Simpler Things

Part 16: Hospitals scare me.

                 We spent, 2 maybe 3 hours placing all evidence on the board. And getting it out of all the files. It had started raining pretty heavily. I had a terrible feeling.
I placed the pin into the photo of James. He smiled back at me. I backed away, trying to see the whole picture. My father, who had takes off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, walked forward and tied to the red yarn on the pin.
"I still don't understand, why red?"
"It's a nice color. But I'm assuming you don't have maroon." I said, smirking. He sighed,
"Are we done?" He looked over his shoulder, and backed up next to me.
"You're the only detective in the room. You tell me." I said. He studied the board.
"He used the same gun."
"What?"
"He used the same gun." He said.
"And which one would that be?" He leaned forward, looking closer at the crime photos.
"A high ammo capacity... a Glock 22. Usually carries about 15 rounds."
"How'd you know that?" I inhaled sharply, "Are you a gun nut?"
"It's a standard gun, the ones police officers and myself carry." He pulled his jacket back revealing a black holster. I went back to the board.
The middle picture was a simple black silhouette. I drew a white question mark on the face. A string attached it to James and Miss. M. A picture of each crime scene followed. The entire notes were pinned and attached to the killer's generic profile.
"1 is a incidence." My father mumbled.
"2 is a coincidence." I continued.
"3 is a pattern." He said grimly. "No one else is going to die. I won't let it happen." His phone began ringing from his pocket, muffling the sound.
Thunder sounded from outside.
"Spooky." I said sitting on his desk.
"I really prefer Mulder," he said as he got his phone out of his pocket. "Hello?" I watched as his expression slowly darkened. "I'll be right there." He hung up. "Get your coat."

      I questioned him the whole ride. I couldn't get an answer. Eventually I realized where we were heading. The bad feeling in my stomach worsened as we pulled into the hospitals parking lot. We ran through the heavy rain, as it beat down, slowing us. We got to the front desk of the ER. My father said to the women my mother's name.
Fear engulfed my insides.
She told us a room number, and we continued briskly ahead in the building. We turned a corner, Charlie sat in a chair outside of a room. His head hung low, his hair was wet and pressed against his head. He looked up, his cold eyes peered into my soul. I noticed a deep cut on the bridge of his noes, and a bruise on his left cheek bone. My dad ran over and hugged him. He whispered something in his ear. He broke his gaze at me to look at my father. He shook his head. My father rubbed his face. I stood at the end of the hall. I felt my chest rise, the warm air filling my lungs.

What happened.

time went by, I was too scared to ask my father the time. I sat next to my brother and eventually, a doctor came out of my mother's room holding a clip board. My father looked at him hopelessly. I barley heard him.
"She's stabilized. Several fractures on her ribs, the blood force trauma in her skull has made her unresponsive.  She's in a coma."
He allowed us into her room. She was sleeping on the hospital bed, she had a bruised eye. And a cut on her lip, besides that she seemed okay.  My father pulled up a chair and sat next to her, he starred into her, and smiled. He reached out and held her hand. I had to leave the room.
 
I walked out into the hallway grabbing my mouth. I felt my eyebrows furrow as a tear rolled down my cheek.
Did I do this?
"Alyson." Charlie closed the door behind him and joined me in the hall.
"Is she... going to be... okay?" I said between sobs.
"I don't know." His expression was hopeless.
"Be honest with me." His tone became lined with anger. "Did you have anything to do with this?"
"What?" I asked, startled.
"What did you do?" He asked, spitting every syllable at me.
"What?" I back up, rubbing my arms from the chills his words gave me.
"If she-" he cleared his throat trying to keep his voice from shaking, "If she isn't okay after this..." he looked straight at me. "It's your fault."
I backed away into the darkness of the corner. He shook his head and went back inside.

I felt my heart break. It wasn't a physical pain, my heart was fine, but I felt it break. A small area on my chest felt... compressed. It was the same feeling as stress, but more of an ache. It had pulses, and I felt as it slowly spread across my chest. I felt the guilt trickling down my throat every time I swallowed.  I felt the hopelessness leaking into my brain, clearing my thoughts.
      I hadn't known my life would be like this. If I had, I could've prepared... I could have prevented so many things. I could've stopped James, and Ms. M and Cara's father's deaths. I could've... but I didn't. And I have to live with that.
       I sat in the cafeteria, holding my hot chocolate in between my hands, allowing it to warm my whole body. It was October 5th now, so it was socially acceptable to have a hot chocolate. I didn't drink it, though. I just let the heat seep through my body hoping to suppress the war of emotions I was feeling.
But I couldn't.
And I'd realize that all to soon.