Murderer

Chapter 15: Brendon

I woke up around noon with the realization that I was sedated. I knew I deserved it, I went crazy on that police officer. But I just want to know what happened to Ryan, and the fact that I am sitting here in a hospital bed, wasting time, clueless of an important piece of information was chewing me up on the inside.

A nurse came in to check on me, and she reassured me that a doctor would be in soon to release me from the hospital. I just nodded and smiled.

No more suicide attempts. No more getting sedated. I'm going to be smart about my investigation to find Ryan, and I'm not going to let anyone stop me, or control me.

The door to my hospital room swung open and the doctor came in. He wrote down some notes and looked at my eyes really quick with a flashlight.

"Okay, you're free to go. Would you like us to call your parents to pick you up?" he asked me, ready to walk out the door to do so.

"No, I'm going to go for a walk to the library, thanks though." I told him, getting ready to get out of the bed.

"Well, I'm going to make your parents aware that you were released. Have fun." He said strictly. He walked back out the door, leaving me alone in the hospital room.

I got up fast and had put my socks and shoes on quickly. I ran out of the hospital and into the daylight, which blinded me for a second. It was about 75 degrees out, the perfect weather for a walk to the library. I had to find out what had happened all those years ago at our pond.

Los Angeles was like a maze. No matter how well I knew the city, I always found myself feeling lost. The buildings towered over me as cars lined the street. You could hear people blaring their music in their cars because they had their windows down. A light wind blew my hair back out of my face. It was a nice feeling, something I knew Ryan hasn't felt in weeks. I couldn't enjoy the weather after that thought.

The library was an old building in the center of the city. There was no actual parking lot so people had to park on the side of the road and pay for city parking. That was the advantage of walking, since I didn't know how long I would be and I didn't feel right asking my parents to use more money on me considering my suicide attempt.

The big wooden door swung open after I pulled on it, taking a lot more strength than I thought it would. Looking around, the library was exactly how I remembered it. Big and open, surrounded by bookshelves. The book checkout was to the right of me. I walked to the back of the library where they had a little computer space. When I sat down on the chair, it made a creaking sound that disrupted the silence. I looked around to see if I had bothered anyone, but there was no one to bother.

I started searching for clues. I started with googling the murders in the town we lived in. I found a wikipedia page with a long list. I scrolled through the list, looking at the basic details of each murder listed. Then something caught my eye. The murder of Katherine Kay. 1978. I read the whole wikipedia article, taking notes on a piece of scrap paper. It all went down at the pond. Ryan and I's pond. The pond felt so foreign to me now. The weekend with him felt like so long ago, and the way it ended there at the pond made my stomach turn. I'll probably always go back there, but I will never feel safe, comfortable, or contented there ever again.

The killer was never found, he had ran into the woods according to her boyfriend. He was never heard of or seen from again. Could the killer come back? I doubted it. He would have just killed Ryan. At the pond. Why would he kidnap Ryan? I read that the killer was most likely a male in his later teenage years. I figured that maybe he was a drug addict or a drunk. He probably regretted what he had done. What I would believe is that the boyfriend would want revenge for the death of his only true love.

I scrolled down to read more about her boyfriend, Christopher Walker. Apparently his house burned down in the 80s, and he was trapped inside. They identified his remains in the rubble. Great, a dead end. I sighed and banged my head gently on the desk, ready to give up.