Get Out If You Can

Matt | Pieces Of The Puzzle

Alison yells.

She throws herself at the computer. The shock – the absolute shock that comes with her behavior immobilizes all of us. She's yelling at the top of her voice, and I think I see stray tears glisten as they travel down her cheeks.

"GET AWAY!"

I lunge forward. I mean, like, if she murdered Caitlyn, and this is proof, then she shouldn't be hiding it. I try my best to pull her back, my hand not leaving the sleeve of her right arm – but she's too good for me. She sure did build on that arm strength.

"I SAID, GET THE FUCK AWAY!" She draws a hand back and aims at the screen. If Diego hadn't been there to stop here, bits of shattered glass would have blinded all of us by now. I'm not exaggerating when I say she's got some mad arm strength.

"WHAT ARE YOU ONTO?" Diego yells, trying and failing to get her off the screen. Emilie's mumbling something that sounds like a cross between 'I don't believe this' and a prayer, and Hunter's just standing in the background, mouth agape, eyes fixated on the screen.

I figure that when your muscles don't work you might as well use your mind.

"Alison," I say, trying to keep my tone civil. "Alison, look. If you did something to her –"

"I DID NOT DO ANYTHING! GET-THE-FUCK-" she yells, and the way she does it makes me want to believe her. But if she didn't, then why is she so affected by what's on the screen?

Well, I'll probably have to find out, then. I say a short prayer, so that if there's a God, He forgives me — and I aim my leg at Alison's injured ankle.

Blood spatters out, staining her skin a deep crimson. She falls to the floor, screaming — but on a lighter note, out of the way. I can now see the computer screen.

The picture on the screen is clear to my eyes — and I don't believe it in the slightest.

***

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"

"Stop yelling," Diego says, crouching down next to Alison. Emilie's crying, Hunter looks like he's gonna start any moment now, and I – I'm just shocked.

She did not murder Caitlyn Tejada – at least, I can't be sure of it. The picture doesn't have anything to do with Caitlyn's murder – but it has a lot to do with Alison. The Alison in the picture is not the Alison I thought I knew. She's different. The Alison in the picture was — strangely different. What she was doing was the last thing I'd thought she would do.

Diego pulls at the torn part of his shirt, tears a strip of wide, white cloth, and uses it to wipe away the blood. So he remembers Alison's rule, then.

Alison continues screaming. Whether she's doing it because she's hurt emotionally, physically, or both, I have no clue. She's just helped me realize that she isn't perfect – and nobody truly is.

My eyes finally leave the computer screen. The picture's still in my head, and I'm sure it'll stay there forever – because it isn't common to see a crying Alison Carter at the edge of a building's roof, is it?

***

"I'm – I'm sorry for causing that," Alison whispers, nursing her bloodied ankle. I feel like someone pierced an arrow through me.

"You – you –" she stammers, pointing at me, and I wince.

"I'm sorry," I say, "I thought you did something – something –"

I can't say 'something worse', because planning to take your own life is as horrible as planning to take someone else's.

"Don't be sorry," she says. "Look, I – I, um, was – you weren't – you weren't supposed to see that."