to him what happened, so he was fully aware of his condition. She also said that he healed quickly from the accident and that some policemen were going to coming later to question me.

  Question me?

  “Do they think I did it?” I asked, my palms suddenly dripping with sweat. You could sense the anxiety radiating off me. She gave me a concerned look.

  “No, of course not, sweetie. They just want to see if you saw anything that could help them find the guy. Mr. Evans gave his statement. Well, as best as he could. They asked him if it was you, and he shook his head.”

  I looked over to Mark, and he grinned at me. This was the Mark that I knew. Before he started making trouble and getting involved with drugs. This was the Mark I was friends with.

  The nurse left after checking his vitals. I apologized to Mark for what happened to him. He didn’t seem that upset about it. As if talking was a burden to him. I asked if his parents had called, and he shook his head. When we were younger, Mark’s parents would “leave on vacation” all the time, and Mark would have to stay at our place until they came back. The longest time was four months.

  I sat down in a chair beside his bed, and I felt something poke my stomach.

  “Oh right.” I spoke softly, pulling out the pictures in my pocket. “I brought pictures so we could look at them. I thought maybe it would help.” Mark smiled and nodded. I showed him the first picture. It was just the two of us. We were in a classroom, probably first grade, and we were grinning at the camera. We both had lost our two front teeth and wanted to show that we were twins.

  “Mom wanted a picture so bad,” I laughed. Mark did too, but it was a weak one. “I remember after this photo, we went out and got ice cream which hurt our mouths because our teeth were missing.”

  I showed him a few more photos of us and some with Nick. I watched his face become sadder.

  “They are gonna find him, you know,” I told Mark. “Nick will come back.”

  I couldn’t figure out who I was trying to convince more, Mark or myself.

  I flipped to the next photo and realized Mark wasn’t in it.

  “Oh, sorry, it must’ve gotten stuck with the rest. We’ll just move on—”

  Mark started grunting at me. His eyes widened, and fear was written on his face. He was staring at the photo, practically screaming. I looked at the picture and saw me, Nick, Henry, and Luke. Luke, Nick, and I were in front of the picture, posing with our arms around each other. Henry was in the back, throwing a ball at my head.

  “Luke?” I asked. “What’s wrong with Luke?”

  Mark looked at me, his eyes red and bulging out of his head. They looked like they were about to pop. He started shaking, moving the bed around. His grunts were so loud the whole hospital probably heard them.

  “Mark! Calm down!” I begged. Doctors came rushing in and instructed me to leave. I walked out the door and watched in before they shut it closed. People were trying to hold him down; one was injecting him with medicine, and others were frantically trying to find some way to help. Mark stared at me through the tiny window in the door, still fighting the doctors.

  What did Luke do?

  I was soon told to come back later when Mark was feeling better. When I asked if he was going to be okay, the nurse just said, “Probably,” before stomping away.

  I walked down the hallway that I was too familiar with at this point to be met by police officers.

  “Hello, son,” one of them said in a deep voice—raspy—sounded like he smoked a lot. The other police officer was wearing blue socks with pizza on them. I could see it because he pulled them over the bottom of his pants. As if he was proud to show them off.

  They looked like the same person, just at different stages of life.

  “Hey,” I said back, “if you are looking for Mark’s room, it’s not a good time.”

  “Rough day?” Officer Socks asked. I nodded my head. “Too bad. Are you Kyle?”

  What’s with all the questions?

  “Yes, sir,” I informed him. I figured this was the questioning phase. They asked me to answer a few questions about the night I saw Mark. We went to the cafeteria, and they bought me a soda. I offered to pay, but they wouldn’t let me. After I got my drink, we sat down at a table in the far corner where very few people were.

  “Now, we want you to remember every detail of that night. Anything you can tell us, even the smallest thing, could help,” Officer Smoker pleaded with me.

  My feet slowed the pace when I noticed a figure standing ahead. He was hunched over, leaning against a store window. I figured he was looking at something, but as I got closer, the blood dripping from his body made itself visible to me.

  “Sir!” I called out, running to him. “Are you okay?”

  He turned to me, his eyes bloodshot red. Scratches and wounds gushing with blood were all over his face, and I almost didn’t recognize him.

  “Mark?” I asked. I was only a few inches away from him now. Cuts were ripped into his shirt, and the cloth around them was stained with blood. He pushed himself away from the wall and started leaning toward me. I caught him before he hit the ground, and he grabbed my shoulders, trying to steady himself.

  “Then he fell to the ground,” I explained, trying to recall that night. “I tried to keep him upright, but he was so heavy, and I was trying to dial nine-one-one as well.”

  “Did he say anything to you?” Socks asked, leaning forward on the table. Officer Smoker was writing things down on a notepad. I didn’t know they actually did those things; I thought it was just a Hollywood myth.

  “He said he didn’t do it to himself,” I answered. Their heads both shot up and stared at me. I thought I said something wrong, and I could feel my heart try to jump out of my chest. Warmth grew in my hands and down my back. I started to say
the ABCs backward to calm myself down. Marie taught me that.

  “Why would he say that?” Smoker questioned.

  I took a breath in and drank my soda to wet my throat that turned to sand. “We were friends since we were like five. He got involved with a bad crowd and started doing bad things to himself. Drugs and such. He always looked horrible, so I guess he just thought I would think he did that to himself.”

  Socks nodded while Smoker wrote it down. They started whispering to each other. I ignored it the best I could. I figured I was in the clear.

  “And you two were also friends with Nick Walter, right?”

  I stared at them. I couldn’t tell which one asked the question. I wasn’t paying attention. I was thrown off by the question.

  Nick?

  Why would they ask about Nick?

  “Yes. We were until Mark started getting us in trouble,” I confessed.

  “But you and Nick were still friends?” Smoker asked. I nodded.

  Do they think I’m the cause of this?

  Of Nick?

  Of what happened to Mark?

  I was partly to blame for Nick, but I did nothing to Mark.

  “Do you think I did this to them?” I asked. Socks moved his head to the side and started shaking it.

  “No, of course not. Just one more question for you, Kyle,” he said, smiling at me. He was trying to reassure me.

  “Okay,” I answered.

  I couldn’t believe these officers. They were just as stupid as this hospital. It seemed like no one knew how to do their jobs around here. Nick and Mark were two separate cases, with two separate stories. They had no relation to each other.

  Smoker turned to me and asked, “Was it Nick’s idea to cut Mark off from your friend group?”

  What does that have to do with—

  Oh.

  They think Nick…

  My jaw clenched subconsciously, making my teeth ache. I could feel my fists tighten, my nails digging into my skin, drawing blood. It dripped from my palm and onto my pants. Anger boiled inside of me.

  “You think Nick did this to Mark?” I challenged.

  Socks could tell I was upset. When he was about to speak, Smoker cut him off.

  “We have a hunch. Nick left his family, his girlfriend, and friends. Signs of drug abuse. Now this happens? It’s obvious what happened to the kid. Nick probably went to him for drugs, and when the kid wouldn’t give him any, Nick got mad.”

  I should change his name to Stupid.

  Because he is a stupid idiot.

  “Are you dumb?” I questioned. His head snapped toward me.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Are you dumb?” I barked back. I stood up in my chair; a loud noise pierced through the room because of me scraping it against the floor. Stupid Smoker stood up with me. “You must be some officer to think a missing kid would do this to somebody! Nick wouldn’t hurt anyone!”

  “Kid, you need to calm down,” Socks said, standing up.

  “No!” I shouted, gaining the attention of everyone in the cafeteria. “This is ridiculous. Clearly, you guys don’t know how to do your jobs!”

  I stomped out of the cafeteria with all eyes on me. The officers remained in their position, whispering to each other like middle school girls. I wanted to punch them in the face. I wanted to scream and throw things at their heads. I made eyes with a little girl sitting at the table with her father. She was in a wheelchair wearing a beanie with a tube out of her nose. I recognized her from the first time I walked through the doors. The only thing I didn’t see last time was written all over her face. It was fear. She was scared of me.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered under my breath, continuing out the doors. As I made my way out of the hospital, memories came flooding back of the night I found Mark.

  “Mark?” I asked. I was only a few inches away from him now. Cuts were ripped into his shirt, and the cloth around them was stained with blood. He pushed himself away from the wall and started leaning toward me. I caught him before he hit the ground, and he grabbed my shoulders, trying to steady himself.

  “Kyle, I didn’t do this to myself. I—” He struggled, trying to explain to me what happened. I told him to shush as I pulled out my phone and dialed 911 for help. Mark was falling to the ground as I tried to hold him up with one hand; the feeling of blood dripping onto my arm shook me.

  “It was Nick.” My head snapped to look at Mark, to see if he was really saying that or if it was a figment of my hallucinations. His eyes were peacefully shut, and his breathing started to slow.

  ~

  After walking around the streets of Concord, I finally concluded I was delusional. There was no way Mark said Nick did that to him.

  Maybe Mark was freaking out about Nick in the photo.

  Trying to tell me it was him.

  I thought back to the photos. Some before the last one had Nick in it. If it was Nick, then why would he freak out at that one? Unless it wasn’t about Nick.

  Luke?

  Why would he freak out about Luke?

  I let my thoughts run wild as I paced the corner. I couldn’t figure this out; it was like a mystery without any hints or any clues that I must find out on my own. And it was all real, and it was all happening to me.

  My phone vibrating in my pocket distracted me.

  From: Noelle

  Hey! you’re still coming over, right?

  I had completely forgotten about our plans until she texted me. I was never like this; I always remembered if I had plans with Noelle before. I guess it was because I had nothing else to do. Now it’s like my head can’t take any more memory.

  To: Noelle

  Yeah, I’ll head on over now.

  She sent a smiley face in response, so I made my way over to her house. She lives by Marie, so I knew the way. The next neighborhood, actually. It wasn’t as rich as Marie’s place, but it was still nice. Noelle’s house was always clean, not a dirty spot in sight.

  I knocked on the door before it even opened; I sensed something was off. On the other side, Noelle stood in yoga pants and a tank top. Her hair was frizzy and all over the place. It looked like she had just woken up. She rubbed her eyes and smiled at me.

  “Hey,” I said, stepping into her house. She trailed off into the kitchen, me following her.

  “Hi,” she replied, grabbing a box of cereal. “Do you want any?”

  “No thanks,” I responded. “What’s with the pajama look today?”

  I knew I shouldn’t have said that. I knew it before it came out of my mouth, but I said it. It was out in the air, hanging there, waiting for her response.

  She looked up at me and giggled. “Trying something new. I don’t have anyone to impress right now, so thought I would dress down. You like?”

  Okay, that was so not Noelle.

  “Uhh…” I started, making my way toward her. The tank top had a yellow stain on it across the stomach area. The yoga pants had about three holes in the front. Something was wrong.

  “I love it.”

  Her face dropped. Her eyes that were previously lit with freedom, turned to a darker tone. Her grin fell into a frown, and she threw her cereal box to the side.

  “Don’t be nice to me, not today,” she muttered, stomping away from me. I heard her slippers slide into the living room. I trailed after, confused as hell as to what just happened. I found Noelle sitting on her couch, her knees in her face. I went to sit down next to her but noticed a bunch of crumbs on the cushion. I started to pick them off and placed them in my palm to throw out.

  “No!” she yelled, pushing her knees away from her face and grabbing my wrist. “Don’t start helping me clean!”

  “I just wanted to sit there,” I muttered. I placed the last bit of crumbs in my hands and threw them out in the bathroom. I heard her groan and stuff her face into a pillow. “What is going on with you?”

  I sat next to her and waited for her response. She slowly sat up, holding the pillow in her arms. “I wanted t
o see if you would tell me the truth about how I look.”

  What?

  “Nick always told me the truth.”

  I nodded. “Well, he was your boyfriend.”

  “But that’s the thing!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. She turned and stared into my eyes. “I didn’t want a boyfriend that told me the truth.”

  She must’ve seen the confused look on my face because she kept talking.

  “I want a boyfriend who tells me the truth, but not in certain situations. Like my appearance, I want a boyfriend that will always tell me I look good. Even when I don’t. Or won’t judge me when I get into a slump. I want a boyfriend like y—”

  She suddenly stopped talking and covered her face with the pillow. I took the pillow away and threw it on the ottoman. She stared at the ground, and her face turned red, along with the tips of her ears. I watched as her nose twitched like a rabbit.

  “Like what, Noelle?” I asked.

  Please.

  After a few minutes of silence, I sighed and stared at the floor with her. Dark oak covered with a lavender rug. I tried to remember if it was the same as last time. Mrs. Seong-Hun liked to redecorate often. She doesn’t have a job or many things to do, so she takes on new projects all the time. She even built me a skateboard once. It broke after one trip to the skate park, but I didn’t need to tell her that.

  My thoughts halted when I heard sobs next to me. I looked at Noelle, and tears were streaming down her face. Even when she was crying, she still looked perfect. Like a porcelain doll. I leaned in closer to comfort her, which made her cry even more. I moved back out of fear that I was the one doing this to her.

  “No—” She spoke softly. “—it’s not you.” She grabbed a tissue from the coffee table and wiped her face. “I just feel so guilty.”

  “About what?” I asked, leaning back in. Watching her cry was the hardest thing I had to do. I hate seeing girls cry, especially Noelle.