Haunted by the Past (Original)

Chapter 56

As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out to the world. A freight train could have passed by the window and I would not have stirred. I didn't wake until ten hours later and even when I did, it was a struggle to keep my eyes open. My entire body felt heavy. Even though I hadn't eaten, I wasn't hungry. I could've easily slept for a few more hours, but reality slowly crept back into my conscious mind and soon I could not ignore it any longer.

Eventually I rose and freshened up in the bathroom before meandering out to the kitchen. Eli was too focused on his laptop at the table to even acknowledge me when I asked him how things were going. Lacking the energy to get his attention, I decided to ignore him. Looking across the kitchen countertop I saw that he had obtained small packets of instant noodles at some point while I was asleep. I opened my mouth to complain about the lack of actual nutritional value, but I decided even arguing about it was more effort than it was worth. Without any other option at hand, I reluctantly started boiling water.

I considered heading down to supermarket after eating to get something of more substance, but after shifting my weight the wrong way onto my ankle, I soon realized that wasn't happening. I was about to suggest we order some groceries to be delivered, but then I remembered the conversation from the early hours of the morning. No one was to know we were in that apartment. Without even uttering a word, I already knew Eli's response.

I poured the boiling water over my instant noodles, then watched in contemplative silence as the steam rose from the surface. No more than a single question was spoken between us, and one of us didn't even notice, and yet I was feeling absolutely pissed with him. Glancing down at the noodles softening in the bowl, I felt the urge to fling the bowl across the kitchen. Was it the lack of effort put into getting us food? Was it his paranoia of us being noticed? Or was it the fear that this would be the new normal for us? All I knew I was full of hate and anger.

The sound of keys clicking filled the room. For some reason, it was deafening. The very sound of it got under my skin and drove me crazy. Quickly I slurped the noodles – a bit too soon, but I wanted out of there. As soon as I finished, I put my bowl into the sink, retreated back to the bedroom and plopped back down on the bed.

Being in Cameron's old bedroom still felt weird, but it was still more tolerable than being near Eli. I had only seen the room once before when Cameron lived there. I remembered it being plastered in metal band posters and reeking of marijuana. While the posters were gone, the smell of stale smoke still graced the air. Part of me craved getting absolutely stoned – it would've done wonders for my nerves - I knew though that the warden in the front room wouldn't condone it. It didn't help that the apartment was sitting on top of a literal bar where I would happily get plastered. I considered sneaking out while Eli was distracted by his work. Surely one or two drinks wouldn't hurt.

Turning over onto my side, my eyes drifted to my backpack lying across a set of drawers on the far side of the room and all of the events from the day before came crashing back to me. It was only yesterday that we had found Dr. Higgins and yet it felt like a lifetime ago. That was when I remembered reading her journal and the fact that I hadn't finished it before we got chased from our motel room.

Mentally I recalled everything I had read. Henry went to Dr. Higgins to plea for her assistance in faking Brodie's death because he had been threatened. Henry had come up with a plan of using a fresh cadaver from the local SUNY campus. He had a friend that worked at the training hospital there. They'd fake Brodie's death then Brodie could flee Raven Hill and escape Triple-6. The plan seemed sound, but was that really the reason why Dr. Higgins hid her journal? Is that why Triple-6 killed her? Something didn't add up. There had to be more to the story.

Before I knew it, I had gotten up and crossed the room to dig out the journal from my backpack. The small book felt heavy in my hands as if it contained the weight of the world within it. Judging from what I had read so far, I was only about halfway through the written pages. Sitting back down on the bed, I leant my back against the wall and opened the journal back to where I had left off.