The Secrets We Keep

The Forty-Eighth Chapter

Christopher

The first thing I hear when I wake up is the sound of beeping machines. It's steady and almost in time with the throbbing in my head. And that headache only gets worse when I open my eyes and the artificial light of the room I'm in hits me. 

I groan and try to sit my body up but it's hard and when I glance down, I see why. My arms are covered from knuckle to elbow in snow-white bandages and as I continue looking around, I realize where I am: A hospital. 

I try and remember why I'm here but my memories are fuzzy. I was at school, finishing fencing practice, and then... the smell of something burning... a face with blood running into its eyes and then a window shattering. And heat, so much heat. 

That beeping sound gets louder and faster and when I turn to the side, I see it's my heart rate monitor. 

There's a sound in the hallway and a moment later a dark-skinned woman in red scrubs is in the room. 

"He's awake," She calls over her shoulder before she nears my hospital bed. "Hey, hun, shh, it's ok. I'm here now." She nears me and places her warm hands on my shoulders to gentle me back down onto the bed. "Take it easy, you've been through quite the ordeal."

"What happened?" I ask and my voice sounds gruff like I've either been shouting or haven't spoken for a while. But as soon as my head meets the pillow, everything that happened comes back to me in a flash. "Damien," I gasp and grab her wrist in a weak grip. "Is he ok?"

"Shh, it's ok, son. He won't hurt you or anyone else again. Now just relax while we wait for the doctor."

Hurt me? My vision swims as she continues to murmur comforting words. "He was hurt," I say, more than a little confused by what she's telling me. "His head was bleeding and his foot was sprained. It got crushed under one of the bookshelves."

She looks at me worriedly and when another set of footsteps sounds in the hall, she turns her head to speak over her shoulder. 

"He's a little out of it," she says to an older woman in dark blue scrubs and a lab coat. "He keeps talking about the other boy and his heart rate is spiking."

"Give him some more morphine. It might just be the pain," the other woman says and steps into the room. "Christopher," she says to me. "You're a very lucky person. If it weren't for the jacket you tied over your face..."

The rest of what she says fizzles out as my eyes become more droopy. 

-

I don't know how long it is until I next wake up. Maybe it's only a few hours. Maybe it's days. All I know is that when I next open my eyes, it's dark. 

This time when I sit up, my monitor doesn't go crazy. It stays level as I look around my room. The first thing I see is a remote next to my bed. It's laid neatly against the table beside me like the nurse wanted me to find it if I woke up. I pick it up to turn on the TV in my room. One of the perks of having a rich father is that I have a private hospital room and don't bother anyone when the TV flashes on. 

I mute the TV before it can alert any of the nurses to my wakeful state and channel hop until I find the local news. Silently, I see a picture of Excelsior aflame as a young news reporter covers the story. 

I read the writing running below the screen. 

Gibbon's Killer Confesses - Suicide By Fire, Another Student Caught In The Flames

My muddled mind can't make sense of what's happening right now. Are they talking about Damien? But he couldn't... he couldn't be the killer. 

I groan and clutch my head. There's a pounding in there that's relentless. It's like someone's stuck a spike through my brain.