Decode Or Die

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Let me put this in easy words for you, although it’s hard -given the fact that the situation isn’t in my favour. Why did I kill my best friend. Well, I didn't. The crash did. But, ironically, the crash seems like the tiniest factor that caused her death.

When I’m walking around my favorite coffee shop, my eyes snap to the roadside table where Kate and I had spent hours together.  To be fair, the memory of us don't haunt me anymore.  It just never has the opportunity.

The thing which chases me is the guilt. It’s been a good while after that day, good enough for my broken ribs to recover almost perfectly. But the guilt seems to increase.  Nobody is blaming me for that. Not even Kate’s family. But I wish they did.

My mind is now filled with continuous loop of what ifs.

What if I checked the brake before getting on the freeway? What if I hadn't taken her in my car that day? What if I swerved sooner?

The fact is, the options never end. And neither do the chances. Everytime I meet somebody or see something I keep having flashbacks. Single bits of life is a trigger warning now. The premature ageing of Kate's father, unexpected sags on her mother's skin, the helpless attitude of the man she was supposed to marry by the end of this year, the mourning elementary school graduate Ramona who just doesn't want to talk about her sister makes my life hard.

My mom tells me to move on. But the question is, how do I? She can never answer. When I’ve shut down so many people's absolute progress of life, let alone their ability to be alive like a human, I am not selfish enough to try to move on.

I don't want to bore anyone ranting about these, while my whole existence is now a piece of smothered feelings. The thing that has me still in shock is what I discovered a week after I was discharged from the hospital.

I visited the Police and they told me, after being assigned to investigate they  found that the wires of my Ford’s brake was cut.  Can't be a coincidence.

I was shook. Who would want to kill us? I know, I am well aware that Kate was the most benefitted heir of Mr. Arthur and many people shall inherit millions from her death. Not to mention that, Ramona Arthur was a victim target too, for the exact same reason.

Obviously, I file a case. My parents become jubilant and keep telling me that I should let go of my regrets now that I am sure it was a sabotage and I am not a bad driver nor a bad friend. Nobody gets their car checked up at a workshop for brake tests to drive few miles to home.

They are so right that I want to believe them. But my thoughts have gone completely haywire since this disturbing discovery. I cry out loud in my sleep. My mom caresses me in the middle of my night, reminding me that I am a very good girl, as if I was five.

I wish I was five. There would've been no regret, absolutely no guilt and of course, no apprehension whether the target was Kate, or I, for once.

I resume my job. I work in the Fallon Memorial Hospital as an intern. Fortunately, I was granted recovery leave as well as complete waiver on all the cost for being an exemplary intern.

This is my first day after resumption. Everyone is smiling at me, I don't mind unless the smile turns into a pity, slamming an ‘I am so sorry you broke your ribs’ or an ‘I am so sorry you are responsible for your friend’s death’ in my face.  I brush away all my negative feelings and try to concentrate on my work.

I enter the doctor's lounge where Blake and Hobert are sipping coffees. Blake notices me and hurriedly rushes to give me a hug, backing away when he recalls that I may not be considered a good candidate for a heartfelt embrace since I’m still wearing a brace to support my ribs.

“Hello, Beatrice. This place has become a morgue without you.” he grins.

“Actually there was a chance that she may have been put in the morgue.” says Hobert, who has a pretty morbid sense of humor. Blake throws his empty paper cup at him.

“Well, I guess you two haven’t learnt something important or haven't encountered a code silver without me.” I say, seeing Blake cheered me up actually.

“Umm, there were one or two drills maybe. So tell me, how are you?” Blake carefully puts a hand over my shoulder.

“Alive.” I say.

“That's not a proper answer. The last time I saw you under treatment, you were very much alive but didn't look as you were.”

“What I have learnt in the last few weeks is that being alive is pretty much the best and significant thing you can want from life.” with a pause I say, “or the worst”.

Blake tries to smile. I like it  that he doesn't act to be fakely sorry for me, or what a terrible time I just passed. He just acts like the last two months never happened.

I wanted this. I was praying that I might forget whatever things happened and live like a normal person for just a few minutes. I grow closer to him.

He takes me to the couch while Hobert gets up to leave, “Guys I am gonna take a round around the ICU in case something comes up” He's such a good bloke.

I suppress my smirk, “What happened these days? Anything interesting?”

“Not really, you see, there was not much patients and those who were admitted were not a strong case which interns could learn a bit from.” he bites his nail. I see a pretty large band-aid covering his right wrist.

I grab his hand, “Oh boy! What happened?”

“Beatrice, it’s nothing.”

I get a bad vibe. When he calls me by my full name in private, something is usually quite serious. I throw a wrinkled expression at him, daring him to hide anything from me.

“Okay, I’ll speak,” he scoffs, “Few days ago, I had an upset stomach and I was looking over the lounge cabinets for some meds. The lights were off, I didn't want to wake Veronica up.”

“Someone came inside, who knows who, he whispered something like I found Ms. Hills and came to stab me. I turned suddenly and attacked back and the sodding fellow almost severed my vein. He took one glance at me before running away.” he shrugs, “Maybe I am so ugly even a killer gets scared.”

I am astounded. I swallow as if I am trying to digest what he just said. “What happened next?”

He frowns, “What do you think? I called police and got him arrested? Nope, I am a doctor and I can take care of myself.”

“But why didn't you? It's like…” I gasp, “Oh my!”

“Hey Bea, I didn't for once showed my concern for your tragically broken ribs. We are supposed to make each other feel better, right? Oh, your gasp reminded the ache.” he laughs, “No, I was just joking, Bumble Bea.”

I gasp again and let out a sigh.  

A few hours later, when I reach home, I see a paper someone had slid under the door. I pick up the note which reads, “Tall person will kill you”.

“Bullshit”, I murmur.

That’s when I suddenly realize, the killer was looking for Ms. Fields, not Ms. Hills…

He’d come to kill Beatrice Fields...

Edited by: Shrutiluvbooks