Gone Girl 3

Chapter 17

I survived driving to his apartment. My worry for him is greater than my triggers.

It's already midnight. I look up at his apartment and the lights are turned off. I hurry to the entrance and I call him on the intercom.

No answer.

I call another person, hoping they don't mind if I wake them up at this time.

No answer. Of course they mind.

I call another one and they luckily answer.

"Who are you? Why are you calling at this time?" a woman says with a cranky tone—which tells me I woke her up.

"I'm deeply sorry, I'm looking for Derek Forster, your neighbor, I- I haven't heard from him for a long time and I'm worried."

I hear her sigh but she opens the main door for me. I thank her but I know she didn't hear it.

I hurry towards the elevator and I impatiently wait for it to reach the fifth floor. I squeeze my body through the elevator doors before they even open properly.

I reach his door and the first thing I notice is that it's ajar.

"What the hell..." my heart hammers in my chest and my blood freezes in my veins. Why is his door open?

This makes going inside easier since he isn't answering and I don't have the keys. But was he burglarized? The door looks fine. Perfect even.

I push open the door and I notice the keys are in the door, inside.

What the fuck? Did he forget to lock the door?

I turn on the lights and I almost faint when I see the mess his living room became.

Papers and clothes everywhere. His phone is on the floor, the screen cracked.

No wonder he wasn't replying.

My feet are glued to the floor and I consider screaming. I know now something horrible happened here...

Despite my fears, I walk to his bedroom and I slowly open the door.

I push away the flashbacks as I stare at the unmade bed. All the sheets and pillows are on the floor.

What I notice instead is the light coming from the bathroom. I gulp down hard hoping it's just him, alone.

Maybe I've misinterpreted the situation... maybe he is there with a girl and they are having wild sex.

No. Stop. This isn't normal.

I go to the door.

"Derek? Are you there?"

No answer. I bite the inside of my cheek as I keep knocking on the door and I pull out my phone, dialing 911 but not calling.

They won't get here in time if I get murdered but at least... No, no stop.

I open the door slowly and I notice his clothes on the floor.

And then I spot Derek, laying down with his back against the wall.

I hurriedly run to him and kneel beside him, I grab his face and try to wake him up.

He grunts after several desperate attempts to yell his name.

"Derek? What did you do?" My voice is trembling as I begin to understand what happened here.

He drank.

And not a small amount. The kind of amount I used to drink. The kind of amount that could kill you.