Pattern

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty One

// Avery //

Late on Saturday, a Saturday I'd spent trying to work on school stuff (and failing), stalking Natasha's Facebook (I had the image of her ingrained into my brain), and playing guitar angrily, Prudence rang.

And as nice as it is of her to ring, whenever she does, it's not good. 

"Hey," I picked up casually. Too casually. I could already hear the words forming in her mouth.

"Hey, sorry to ruin your evening," She said, sounding too composed. We were both trying. "But-"

"Natasha's dead?" 

"Yeah," Prudence whispered. "Dumped in an alleyway, in a bin bag, like the other two. I haven't been able to get my hands on the autopsy yet, I don't think it's even been written, but I'll have it for Monday."

"Okay," I answered quietly, matching her tone. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

I sighed. "You know, I can hear it in your voice. Maybe it's because three girls have died, and you're feeling like you should have figured it out now, and it's all happening a few minutes away, and they're all like you."

There was silence. "I'll live, Avery," She finally said. "I'll see you on Monday."

Then Prudence hung up on me.

---

The news came out on Sunday, when Natasha's page suddenly became full of RIP messages, her profile picture of her smiling with her friend gaining a ton of likes, people saying they wished they'd known her better, talked to her more. I wondered how many meant it. I was fairly sure that if I died a horrible death, people would suddenly get all sympathetic while actually thanking God that I was gone.

I wondered who would care, and the number wasn't very high. I didn't love many people, and half of them were dead. When you were alone a lot, you started to think about these things a little more than what was healthy.

I had nothing to do - I mean, nothing, so during the afternoon I made a decision to changed that. I wasn't going to sit around thinking about things to do and being a coward. So I went down to the shops, bought ice-cream, and called to Prudence's house, because I was feeling like a good person, and I felt bad for her. 

Just my luck, though, that Robert Knightley opened the door. He stared at me. He stared at the ice-cream tub. His glare wandered back to me.

"Why are you here, Watts?" He barked. 

"I .. uh," I said. I hadn't seen him in weeks, which was a good thing, because it meant I wasn't getting into legal trouble. I guess I had to thank his daughter for that, since I actually went to school, worked and researched mainly because of her. I couldn't tell him that, though. I was fairly sure Prudence hadn't told him about our rekindled friendship. "I thought I'd say sorry for, you know, my history, and would like to thank you for not arresting me all those times." I held out the ice-cream awkwardly, as a peace offering.

He didn't reach out to take the tub. Instead he stared at me. "It's not a problem.. I'm glad you haven't been around the station, lately, though. And I'm sure you know that we recognise that you were not involved in the murders. Nonetheless, I hope you stay out of trouble. You can keep the ice-cream."

Then Prudence appeared, her hair falling in waves past her shoulders. Her eyes widened when she saw me and her father, and she jumped in, even though I desperately tried to indicate it was all going fine, I had it under control.

"Oh, dad, that was me, I asked Avery to come over and help me with .. stuff."

When Robert turned to look at his daughter, I slapped my own face. 

"Oh, I see. Define 'stuff.' "

I could see Prudence struggling with what I could possibly help her with. After all, I wasn't good at anything. Then she suddenly yelled "Self defence!! Avery's helping me with self defence!"

Robert raised an eyebrow.

"You know," She continued, awkwardly grinning. "The way you said I had to brush up on it, so I wouldn't get attacked? Well, Avery has plenty of experience, and we used to be good friends, so.."

"Yeah," I agreed, attempting to look like a good guy. "That's another reason why I'm here. To help Prudence."

Officer Knightley didn't seem pleased, but he let me in. Prudence went upstairs, and I hesitated, going to follow her, until I heard him say "Stop right there." We both turned back to face him.

"You can practice downstairs, in the front room if you like. Not in your room, Prude."

She sighed. "Okay." I followed her back down into the front room.

--

"You could have rang," Prudence said to me, sitting down on the couch.

I smirked. "Self defence? Do I have to let you kick me repeatedly now?"

"That might actually be a great idea," She said, smiling a little. "For self defence reasons only, of course."

"Got any spoons?" I asked, opening the tub of ice-cream impatiently. She got up, and came back a minute later with two massive spoons, and handed me one. Then she took a massive spoonful and shoved it into her mouth so quickly I nearly laughed out loud. "Oh my god, I haven't eaten chocolate ice cream in forever, I freaking love you!" She said - then paused. 

There was an awkward silence. I could literally hear myself breathe.

Then it stopped, as I dug my spoon into the ice-cream. "It is pretty good, I must say. Anyway, any news on Natasha?"

Her expression became sadder. I instantly regretted it.

"No," She sighed. "But of course we've been here before, and that photo confirmed it even more. Tortured and murdered, I guess." She stabbed the ice cream with the spoon, suddenly angry. I waited for her to speak. She didn't.

"Well, maybe with this murder we'll get more clues," I said, a rare attempt at optimism.

"A third girl has to die for us to get clues, Avery??" She exclaimed. "Who is doing this? And just.. why?" Her voice broke, and she looked at the ground, murmuring "I will not cry."

I'd already known this, but the murders were really screwing her up, even though she didn't know any of the victims personally. I didn't want to admit it, but it was affecting me too - especially since I'd seen that picture. Her mouth had been gagged, but all you needed to see were her eyes.

They were screaming for help.

"Avery?" Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up, then asked "Where's the body?"

--

Sneaking into the morgue in the back of the hospital was not a fun experience, nor was finding Natasha. Robert Knightley only knew so much about the girl's body, but it was enough.

When Prudence found the body, she took one look, and lurched, trying to vomit but wasn't able to. I had to swallow, staring at the mangled, naked body. Everywhere was fierce red with scars. But one thing stuck out - a capital L carved into her stomach. I pointed this out to Prudence, and then we left, trying to make sure everything was as it had been before we'd come in.

A doctor had passed, and asked us pretty rudely why we were in the area. Prudence was near enough to tears, so she made up a convincing story about our mother being ill and that we couldn't find the ward.

He bought it, directing us to the ward, and after he'd gone, we both got out of the hospital as quickly as we could.

Hospitals don't tend to hold good memories for anyone.