Insane - Who Are You To Judge? (Gripping Psychological Thriller)

Avery

It takes me a few seconds to process what he is saying. What does he mean by this? See what coming? Why is he wearing such a smug little grin?

Then I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as they detect the warm breath. I recognise that breath.

I don't want to turn around. I don't want to face it. I don't want it to be true. It can't be true.

"Avery."

My knees buckle as I hear his voice and I can't control the river flowing from my eyes. I stare at my feet. I fixate on them. I can't look anywhere else. I can't look at either of them.

I see James, though, in my peripheral vision. I see the grin smeared across his face. Seeing how much he enjoys this makes the tears fall harder.

His hands slide down my shoulders and gently grip my arms, helping me to my feet. As soon as my brittle legs will take my weight, I throw Him away from me.

"Don't touch me!" I scream through sobs.

Though my vision is completely blurred by the salt water filling my eyes, I can see the tears fall onto his face. "I'm sorry, Avery. I'm so sorry."

"How could you do this?" I whisper, since I can't will my voice to produce any significant sound.

"I'm so sorry...I didn't want to do this," he weeps, "I'm so sorry."

Through the ringing in my ears, I hear James sigh, "Well since you two are incapable of communicating properly, I'll just explain, shall I?" The joy in his voice rips right through me. "Your boyfriend here got into a little bit of trouble, didn't you?" James addresses Him, with a patronising expression and high-pitched tone before turning back to me. "He was arrested for being involved in a knife fight back in March. Now, usually, he wouldn't be looking at that bad of a punishment, but this knife fight happened to be involved in an ongoing drug investigation. Do you know what that means, Avery? That means as a detective I could have planted all the evidence on him. I could've put him in jail for the rest of his sorry little life."

"I had no choice." He sniffles. "I couldn't spend the rest of my life in prison. I didn't know I would get so...attached."

"Aw, poor soul. In case you haven't quite caught on yet, Avery, his meeting you wasn't a coincidence. He wasn't struck by your beauty and hypnotised by your magnificent eyes. He knew where you'd be. He knew what to say."

"What was the aim then?" I turn to James, merely trying to avoid his eyes. "You wanted me to fall in love and then get betrayed? So I would know how it felt?"

He laughs. "Oh no, that was just a bonus. No, every single time he's been with you he's been wearing a wire. His instructions were very simple; get close enough to you so that you trust him, then slowly coax out your secret."

I gawk at Him. "So you knew all along?"

"Oh no, don't get all hot-headed. I didn't tell him what secret to get from you, I just told him that you were key in an ongoing investigation. You really think he would've taken a second look at you if he knew your secret from the beginning?" He laughs. "That's quite something, I thought you were supposed to be smart. But anyway, you can never trust anyone, can you? You never trusted him enough to tell him – even when I made him a target."

My eyes quickly flicker onto his, confused. But in the millisecond that our eyes meet, I know what he did. He lied. He lied to protect me.

"You know—" I turn my attention back to James as he starts speaking again. "After years and years of therapy sessions and drugs and Martha telling me to get on with my life, I really wanted to. At first, I changed my name because I wanted to avoid the association with what happened. You moved away – by the time you came back everyone had forgotten about the Grimm Reaper's first victims. But I have always been here. I had to change my name. If I didn't, I would forever be the poor little boy who lost his parents and escaped death. I wanted to do some good for the world. I thought the only way for me to do that was by becoming a police officer. Martha and I had just got married, I was about to go to my first day on the job. My life was good. I was happy."

Since my tears have now calmed themselves down, I ask, my tone trembling more than I want it to, "So what changed?"

"I saw you," he replies. "I saw you across the coffee shop, sitting in the corner, tapping away at your computer. Even though I hadn't seen you in nine years, I instantly knew who you were. As soon as I looked at your face, all those therapy sessions never happened. I was that nine-year-old boy again, walking into this living room and finding his parents. Dead. All the rage came back. I realised that the only way to move on was to take you down."

I take a deep breath, collecting myself. "Well, you played a really good game. I'm very impressed. But it's time for this to end."

I pull out my phone, bring up the video and press play.