Suicide Tree || ✓

3. "Sleep"

I found myself in front of the tree again. That morning, my mom had caught me watching the news again and ordered me to leave the house. I don't think my mom knows how to deal with a teenager that discovered three corpses so she tries to pretend everything is normal. My dad, being a part of the police force, is slightly more understanding seeing as he was one of the ones that saw them.

I dropped my bag at the foot of the tree and gazed up at it. My eyes raked over the thick branch where I last saw rope tightly coiled around it. Looking closer I noticed that there were faint scars marking it, as if it was a struggle to properly tie around. As if they were struggling, when they were being hanged. I drew in a shaky breath at that thought.

I killed them all.

But why didn't anybody hear them struggle – scream?

My fingers touched the thick trunk, softly pressing them against the small crevices of the wood. What were they thinking, while they hung? Did Mr. Crawford think of his wife, before committing suicide with his daughter? Were they killed?

I killed them all.

Where are the stools? How did they get up there and manage to hang themselves? None of their feet could touch the ground so how did they hang themselves?

I didn't know what to think.

A loud snap resounded in the little clearing and I looked up, staring hard at the treeline, in search of a shadow. Another snap prompted me to move towards the source. My footsteps were light and soft, yet it felt like they echoed louder than ever before.

"Who's there?" I called out cautiously. Stupid, Scarlett, if someone wanted to be found, they wouldn't act this mysterious. I ignored my conscience and continued to make my way towards a pine tree where I thought I saw a shadow. When I didn't see anybody lurking in the shadows, I let out a sigh of relief, my eyes wandering over to my bag, and a black piece of paper nailed onto the tree trunk. Within seconds my heart was racing when my eyes looked by at the tree trunk. I didn't waste a second and relied on the pure instinct to flee from danger.

I ran faster than I've ever run before, ducking under branches and jumping over roots. I sprinted out of the shadows and onto the road where two headlights blinded me and brought me to an abrupt stop. The car screeched to a stop and I could hear a familiar cursing even with all the blood rushing in my ears.

"What the hell Scarlett, are you freaking crazy? I could've killed you!" Sam exclaimed, slamming the car door shut. I didn't reply, I couldn't; my shaking hands were on my knees and I was panting like a rabid dog. "Jesus, Scar – are you okay?" Sam asked confused as he came closer. I tried breathing in deeply, but the panic that was clawing its way into my lungs made it hard. Sam rubbed my back as I slowly got my breathing in control.

"I was – I was near, there, the park, tree, and the trunk was empty, scars on the branch –" I began speaking frantically.

"– Okay, Scarlett, I need you to calm down and tell me what happened," Sam asked, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion. I took a deep breath and started again.

"I had to get out of the house – well I was forced but that's beside the point – and I was supposed to go to school and, I don't know, I came here instead to find some closure I guess about what you figured -" I cleared my throat. "what you found out was going through my head and I noticed that there were deep scars on the branch where the rope was tied around, and they looked like they were made from the rope rubbing constantly against it, and how else could it have happened if they weren't struggling when they were hung?" I said quickly. I held up a finger when I saw Sam about to interrupt.

"The place on the trunk where I found the note was empty when I came. While I was looking at the tree I heard a branch snapping twice so I went to check and no one was there! Then when I turned around there was a black note nailed to the trunk and oh god, what if they're still here!" I became frantic the more I spoke. "They were there Sam!" I said with wide eyes. Sam remained silent, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Where's your phone?" he asked abruptly. I frowned at his absurd question.

"My phone is in my bag..." I trailed off and my eyes grew even wider. "...which is under the tree – Sam, how did you know I was here?" I asked, my stomach clenching with dread.

"You...texted me," he said slowly and as I shook my head. If anything, I was avoiding him. Sam sighed deeply. "What are you doing?" he asked, as I began walking into the forest.

"I need to see the note," I said with a shaky tone. "I need to know for sure," Sam shook his head and muttered something under his breath before following me. The killer texted Sam with my phone. The thought that the same fingers that tied three nooses around innocent people had touched my phone was unnerving and made me shudder.

"It's still there," I said, pointing out the obvious once we laid our eyes on the black note nailed to the tree trunk. Sam cautiously walked up to the trunk and ripped the note out and shoved it in my bag before walking with a slightly faster pace back to me.

"Come on," he said as his eyes flitted about nervously. I nodded and followed after him, the paranoia making me flinch with every noise we made.

Unfortunately we didn't get much further than a couple of meters before a ringing tone made us jump out of our skins. Thankfully it was just Sam's phone. I couldn't hear what the person on the other side was saying – I only knew it couldn't be good because of all people it was his mother that called him. That caused him to furrow his brows a little bit, but he a deep frown within seconds into the phone call and he held his phone so tightly I was worried it would shatter.

"Sam?" I whispered after a moment of silence. He still held his phone tightly, and he stalked at a faster pace which I followed with much difficulty. "Sam?" I asked again, a bit louder.

His head snapped up and he came to an abrupt stop. "Dad had a heart attack," he said emotionlessly. I sucked in a sharp breath and instinctively placed my hand in his and held it tight. "He's fine, the doctors managed to stabilize him and," his voice broke and he cleared his throat. "I have to go...I'll drop you off and come back tonight if I can..." he trailed off as we stepped into his car. I looked at him disapprovingly; he was shutting me out. Despite that, we had slightly more pressing matters at hand – there was a possible killer on the loose. No matter how heartless it may have sounded, it was true. I nodded mutely and sat down, my mind drifting back to the note that was stuffed in my bag. The shiver that ran through me was frightening because it wasn't one of horror or fear. It was something that I couldn't quite decipher and had no desire to either.

"He's going to be fine," I whispered when we reached my house. My thumb traced random patterns on his hand. Sam gave me a tired smile before leaning over to give me a soft kiss on my lips.

"I love you," he said as I stepped out of the car. I froze for a moment before giving him a tight smile.

"See you later."

➶➴

Pills and bottles,

They help me sleep.

I read over the paper again, my head shaking with confusion. That's it? That's all there is to it? My mouth fell open and I felt a surge of annoyance wash through me. There wasn't even a hidden message, just two bloody lines of an infuriating poem. If you could even call it that. My phone vibrated again and I ignored it like I had been for the past hour or so. I didn't feel like talking to anyone after what happened in the park. The moment Sam had dropped me off; I ran upstairs and read through the short message. My phone vibrated again and I huffed with frustration, finally deciding to pick up the phone.

"What?" I snapped, my eyes still moving over the two simple lines.

"What? What!?" my mom screeched, making me wince. "Your best friend is in the hospital and I've been calling you for the past hour to tell you and you pick up with a 'what'!" she exclaimed. My mouth went dry and I stared at the black note crumpling from the tight grip of my hand.

"Mom...why is she there," I asked despite knowing the all too clear answer.

"She overdosed on sleeping pills."