Don't Let Me Die: A gripping psychological thriller

by Alex Sinclair

  I edge up to the corner of our house and half close my eyes, not wanting to run into some stalker who has been waiting to lure us into his trap.

  As I round the bend, a figure emerges and crashes right into me. I fall back as two strong arms grasp me with extreme efficiency.

  “I told you to stay in the truck,” Darren says as his face reaches the light of the front driveway.

  “You vanished down the side. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Darren lets out an audible sigh as he looks away, releasing me from his grip. “Sorry,” he says.

  “Did you find anything?”

  He shakes his head. “Bessie got the gate open. The police mustn’t have closed it properly. Nothing to worry about.”

  I want to slap myself in the face for not locking the gate after they left. Everything happened so fast, I didn’t have time to think clearly.

  “I should have checked it. I’m sorry,” I say, deflated.

  “It’s fine. Let’s just head inside, have some dinner, and go to bed. It’s been a long damn week.”

  I find myself falling into Darren’s arms at the suggestion. “That sounds like the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

  Twenty-Three

  That night, I don’t sleep. The photo, the emails, and the sight of Bessie sitting at the front of our house keeps me wide awake. No amount of reading or trying to focus on my breathing seems to be able to pull my mind away from everything. After half the night disappears with me staring into the darkness till my eyes begin to ache, I give up and head for the medicine cabinet in our bathroom.

  Once inside, I ignore the various surfaces in desperate need of a clean and open the mirrored cabinet. I fish around and find a bottle of Diazepam that I keep in case of nights like this. I take two small, 0.5mg tablets with a mouthful of water and swallow them down. In about fifteen minutes, I’ll feel a warm calm wash over me like I don’t have a care in the world. Before long, sleep will claim me.

  I head back to bed and feel the effects of the magic tablets starting to kick in. It took everything I had to not take three or four pills at once. I understand the risks of getting hooked on this stuff, but during a time like this, a fistful wasn’t enough of a dosage.

  Morning comes. I don’t remember falling asleep and find myself almost shocked to see the time on my bedside clock: ten a.m.

  “What the heck?” I let out. I can’t remember the last time I’d slept past seven in the morning, let alone ten. I spin around and realize Darren is nowhere to be found. I almost panic at the sight of his empty side of the bed but try my best to find reason instead of freaking out.

  I throw on a dressing gown and head downstairs. I spot Frank in the living room, playing video games. I’m only slightly surprised to see Darren reading the paper at the kitchen counter while his grounded son enjoys himself in the background.

  “Morning, sleepyhead,” Darren says.

  Frank half turns from his game and says hello to me as well.

  I head straight over to Darren with a twisted brow. “I thought he was grounded. That usually means no video games as well.”

  “I know,” Darren says as he places the newspaper down. “I thought he could use a break after last night.”

  I smile at my husband and run my hand over his bicep. “You’re such a softy,” I joke. “Can I make you some breakfast?”

  “Already taken care of, honey,” he says as he gestures toward the bacon and eggs sitting on the kitchen counter. “I was about to come wake you up with it.”

  I lean down and kiss him on the forehead. “Thank you, baby,” I say. I can’t remember the last time I called him that. I feel young again for a few seconds, until the smell of the food draws me in.

  I realize how much of an appetite I have when I finish the breakfast in about three minutes.

  “Someone was hungry.”

  “I didn’t end up eating anything last night. I couldn’t wrap my head around the thought of food with everything that’s been going on.”

  Darren nods away. “I understand. Concentrating at the moment is hard. Speaking of everything that’s been going on, can you show me the emails? I think we need to take them to the police as soon as possible.”

  I nod. “I’ll grab the USB.” I head over to where I left my handbag and fish out the stick. I load up the emails on a laptop we mostly use to pay bills and shop online. I spin the light device to Darren and show him the messages.

  He reads through each one slowly, as if he can recognize who wrote them if he is careful enough.

  “Mean anything to you?” I ask him.

  “Not really. Just similar junk to what I’ve had sent to my phone. Still, we should take everything in this morning and have the police add it to the file. It’ll show the cops how serious we are. Maybe they can run some security checks on these accounts and trace down where they came from.”

  “I doubt they’ll find much. There’s a new email account associated with every message. It takes three seconds to make one these days.”

  Darren’s mouth turns down in a frustrated grimace. “Why do we need this fancy technology? It just makes things easier for these assholes.”

  “I know,” I let out. I think about the kinds of problems Frank’s generation will have because of the constant flow of new technology.

  We sit in silence for a minute, each lost in our thoughts. Darren speaks first.

  “Take a shower and get dressed. We’ll head out straight after and go to the police station. We’ll drop Frank off at Douglas’s and meet him at the game later today. I’m sure his parents won’t mind.”

  I agree without saying another word and thank Darren again for the food. He is so amazing this morning, I can hardly believe it. I never get breakfast made for me unless it’s a special occasion. I silently wish it didn’t take this kind of situation for me to receive some attention in this house.

  I enjoy a long shower and dress for the day in some casual wear. My hair takes the normal time to dry and organize. Darren bugs me a few times during the process, as per usual, asking when I’ll be ready. I give him my usual line of “soon.”

  Once I’m satisfied with my appearance, I head downstairs and see Frank and Darren eager to go. Frank has a full gym bag and is wearing his basketball gear for a game his team has lined up at the middle school. I realize he has also packed some overnight clothing. I give Darren a quick look.

  “I thought he could stay the night at a friend’s house and be away from here, you know?”

  “Okay,” I say as I cross my arms. “I guess this grounding you laid down is on hold, then.”

  “For now,” Darren says with a sideways glance at Frank. “When this stuff with Victor calms down, we’ll think of a suitable punishment to give him.”

  “I’m right here, by the way.”

  “Don’t push your luck, son,” Darren says with a chuckle. “Think of this as an opportunity to do the right thing and not give us anything else to worry about.”

  Frank nods. There’s nothing he can say without risking his freedom.

  “Anyway,” Darren says, turning to me, “it’s time you and I also got out of here and had a night off from this crap. I thought we could go to the movies. I can’t remember the last time we did that.”

  I’m almost speechless as my mouth drops open. “Yes, please,” I say, sounding desperate. With the business, Frank going to middle school, and me working full-time, Darren and I rarely have time off alone together anymore. We feel more like roommates than husband and wife.

  “I can’t wait,” I whisper to Darren as we head out the door.

  “I heard that,” Frank says without looking back.

  For the first time this week, I don’t think about the problem our family is facing with Victor. It’s the best feeling, short of a handful of Diazepam.

  Twenty-Four

  After.

  “That was the last time I ever felt that way,” I say.

  “What way?” Doctor Shaw asks.
>
  “You know, happy. Ever since that moment, I’m lucky if I can feel half as good as I did that morning.”

  Shaw studies me with thick worry lines over her brows. “Do you believe you will ever be happy again?”

  I stare at the floor and wonder the same thing. It doesn’t seem possible given my current standing. I don’t speak and let the silence give her an answer. She writes something down about my lack of a response, as if she can interpret my every thought.

  “We’ll pick this up again tomorrow,” Shaw says. “In the meantime, I want you to focus on one thing for me.”

  I shrug. “What?”

  “The thought that you will be happy again. I understand the concept might appear impossible after what happened to you and your family, but one day, you will find happiness.”

  I don’t respond. Instead, I focus on not telling Shaw where to shove her homework assignment. I know I’ll never be happy again. If there’s one thing I’ve come to understand and accept in this mess, it’s that my life will never be the same. My good years are behind me, ticked off as completed by the stroke of a doctor’s pen. I will never find happiness again in this life after what happened, nor should I.

  Shaw dumps me back into my ward. The hour of peace away from the wailing and moaning isn’t lost on me. I’d pay a small fortune for a decent pair of noise-canceling headphones to drown out the madness.

  The thought reminds me of my current supply issue to secure more Diazepam from Andrea. Despite my desire to punch her in the face, she’s my only source of the pills I need to sleep. And after being awake now for over thirty hours, I realize I will drop the remaining six tablets tonight without a single pang of regret.

  I head back to my room and ensure the sleeve is still in the mattress. Thankfully, the staff here are not thorough enough to check such an obvious hiding place. It makes me wonder what else I could stuff in there.

  I leave my room and head for the day area, where we are supposed to be when the sun is out. I find a seat in a corner no one has taken yet and try to block out the noise of the dozen or so nutjobs filtering in and out of the room. I never see everyone in the one spot at the same time. It’s as if the orderlies can’t stand the thought of our collective annoyance. I don’t blame them.

  I think back to the yoga training I once enjoyed and try to meditate. Tom blabbers away in the background, being an asshole to one of the patients. I block out his voice and the feeling of his hand on my body as best I can, but there is only so much my limited knowledge of meditation can achieve.

  “Well, well, well,” Tom says as he steps up to me. “Never figured you for one of these spiritual clowns.”

  I open my eyes and stare up at him from my seat. He doesn’t wait for me to bite back.

  “Given my proposal some thought?” he whispers as he squats down to my level. “Because, darlin’, I can make your time here much easier.” His hand, hidden by his body from any other members of the staff, runs over my leg. I shy away the second his fingers touch me. I can’t help the reflex.

  “No need to be like that,” he says as he stands straight with his sly grin. “Because I can also make things far worse for you.” His smile turns into a sneer. He gives me a wink and walks away, checking over his shoulder as he moves to his next victim.

  I let the shudder that’s been dying to come out of me run down my spine. “Pig,” I mutter. I shake my head and continue to say things quiet enough that no one else will hear me. I stop after a short moment and realize I’ve become one of them, one of the crazy people who spend their days talking to themselves in the corner.

  I push away the image of Tom touching me for the second time that day and try to get back to my meditation. I know it’s a waste of time, but I have plenty of it to kill.

  A few hours pass. In that time, I eat lunch, take my prescribed medication, argue with a patient about the government, and find out my brother will be in soon for another visit. He seems to be dropping in once a day. As much as I value his time, I don’t know if I can take more news on the Karlo front.

  I wait in the visitors’ room and try not to think about Karlo. The cousin of Victor who was so hell-bent on destroying our lives over an accident doesn’t seem real to me anymore. I wonder what I’d do to him if I ever located him out there. Not that I’d ever find him. He’d be long gone and possibly out of the country by now. Before that night, the cops had him listed as the prime suspect behind our family’s harassment. I try to understand what finally drove him over the edge to do what he did.

  A haze of memories cloud together and stab back at me. I snap to the present and realize my face is stained with tears. Even though I can’t remember the event, it’s there, waiting for me to remove the wool from my eyes and face the choice I made.

  Tom’s smug face interrupts my haunting thoughts as he leans down in front of me, hands placed firmly on the table.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Oh, nothing. Just thought you should know that your brother is here. I suggest you keep the conversation light. Nothing too dramatic. We don’t want any trouble coming our way, do we?”

  I catch Tom’s less-than-subtle suggestion and nod. “I won’t say anything. I promise.” I have no idea if I can indeed keep quiet, but part of me knows I can’t get James involved without making things worse for myself.

  “Good girl,” Tom says.

  I ignore his attempt to shape me into his pet and smile as best I can. I’m not convincing anyone with my bullshit grin, least of all Tom. He leaves as James enters the room, moving to his next task.

  I focus on my brother’s sparkling demeanor. He appears to be chirpier than before. I almost want to smack the smile off his face but realize I should be pleased for him and feel a slight flush of shame for the thought.

  “Hey, Emma,” he says as he bends down to give me a quick hug. I lightly squeeze him back, still not comfortable touching another human being. Tom’s advances have only made me more sensitive than before.

  “How are you today?” he asks.

  I almost want to yell out that I just saw him yesterday, but I don’t. All I do now is try to keep others happy at the cost of my mental state.

  “I’m okay. You?” I say after a delay.

  “I’m fine. Better than fine, actually.” He bends in close and shifts his head slightly left and right as if someone might be watching. “We found him.”

  “Who?” I ask.

  James half leans back from me with one raised brow. “Karlo,” he whispers.

  “You’re kidding me?” I blurt louder than I should.

  I see James give me a look that tells me to keep it down and listen. He leans in again, gesturing for me to do the same. “My guy located the prick across state lines. The moron hasn’t gone that far. It’s unbelievable.”

  I can feel my eyebrows raised high. “I thought he’d be out of the country by now.”

  “That’s what I was warned would happen, but we found him. He’s holed up in a cheap motel, hiding out. My guy is watching his every move.”

  I sit there and think about some private eye alone in a car with a pair of binoculars, empty coffee cups spread over the dash as he stalks Karlo the way the bastard stalked our family. It almost brings a full smile to my face.

  “So, what happens now?” I ask.

  James smiles at me the way he only ever does when he is about to tell me something major.

  “We take you to him and confront the asshole.”

  Twenty-Five

  I stare at James as if he has just asked me for a kidney. “What?”

  “You heard me. We take you to Karlo so you can confront him for what he did.”

  I shake my head as my gaze darts away. My mouth is half-open and my brows twist in tight.

  “Emma,” James says to regain my attention. “Listen to me. You can do this. I can take you out of here this weekend into my care. I looked into this. As long as your doctors agree, you can come with me. We can face Karlo together and make him confes
s to everything.”

  “I don’t . . . ” I trail off as my eyes close on their own. A migraine is coming. This is all too much for me to face, and James can’t see that. My eyes pop open as I search the room for Doctor Shaw, as if she can read my thoughts and sense the situation I’m in.

  “Take your time. This is a lot to take in, I realize. If you’re not up to the idea, it’s fine. My guy will sit on Karlo for as long as I tell him to.”

  My head starts to spin. I can sense the beast behind me, begging me to fail with its eyes. I push the dark thoughts back and slam the table with my fist, startling the room and James.

  “No,” I whisper, trying to keep quiet. “I am up to this. I want justice for what he did. I won’t let Karlo slip away again. I can’t.”

  James nods with both eyes narrowed in on me. “Glad to hear it. I’ll make the arrangements and pick you up Saturday morning. In the meantime, I want you to spend every day until then preparing yourself for this. It’s not going to be easy.”

  I nod back as I think about the rest of the week ahead of me before James picks me up. All I will be focused on is seeing Karlo. I imagine him squirming under pressure and caving in. The truth will pour out of his mouth like a running tap. We’ll record it all on tape and call the cops. I’ll finally feel safe again and, who knows, maybe even find the courage to leave this place once the doctors clear me.

  I stare back at James. I can see how satisfied he is to be the one to help me for a change. It almost suits him, as if this kind of thing comes naturally.

  I lean forward and touch the table in front of him. “Thank you,” I say. “Thank you for not giving up on me or our relationship.”

  “I never did, Emma. I know it might seem like I had, but deep down, I’ve always wanted to be there for you instead of being a burden in your life.”

  “You were never a burden, James. You were lost, just like I am now.”