Dissociative Psyche ✦ J. Riley | ✓ [book 2]

4~ Fear Leads to Anger

Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.

~ George Lucas

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For the moment, all Jake could do was stare down at the young boy on the table: eyelids limp and hiding the dull wisp of light beneath them, grey starting to settle into his dark skin, cold emanating off his body, and a series of stitches hidden beneath the sheet that covered his chest. Jake could never remember a moment when he visited the ME's office, and left with a shred of cheeriness within him. What seemed to hurt more?

It didn't need to happen.

This kid -- Freddie Bronson -- was only a few years older than Quentin. Jake couldn't even begin to imagine the agony his parents were going through. What does that feel like? How can you cope? How does somebody wake up every morning knowing that a piece of them is gone forever? It sounded horrific.

The door suddenly swung open, and Lex shuffled in without uttering a word, his phone grasped tightly in his hand. Judging by the look on his face, he had just gotten a hold of Freddie's parents. Jake didn't have to ask him to know what he was thinking: Lex looked the way he felt.

Disgusted.

"How many times?" Jake suddenly heard him mumble. He turned to him, while Lex kept his gaze fixated on the boy.

"What?" Jake asked.

"How many times do we have to be called to this kind of garbage?" he said, "Cops shooting kids in the street. I mean, is this what we have to look forward to?" Jake started to get what he meant; with a new kid on the way, he knew Lex would send a prayer to God every time the kid stepped out into the world.

Into the very real, very cruel world.

"It might have just been an accident," Jake said.

"Maybe," Lex scoffed back, "All I know is that by noon tomorrow, the city's going to be flooded with cops. All of them with itchy trigger fingers. As if the ones we have now aren't bad enough,"

Jake wasn't sure how to respond to that, all he could do was place a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. The ME then walked in, adorning blood-soaked scrubs whilst he pulled off his gloves.

"Sorry to keep you boys waiting; I just finished the autopsy on Officer Tucker," he said.

"No rush, doc," Jake replied, "Cause of death?"

"The bullet split his carotid artery. Tucker bled out before the ambulance could even leave the dispatch," he replied. 

"What about Freddie?" Lex asked.

"The bullet pierced his lung and his diaphragm collapsed,"

"Was it painful?" 

"Lex," Jake nudged him.

"His father wanted to know. Did he feel any pain?" he asked. The ME looked at him with unease, but he answered nonetheless.

"It would have been quick," he replied. Lex seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, while Jake just looked down at his shoes, scuffed from the mud and rain water from outside. 

"They're coming down to make the official identification," he said. Jake could tell he wanted to say something else, but he seemed to be having an internal conflict within himself. He could see the discomfort within him, and as much as he knew he would hate it, Jake made a decision.

"Do you want me to talk to the family?" he asked. Lex then seemed surprised by his offer, but he declined.

"Nah. I can handle it," he said. Suddenly, one of the ME's aids peeked through the door.