Dahlia - The Velvet Witch and Her Dark Spirit

PART 22 - XANAX

I rush through the building doors onto the pavement. I wrap myself around her like I've done so many times before. But this time is different. She's still without a breath and quiet without a soul.

The ambulance arrives moments later, then the police. I'm latched on to her so tight the paramedics have to pry me off. I'm no longer in my body but floating above it—gawking like the poor folk on the street that has had this misery dropped in their laps.

An officer wraps me in a blanket and tries to move me away from the scene. I shake my head until Dahlia disappears into the ambulance. I can see her face through a section of the open body bag. She looks sad and confused. In fact, she doesn't look dead at all. She's alive. And staring at me. I flick the blanket off my shoulders and run to her.

"She's alive, see, see," I say as I yank the zip down. "See."

But she doesn't move even when I put my hands on her face and my lips on hers. The same officer gently pulls me back and whispers into my ear, "She's gone, sir." Once the ambulance pulls away, she asks me to come to the station to make a statement. I do and manage to tell them the entire story.

"We should bring in the detectives from the strangulation case," one of the officers suggests to the other.

An hour later, the two detectives that interviewed Ruben walk into the room. They recognise me, pass on their condolences then sit between the original two officers.

"Levi, we've been informed you're working under the assumption that your deceased girlfriend, Dahlia Devon, is the prime suspect in the attack on Magnolia Whyte. I know this news is too late, but we cleared her of any wrongdoing earlier today. A review of the footage showed the perpetrator was a male."

"You what?"

His partner chimes in, "We hope this wasn't a factor in Dahlia's suicide, and if it was, we would like to—"

"Hang on," I say. "It wasn't a suicide. She jumped because her head was fucked on horse tranquilisers, and God knows what other shit the Doctor gave her. She was trying to fly away, not kill herself."

"Sir," says the first officer. "The law still considers this a suicide as her actions resulted in the ending of her life."

"But she was fucking poisoned," I blast as my head fills with crying.

I clam up, so I don't break down in front of a room full of people.

"Sir, we'll investigate that once the coroner has completed his report. We need to see what toxicology says first."

The female officer from earlier drives me home.

"Are you going to be OK alone?" she asks as I unbuckle my seatbelt. "The pain will get worse before it gets better. We find people do best when they have plenty of shoulders to cry on. Family, friends. I could call them for you, Levi?"

"I don't have any family," I say, only half concentrating on her spiel.

"Well, your friends then? They can be just as supportive."

Ruben, my only friend. No. If I saw a hint of happiness in his eyes, I'd likely kill him.

"No, thank you. I'll call them when I'm ready," I say quietly.

"OK, well, you take care of yourself, Levi. And call if you need anything."

She writes down her number on the back of her card and smiles before leaving.

Reality sets in slowly. She's gone for good, never to return. Fucking innocent too. My bubby, my sweet Magickal girl. Fucked with and meddled with. Poisoned. Bent and broken. Tasered. Ridiculed. On the run. A criminal until the end. I didn't believe her either. I doubted her. I'm a traitor. This is my fault. It fucking is. Fuck!