Delusions

by Amy Crandall

  “Abigale?” Mike was casually leaning on the locker beside hers with a finger through the belt loop of his jeans.

  Abigale slammed her own locker door shut. “What?”

  Mike sighed, disappointment washing over his face. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting weird all day.”

  Abigale looked onward to the sea of students, recoiling when she saw Bethany walking past. Her blonde hair was done up in a ponytail and she wore no makeup. Her outfit didn’t match like it usually did and appeared as if it had been thrown together last minute. This was very unlike Bethany, and it made Abigale’s heart ache. She felt responsible, and in a way, she was. When Bethany caught her gaze, her eyes passed from Abigale to Mike. She didn’t glare like she had the day before. She slumped her shoulders, dropped her gaze to the floor, and kept walking.

  When Abigale looked back to Mike, he was watching his former girlfriend disappear behind a crowd of students. “This is about Bethany, isn’t it?”

  Abigale cast her eyes to the floor. “I’m sure you heard about what happened in the cafeteria yesterday.”

  Mike winced. “Yeah, I did hear about it. Are you okay? I heard she shoved you pretty hard.”

  As touched as Abigale was by Mike’s concern, she ignored his comment altogether. “She mentioned you broke up with her because you were falling for someone else. Apparently, she thinks that I’m the one you were hinting at.”

  He ran a hand through his tousled blond hair. “That depends on how you feel about it.”

  Abigale’s heart skipped a beat. So he was interested in her. She was to blame for their breakup. She immediately felt sick inside. Shaking her head, she took a step back from him. “What?”

  Mike pushed himself off the locker, taking a step closer to Abigale, who was ready to vomit all over his sneakers. “Abigale, I do like you, but you’re not the main reason Bethany and I broke up. Sure, you are part of the reason, but you’re not the whole reason.”

  “What was the other reason?” She was teetering on the verge of a breakdown. Abigale was already dealing with the growing pile of homework and the possibility of someone out to harm her in some way, and this was not helping.

  “I’d rather not talk about it,” he muttered. “It was a few things. I was just done with the relationship.”

  Abigale nodded slowly. “I—I have to go.”

  “Wait, Abigale!” He gripped her arm. “Did I scare you? Should I step back for now?”

  Abigale shook her head. “I don’t know, Mike. Just…just let me think about this for a bit.”

  Not waiting for a reply, she turned away and left for her next class. Mike was still standing by her locker when she rounded the corner.

  ***

  Abigale didn’t waste any time getting out of the school when the last bell blared over the intercom. She raced to her locker, hurriedly gathered her things, and tried to leave before anyone could engage in a conversation with her. She didn’t want to have to interact with anyone, especially Mike. She needed to think about the situation, and she knew that speaking with him anymore that day wasn’t going to help matters. Instead of bumping into Mike, however, she bumped into her English teacher.

  “Abigale!” Ms. Hannah beamed. “I was hoping I’d run into you before class tomorrow. I was just wondering if you’ve come to a decision about the contest.”

  The essay! She had completely forgotten about the contest with everything else going on. “I’m afraid I’ve been preoccupied with the move and everything…It’s a great opportunity and all, but I think it would be best to continue catching up on schoolwork before I decide to do any extracurricular activities.”

  “Of course,” Ms. Hannah said, seeming deflated at the news. “Before you give me a definite answer though, you should read through this.”

  She gave Abigale a sheet of paper from the small stack she was holding. “Take a look and let me know by Friday if you’d like to sign up. If I haven’t heard from you, then I’ll assume that you aren’t entering.”

  Abigale nodded. “Okay. Thank you, Ms. Hannah.”

  “You’re welcome, Abigale. I hope you decide to enter.”

  After bidding farewell, Abigale walked past Ms. Hannah and exited through the front doors of the school. Once outside, she crumpled the paper in her hand and tossed it into the trash bin. She had enough to worry about without entering an essay contest.

  She peered up at the gloomy sky. She had to get home before it started to rain, and at this thought, quickened her pace. At the rate she was going, she’d be home by quarter after three, but she wasn’t sure if it would be enough to make it before the rain descended.

  Abigale felt the first raindrop on the tip of her nose only five minutes from her house. She increased her steady pace to a jog. Her black curls whipped around her face as the wind picked up. According to the websites Abigale checked when she moved there, it rained a hundred and twenty days of the year in Arcata. She figured she’d better get used to the precipitation.

  When she reached the driveway of her home, the rain was pelting down. Abigale’s clothes stuck to her body like glue. Her teeth chattering, she bolted up the driveway to the front steps of the house. While she fumbled for the keys in her backpack, she heard her name being called from somewhere behind her. Turning, she spotted a boy she hadn’t thought about in a few weeks.

  “Damien?”

  He smirked at her. “Nice weather we’re having, huh?” he called from the yard of his house.

  She laughed. “Does this happen a lot?”

  Damien walked toward her. His t-shirt was plastered against his chest, revealing the muscles underneath. Biting down on her lip, Abigale wondered how long he’d been standing there before she arrived.

  “I’m afraid so, Abby,” he said with a crooked grin. He stood only about ten feet from her. She felt a little uneasy being so close to him but shook off her worries. He was her neighbor, not a serial killer.

  She caught herself staring at his chest, and a blush spread across her cheeks. Nervously, she tucked some of her damp hair behind her ear. “That’s a shame. You look a little cold. How long have you been out here?”

  Damien shrugged, his smile widening at her concern. “About as long as you have, by the looks of it.”

  With a pointed look to her clothes, Abigale blushed harder. Her loose top clung to her torso, which showed all her flaws, and she probably appeared deranged with her sopping wet hair.

  “Yeah,” she laughed nervously. “I had to walk home, so…”

  He nodded. “I thought so. Do you walk home every day?”

  “Yes,” she replied, jangling the house keys between her fingers. “Mom doesn’t get off work until four-thirty.”

  Damien hooked a thumb around a belt loop of his jeans. “Would you like some company until she gets back?”

  Abigale thought back to the intruder that had entered her home a couple weeks earlier, as well as the mysterious messages. On the other hand, she didn’t know Damien very well. Even though he seemed nice, she wasn’t sure if she could trust him. After a couple more seconds of quiet deliberation, she answered, “That would be great.”

  Opening the door to let her soaked neighbor inside, Abigale quietly prayed she wasn’t making a mistake.

  THE INTERROGATION

  PART FOUR

  June 26, 2015, 12:04 A.M.

  Case No. 20150625-04

  Numbing shock took hold of Abigale when she processed what Agent Ross had told her. Her mother…gone. Just like that.

  The numbness spread from her fingertips down to her toes, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. The men standing around the interrogation room looked over her with pity. This was when she recognized that they knew all along, they just hadn’t told her.

  “Was she…gone when I last saw her?” Abigale could barely choke out the words.

  Agent Ross nodded, a grimace evident on his features. “She died instantly, Abigale. The bullet pierced her brain. I thought you would’ve noticed by then t
hat she was…gone.”

  Her lower lip quivering, she pictured the dark room, the motionless heap on the floor, and the sticky substance covering her hands. She felt sick to her stomach.

  Her mother was dead before she even comprehended.

  “Abigale?” Agent Ross’ voice took on a warning tone. That was when she realized she had dug her fingers so hard into the wooden table that she’d chipped every fingernail. Her grip faltered when she saw the blood beginning to leak from her wounded nails. She barely noticed the pain.

  “Collins,” Agent Ross said sharply, “go get the first-aid kit, please.”

  Collins hastily left the room, closing the door behind him. Abigale’s gaze drifted back to Agent Ross, who stared at her with a calculated expression. They locked eyes, each challenging the other to speak first.

  Surprisingly, it was Abigale who spoke next. “Where’s my dad? Have you found him yet?”

  Agent Ross shook his head. “We’re still looking. I’ll let you know when we do, Abigale.”

  Abigale scowled. “Like you told me about my mom?”

  The agent looked over to Detective Collins, who re-entered the room with bandages, antiseptic wipes, and nail clippers. Abigale dropped her gaze to her hands, her eyes widening at the small drops of blood against the grains of the wood. She winced when she looked at the damage done to her nails.

  “Thank you, Detective,” she said in a small voice when he passed her the supplies. Trying to salvage what she could with the clippers, Abigale could feel everyone’s eyes on her. She focused on clipping, trying not to think about her mother. Her poor mother…dead because of her. Because of her reluctance to go to the police in the first place.

  “I know you just heard some devastating news,” Ross began, “but I need to ask you about the Facebook messages between you and the suspect.”

  Collins looked shocked. “Agent Ross, the girl just found out she lost her mother. Can’t you let her have ten minutes of peace before we grill her?”

  Abigale silently agreed with the detective.

  Agent Ross directed a warning look at Collins. “This is a federal investigation now, Collins. You don’t have a say in it.”

  The unremorseful agent lifted a sheet of paper from the file he’d slapped on the desk when entering the room and slid it across the table.

  Abigale peered up at him. “What’s this?”

  “These are the messages exchanged between you and the perpetrator. Would you like to explain what each of them means?” Agent Ross questioned, nodding to the paper.

  Abigale scanned the contents, panicking internally. Where had he gotten these? She thought she had deleted every message.

  “Abigale?”

  She passed the paper back to him with a shrug, attempting to appear innocent. “I don’t know what these are.”

  Agent Ross’ eyes narrowed. “These were retrieved from the server, Abigale. They were traced back to your laptop’s IP address, to your Facebook account. Are you telling me you didn’t write these messages?”

  Abigale paused, eyeing the detective nervously. She was worried he could see right through her lies. “No, I’ve never seen these messages in my life.”

  “So you’re telling me,” Ross said, leaning closer to her, “that you didn’t write these messages?”

  Her hands trembling underneath the desk, she shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”

  The agent scanned her once more before leaning back in the chair. “You do realize, Abigale, that you could be charged with obstruction of a federal investigation if I find out you’re lying, right?”

  Abigale swallowed down the growing lump in her throat. “I’m not lying, Agent Ross.”

  “So this DarkHeart434…you’ve never sent a message to them? Do you know who they are?”

  Still shaking, Abigale looked the agent straight in the eye. “No, I’ve never sent a message to them. In fact, I’ve never heard of them in my life. All I know is that my mother is dead, and my father is missing. My mother is dead, and you’re questioning me about some stupid messages you recovered from my laptop!”

  Agent Ross’ lips pressed into a thin line. “It says in one of the messages sent from your account that you knew who they were and that you were going to physically harm them the next time you saw them. A day after this message, someone you know well turns up dead. Now, I don’t believe this is a coincidence, Abigale, because no other messages from the account titled DarkHeart434 were ever recovered after that. Would you like to explain this to me? Or am I going to have to place you under arrest?”

  Abigale’s heart leapt in her chest. Arrest? “Arrest me for what, Agent?”

  Agent Ross leaned closer once more, so close that Abigale could smell the sharp tang of his spearmint gum. “For the murder of Julia Holland, of course.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Damien wasn’t the person that Abigale figured him to be. She realized this as they sat across from each other on the worn couch in the living room. After exchanging pleasantries, it didn’t take very long for Damien to open up to Abigale, and for her to open up to him. She found herself blurting out everything that had gone on over the past month, from the sudden move to her issues with Bethany. She did, however, omit the part about Mike and his constant shadowing. Abigale knew it would only be uncomfortable for both of them.

  “So,” Abigale said after taking a sip of her warm tea, “why aren’t you at school? I thought you were working on your psychology degree?”

  Damien scratched the back of his head. “I kind of just said that to impress your mother. I’m waiting until the fall to apply for the degree, so for now, I’m stuck at home looking after my uncle. He needed help getting around, and since my aunt died, I became the lucky candidate. He’s stuck in a wheelchair, has been for ten years.”

  “Oh? What happened?”

  Damien shrugged. “From what I can understand, he was run over by a buddy of his. He’s never talked about the accident. Nobody has.”

  Abigale frowned. “I’m sorry he has to deal with that. It must have been pretty hard.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Damien replied, taking a sip from his cup. “I wasn’t around when it happened. My mom and him, they never really talked.”

  “Oh.”

  “Anyway,” he said, abruptly changing the subject, “how are you finding the high school? Besides the girl drama, of course.”

  “It’s okay I guess. Still trying to catch up on school work.”

  Damien nodded. “That’s to be expected. I—”

  The loud ringing noise coming from Abigale’s pocket interrupted him. She smiled apologetically, standing from the couch and digging her phone out from the pocket of her sweater. “Sorry, it’s Mom.”

  She put the phone up to her ear. “Hi, Mom!”

  “Abigale! How are you? Are you at home yet?”

  “Yeah, I’m at home. I’m visiting with Damien,” Abigale said, flashing a look at him. “Are you almost home?”

  “That’s what I called about. I was invited out for a drink by some of my co-workers, so I won’t be home until late. How is Damien, by the way? You two can order something for supper. I’ll pay you back.”

  Abigale locked eyes with Damien again. His dark blue eyes seemed to glue her to the spot, and she found it hard to look away. “Would you like me to order something?” she asked him. “Mom’s paying.”

  He nodded, his striking eyes giving her a once-over. “Sure.”

  Grinning, Abigale said, “That’d be great, Mom. Have fun tonight!” After hanging up the phone, Abigale asked, “Is pizza okay?”

  ***

  Right after she hung up with the pizza parlor down the street, she received a text from Tiffany. Damien looked at her curiously when she pocketed her phone, not bothering to glance at the message.

  “Are you going to check that?” he asked.

  “Um, yeah.”

  Abigale pulled out her phone and opened the message, feeling Damien’s gaze on her.

  T
iffany: Hey, Abby. Can you call me when you get this message? We haven’t talked for a while and I’m getting worried. Did you get any other creepy notes?

  Abigale bit her lip, thinking of how to reply. With Damien here, she didn’t feel comfortable speaking with her friend about what had been going on with the notes, so she sent back a hasty text.

  Abigale: Can’t talk right now. I’ll call you later.

  She pocketed her phone and turned back to Damien, who was still regarding her curiously.

  “Who was that?”

  She shrugged. “Just a friend. I’ll talk to her later.”

  Damien narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Okay.”

  Silence enveloped them. Abigale took an interest in the fabric of her sweatshirt so she didn’t have to look at him. His piercing eyes seemed to cut right through her thoughts. She figured he’d be able to unearth her deepest secrets if she looked for too long.

  The spell broke when the doorbell rang, and Damien stood. “I’ll get it.”

  Abigale flashed him a smile. “Thanks.”

  He walked to the other room, where the insistent knocks on the door grew more rapid. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, but Damien was returning with the pizza.

  “One ham-and-cheese pizza with extra cheese,” Damien laughed. “You continue to surprise me, Abigale Fern.”

  “It’s really good. You’ll see.”

  After Abigale grabbed two plates from the kitchen along with two cans of Coca-Cola, the pair kicked their feet up and ate their meal in silence. Rain still pattered against the windows and roof, giving off a calming sound that relaxed Abigale’s mind. She was completely comfortable, at ease. That was something she hadn’t felt in a long time. She was surprised she was having this calm moment with Damien right beside her. For some reason he made her feel safe, like nobody could threaten her while he was around. She craved that feeling.