The One Who Watches

Chapter Five

Sirens blare all around me and with every turn I take, I see blue and red. They have me cornered, I can't escape. I pant heavily, unable to process anything but my senses trying to find a means to my own escape. My feet are bare-dirty with sand and debris-and on cold granite. The clothes I have on are the same ones I wore that day. The sun has gone down to rest. I've been on the run for approximately seventy-one hours and thirty-six minutes.

"Leah Cartridge Smith! This is LAPD!" A voice blares from a speaker. It's so loud I cover my ears but I can still hear it. No! Go away! "You're under arrest for the suspected murder of Cody Jenkins and for the crime of evading arrest!" There are officers around me with their guns pointed directly at my head. I'm unarmed. I'm scared, I want to die.

An officer comes forward and suddenly my body is pushed onto the hood of a police car and my hands are held behind my back and placed in handcuffs.

"You have the right to remain silent! Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?"

"No," I shake my head frantically, my mental state diminishing into nothing. "No, stop. Stop, please. I can't, I can't go there." Paranoia has taken over me, I can feel it like poison seeping into my veins.

"You're a good runner, Miss Smith." He says, dragging me up and leading me to a car.

"Let me go." I fight back, "Stop, let me go."

The passenger seat is opened and before I am forced in, he says to me, "You really don't understand now do you, you've been arrested for murder, and there's enough witnesses to have it sealed, plus you ran away from questioning, a fugitive of the law. I would be saying my prayers right now if I were you." He pushes my head in before the rest of the body, "There is absolutely nothing that can save you." And the door is closed shut.

As the car drives by, all I see are the looks of passer-by's staring silently and they all say the same thing; I am a murderer.

*

There is no one else to call, he's the only one who has the power to fight this or they'll throw me in the deepest parts of hell and I'll never be able to come out. I dial the number and wait. He doesn't pick on the first try so I call again. On the fifth ring, it answers.

"Hello," His uninterested voice plays over the speaker.

"Tyrell," I answer, my voice a mere echo of itself.

"Who is this?" He sounds upset.

I sniff, "It's me, Leah,"

"Whose line are you using to call me?"

"I'm in jail, Tyrell, they're going to charge me for murder," I break down again, "Please help me."

"I heard all about it. You went ahead to run instead of making this phone call three days ago when you killed that man, what do you want me to do for you now?"

I did, you never picked.

"Please," I sob helplessly, "I need you to help me out."

"You're a murderer, Leah," I flinch, "You have a retired military's blood on your hands, only a miracle can save you from that."

"Please, don't leave me here, you know I don't deserve this. Tyrell, I'm your girlfriend you know me, you know I wouldn't just kill somebody... he was going to kill her."

He scoffs, "And so what? What should I do about that?"

"Listen, I-I need your help with a lawyer,"

"Lawyers are expensive, Leah."

"You have the money. If I let them give me a lawyer my life is over, you know what they'll do to me, I'll never get out."

"Cut yourself then, at least you're good at that."

My body freezes and I feel a gaping hole growing inside of me, "You have to help me."

There's a pause, "And why should I, hm? Prove to me why I should waste that much money helping you?"

I cling onto that phone desperately, a despicable darkness claiming me, "Because I was there, Tyrell. We were in that shit mental facility together and I watched you in such misery and isolation and I stayed, I stayed." Even when you cut me.

"You're helpless and making elaborate statements that you wouldn't be able to say to my face." There's a brief pause, "Fine, I'll give you a lawyer but that's it, that's all I do for you. If you make it out, you owe me-a lot."

He ends the call abruptly and it's silent. A wave of despair hits me and I break down again, drowning in my own tears and sorrow. For a long time I sit there, crying until I'm thrown out and placed back into my cell. I can't close my eyes without the picture of Cody's corpse coming into view. It's a memory burned into my subconscious, eating me alive. Perhaps it's his way of punishing me for taking his life and keeping mine. I don't even want mine.

Sometimes I hear voices telling me to kill myself, they were stronger that particular night in that cold cell. They all say I can't make it out, that my destiny is to be doomed in this cell till I give up my last breath.

"There is absolutely nothing that can save you." The words of the officer come banging in the back of my head.

Only death can save a sinner like me. I bury my hands in my ears to silence the noise, but my memories keep bringing them all back to me.

"What have you done?" Rebecca's eyes follow me everywhere. I killed the father of her baby.

Please make it end.

"Cut yourself then, at least you're good at that."

That night, I made my second suicide attempt. I lived, but awoke with nothing to feel about it. No remorse, no gratitude, no guilt nor condemnation. It was empty. Just simply a loss of blood and any ability to move my left arm.

A nurse hovers around me, "How do you feel, Miss Smith? Do you feel any major pain? The doctor will be here shortly to see you. It is truly a miracle you survived."

I look away, responding with a croaked voice, "I feel... the same."

"We had to get a blood transfusion because of how much blood you lost but thankfully, your lawyer arrived in time."

I arc my brows in confusion, "Lawyer?"

"Yes, she's here to see you, she's been waiting for you to wake up."

Someone enters the room and I turn my attention to the sounds of the echoing footsteps. Because of my position I can't see who it is. When the smell of cologne meets my nostrils, I gasp in disbelief, my entire system in a violent reboot.

It can't be.

That's when I see her, tall lean frame hovering over my bed frame, long locs falling directly on her back, ivory skin gleaming with the morning sunlight, familiar eyes boring straight into mine.

"Hello, Leah."

*

Author's Note:

If you find this book promising and engaging it would be encouraging to leave a vote and a comment if you can. Thank you ;⁠)

Ani.