The Disappearance Of Will Black / REWRITING /

⸢ xviii ⸥

The man inside the room started the conversation by suggesting I be upfront and honest when answering his questions. He said that it would benefit the hospital and myself, saying the words as if he were reading a boring quote from a book. "You aren't here to get better, you're here to heal and forgive yourself for who you are. And we cannot start this process with false information."

His name was Doctor Wallace. He reminded me of my therapist, whose name popped up in the interrogation once or twice. I started by defending myself, claiming I wasn't involved in the murder of Will Black, even though I was starting to doubt it myself. Dr. Wallace just shook his head and told me to start over again.

I took a deep breath. I was going to stay here for a while, no matter what I said. Might as well get rid of the hallucinations in the process. So I told him what I told my therapist, confessing all the visions and explaining what I saw in detail. The blankness behind Dr. Wallace's expression just unsettled me further. 

"Sometimes I would see him bleeding, like..." I tapped on my temple, "over here. Every time I see him he seems to bleed more. It's weird." 

"Anything else about his appearance?" 

"He used to stutter a bit. Not so much that you could recognize it as soon as meeting him, but you get used to it. Sometimes people who stutter sound constantly nervous, but William always sounded comfortable, in a way. Anyways, he speaks fine when I see him." 

Dr. Wallace gave a small nod.

"Do you know how he looks, Doctor?" I asked him. I didn't know why I did. 

He nodded again, slowly. "I have."

"Then you see what I mean when I say that he's perfect. It's...it's unfair," I said, and Wallace's gaze shifted to my clenched fists. I quickly relaxed my hands, tucking them under my elbows. "Will had everything good going for him. It's unfair." 

"Did you envy him?" 

My head shot up so quickly I almost got whiplash. "You think I did it?" 

"I said no such thing, Sarah."

"Well, I didn't," I snapped, but my voice sounded far away, weak and pathetic. 

Dr. Wallace bent his head slightly to one side, eyes revealing something darker than interest. "Are you sure?" 

I felt the control running out of my voice. I tried to grasp certainty but it was too far away, too slippery. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The doctor searched my face, looking for a crack, for an opening, but I didn't budge. 

"I'm sure." My voice was stronger this time. 

"You don't sound so sure." His reply forced me to question what his true intentions were. Finally, I made eye contact with him. I was tired of convincing nobody.

"At this point, I'm not. The evidence, the hallucinations, and pointed fingers are seriously messing with my head. I don't remember what happened that night." Saying it only deepened my fear, reopening the wound I tried so hard to cover. "I only remember that I saw him - just before the fireworks - disappearing with Eric. Will saw me looking at him. It was so far away that I could've been imagining it, but you don't forget that kind of look." 

"And what kind of look is that?" 

I ignored him. A strange boldness rose to my thoughts."It's so out of context. He knew something was about to go down, I could see it on his face. Will always had a guarded expression, you know? Like the one you wear, Doctor Wallace. You people have things to hide, and in the end, it's what kills you."