The Fat Girl Somehow Stole My Heart

32

No.

This can't be. They're lying.

They must be.

About a minute later, another text came through.

Unknown: Would you like proof? Here you go :).

Beneath the text, was a photo of Wendy laying on a wooden ground, eyes closed.

With her wrists cut open on both sides.

There was a pool of blood surrounding her hands and her face looked a shade lighter.

She looked peaceful. As peaceful as a person whose soul didn't live in them anymore.

In other words, she looked dead.

She was dead.

I felt lightheaded before I numbly dropped my phone, probably breaking the glass screen, to the ground.

With every passing second, it felt like my lungs were shrinking, restricting the airflow into my body.

My heart was pumping at a speed my body could not comprehend.

My body must have gone into a frozen-like state because for the next few moments after that, none of my body parts could move.

"What's wrong?" One of the detectives asked me.

I blankly stared at the phone on the ground, hoping a call would come in saying 'You have just been pranked on the TV show, Prank'd or something.'

But nothing came in. Not another text. Not another call.

The detectives eventually picked up my phone and saw the texts. To say their eyes were as wide as saucers would be an underestimation.

"Who is this?" They both asked at the same time.

"I don't know." I distantly whispered.

"Sergeant Sherbourne, call the forensic analysts of the police department immediately to track down the location of where these messages were sent." The dark haired detective told the officer next to me.

"On it Detective Gerald." He nodded and left.

"What's going on?" Wendy's mother appeared behind her husband, who looked just as stricken as me after seeing the texts.

His knees gave out as he knelt down in agony, tears brimming his eyes.

He handed her the phone and not a minute later, she broke down, wailing her eyes out.

"I am very sorry for your loss," The detectives said to the family as they took their hats off.

They directed their attention to me before they introduced themselves. "My name is Detective Gerald and this is my partner, Detective Ryan. We are investigating this missing persons case which has now turned into a homicide case.  Would you mind sitting down so that we can ask you a couple of questions?" He gestured towards the couch.

As I robotically made my way over to the couch, I could feel Wendy's father's eyes on me. When I finally met his eyes, I couldn't read the emotion in them. But that emotion was strong enough to break the remaining piece of my heart that wasn't already broken from Wendy's death.

Wendy's death.

It sounds so wrong.

So unreal. So final.

Wendy was dead.

It hadn't quite sank in yet and a part of me refused to let it sink.

I sat down as the detectives started firing questions.

"What is your name?" Detective Ryan asked.

"Tyler."

"Last name?"

"Walker."

More questions about who I am, where I'm from, my relation to Wendy, were asked. I don't even know how I answered the questions whilst I was busy falling apart. 

Finally, questions about the texts emerged.

"Why were these messages sent to you?"

"I don't know," I whispered. The whole time, I had been whispering. It felt like my voice left me along with my heart. "I have been getting messages threatening me from the same nunber. Little did I know, Wendy was the one in danger. Not me."

"Wait. Do you mean this is not the first time you receive these messages?" Detective Gerald took his glasses off in shook.

I shook my head.

"Did you report it?" He asked.

I nodded.

"Did the police find out who was sending the texts through an investigation?"

I humourlessly chuckled. "They never investigated."

The detectives briefly looked at each other, confused. "What do you mean?"

I looked at them, tears slowly falling down my face. "They said it was a prank," I shrugged, with a broken smile once I realised this could have been prevented had the cops done their job. "They said it's just my friends messing around with me. I told them it wasn't. They told me to stop wasting their time and they dismissed me."

The detectives looked puzzled and angry from this information. They shook their heads as they briefly whispered something to each other before they directed their attention back to me.

"We are so sorry to hear about how you were treated at the police department. We are going to look into this."

I shrugged in a "whatever" attitude. It was too late now.

They asked me more questions about the texts and what the texts were saying and more things about the texts.

Then they asked me if I had any enemies.

I thought about it long and hard but only Tammy-Lee popped up. She's the only person I know who hates me right now.

But it obviously couldn't have been her. She wouldn't kill a person, no matter how much hate she has for them.

She doesn't have it in her.

She loves me so she surely should know that killing Wendy is killing me.

And she wouldn't want to kill me.

Kill.

Wendy was killed.

My mind still wouldn't let it dawn on me that Wendy was gone.

She was killed.

I couldn't process this information so I rejected it instead.

But I honestly knew nobody who would hate me to such an extent that they would kill my reason for living.

I have never done anything as crue-

"Natasha," I whispered in horror once flashbacks of what I did to her hit me.

More tears brimmed my eyes once I realised it could only be her. "It was Natasha. She killed Wendy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

♡

A/N: Rest in peace Wendy :(.