Hunting the flame

CHAPTER 3: APPLE, SPICE AND LIES (1)

MAUDE

26th October, 2013

"We found something" the man in the orange suit yells, and everyone rushes to him.

I stand up, dropping the cup of water from my hand, all my attention focused to him.

"False alarm, everyone" he shouts "it's a dead pig", he almost laughs and I'm so embarrassed I wish I could sink into the ground right now and disappear forever.

It was not a dead pig. I know what I saw. Silas saw it too, but Silas isn't even here anymore. It's just me: a drunk, pathetic college girl, who's probably so intoxicated she can't tell the difference between a human body and a pig. I wanna go to them and scream and say "no, it wasn't a pig, keep searching, this can't be happening I know what I saw" but this would just make it worse.

"Looks like he's been shot" one of them states as they pulled it out of the river. I'm grossed out. It's my pig. My murder. This is just getting pathetically embarrassing right now. "Don't worry kiddo, he's gigantic so I would've mistaken it for a human too" one of the police officers touches my shoulders, comforting me on his way out.

"Nothing to see here, everyone go back to your houses and stop drinking so much alcohol, alright?" another one shouts at the kids stacked up beside the yellow tape.

"How about we drive you home, mhm?" the officer from earlier asks.

"It's fine. I can walk"

"Miles?" he raises his eyebrows, almost amused by me.

"I'm fine. If I'm done here I wanna leave. Excuse me" I say embarrased, trying to making my way out of this mess.

"We still need a statement, but look, how about you come to the station tomorrow, hm? When you sober up a bit"

"I'm not even that drunk and— fine" I bite back my words. "Sure, thanks. Goodnight, officer" I turn away and leave.

I call a cab and I hate myself so much for drinking because now I have to leave my car at this asshole's house and it's too much embarrassment I had to endure for only one night. The ride feels like it takes forever, I impatiently look at time from 10 to 10 seconds, every minute feels like an eternity. The driver asks about the police being there but I don't want to talk about it and I say I have no idea what they were doing there. Liar. After what felt like two hours later, I finally get out of the cab and look at the house from afar. I just stay there. I let out a big, heavy sigh and blink back tears as I'm trying to make my way inside.

I stumble through the front door of my house, my breath ragged and my heart pounding in my chest. My mind keeps replaying the last hours in my head, grappling with the racing thoughts. It doesn't make sense, nothing makes sense. I ran up the stairs and rush through the door, collapsing on the floor near my bed.

My hands start trembling, clutching at my clothes as I fight to regain my composure. The lifeless body floating on the river, the lightning, the thunder, the cage, Silas running away, it all sears into my memory. It was there, it was right there, it was a human body. I'm not crazy i'm not crazy i'm not crazy I begin questioning my own sanity.

Body—911 call— Silas pulling me in a safe space— thunder, biggest thunder in the world—lightning—no more Silas— no more body, I replay in my head like it would help me with anything besides going insane.

The thunder echoes in my ears. The shockwaves I felt when seeing the body send cold shivers down my spine again. I need someone to tell me I haven't lost my grip on reality.

But the only someone that can do that, disappeared like he never exist. What if..? No. Don't go there, Maude. Don't.

Doubt gnaws at my mind, giving me the tiniest bits of uncertainty. Is it possible that my own mind has conjured the grotesque image of the body? Did the stress and alcohol team up together to play tricks on my senses, and distort my reality?