Detective in Love

Chapter 15

"Chloe?" I say her name.

"Yea?" 

"What happened to him?" I ask her.

"Are you asking me about Tim?"

"Yea. During lunch, when his name suddenly came up, all of you went quiet. What happened to him?" I ask her, knowing about how he had died, I can't still let her suspect me for knowing anything beforehand.

"He... he killed himself. One day before you got here." she answers me.

"You guys were friends?" Once again, a question to which I know the answer.

"He was my best friend. He still remains. I loved him. It was more than just a friendship."

"Chloe you don't have to answer me if you don't want to. But why would he have done something like that? Was he somehow-"

"Suicidal?" she sits up on her bed, switching on the lamp that's on her nightstand.
"No. No he wasn't."

I sit up on my own bed. "How did he even do it?"

"He slit his wrists, using a knife. We had breakfast that morning, and were to go to the  hall. He had left his book in his room. He said he would go and fetch it, and join us right away. I can still remember the smile on his face, the way he ran back to his room so that he could come back and join us soon after. Except he didn't. He was taking too long. So Jordan went to look for him. And there he was. Lying on the washroom floor, drenched in his own blood." I can feel her voice change, into a sad tone now.

"But the time gap? It would've taken time. Right?"

"It wasn't one cut. There were many deep cuts, the bleeding wouldn't stop anyways." she replies. "Tim wouldn't have killed himself. He wasn't suicidal. Despite being stuck in this place, we were happy. What's interesting is the fact that he had access to a knife. It was a fruit knife. Where would he have found one of those?"

"That does seem fishy." I respond.

"This place is weird. I tell you. It's not the same anymore." she switches off the light and lies down on her bed. "Get some sleep now. Tomorrow we have to go see Doctor Brown. Goodnight Jane."

"Goodnight Chloe." I replying, lying down on my bed and covering myself with the sheets.
It was sunny this very morning, enough to make my head throb, and it's freezing cold now.

I can't help but get lost in my thoughts. This seemed like a mere suicide case that I was investigating. However it now seems more complicating than just another suicide.

I doze off, into a heavy sleep before I know it.

I wake up the next morning, with so many questions in my head.
But more importantly, today I'm supposed to go see the doctor. I'm supposed to pretend to be a schizophrenia patient. It couldn't be any more difficult than it already is. Wouldn't a psychiatrist be able to realise it sooner or later, that I'm just faking it? Apart from Tiffany, no one else here knows who I am. That I am a detective, undercover.

Chloe heads inside for her appointment, to see Doctor Brown.
Meanwhile,  kyle and myself, we are seated outside the doctor's room, along with a few other patients.
I stand up and walk over to look outside, through the window wall.
I can barely see through the thick layer of fog hiding from me what lies beyond, out of this place.

I've never been here before. Obvious enough!
It's getting cold again. I fold my arms, hugging myself.

"Here! Put this on." Kyle puts his hoodie on my shoulders, covering me halfway from the cold.

"Thank you!" I thank him.
Little did I know him. He wasn't very talkative like the rest of his friends. Or maybe it's all because a new stranger like myself had joined their clan and he was still getting used to having me around.

For a while, there is pin drop silence between the two of us. The only sounds audible, a slender girl as pale as a sheet of white paper filling a plastic cup with water at the dispenser, and the distant mumbling noises from inside Doctor Brown's room. 

I turn to look at Kyle and notice the scar on his right hand wrist. 
Guess I've been staring at it for longer than I realise.  "Go ahead. Ask away." He's still looking out through the window, not at me.

"What happened?" I ask him, now lifting my gaze to look at his face. And I realise I'm being too direct. "If only you wanna answer." I add.

"Do you really wanna listen to some sob story?" 

"Only if you're willing to share it with me. Then yes."

"My mom was dating this guy back then. Roger." He turns to face me, arms folded, and leans on the wall. But he does not bring his eyes up to my face, stares at the floor rather. 
"He used to hate me, for no actual reason. Used to beat me up, curse me."

"And that's how you ended up with that scar?" I ask him, realising deep down inside, that I'm scratching an old wound. 

"Mmm-hmm." he nods. 

I nod back, lowering my gaze to the floor now.

A few seconds later, I can feel him lifting his gaze. He straightens up, still leaning on the wall.

"He used to do some real ultra cruel step dad shit. Like you see in movies. And however he treated me, my mother was probably aware of. But she pretended not to know any of it. I guess it was easier for her that way, than to have him against her, hunting her down." he adds out of the blue. "One day he raised his hand to slap my little sister, I could take it no more. So, I pushed him down and threw my fist at him. My sister, Clary ran up to me, and she said 'Kyle? Please don't.' So I took Clary by the hand to her room, leaving Roger there, with my mother who ran to his side, looking at me like I was the criminal."

"How old is she? Your sister?" I ask him.

"Sixteen." He responds.

"She must be the luckiest little girl, having a brother like you."

"Not really." He looks like he would disappear into a puddle of tears if he gave in. "That night, when I took her to her room, to tuck her in bed, she told me about this one wish she had, and a promise she needed me to make, 'I wish we could go back to living happily like we did back then, when dad was with us. Can you promise me, that you will always be by my side? You are all I have left now.' and like the useless guy I am, I couldn't keep my promise. Roger that a**hole had me sent here for what I did to him. He created a whole different story where he was the victim and me the kid who beat him up."

"Well that's just-" I start.

"F*cked up?" he cuts me off.

"Yea." breaking eye contact, letting my eyes wander on their own.

"What's worst is not knowing how she is. I miss her very much, it kills me a little more each day. I feel like a dead man walking." he sighs, the sad expression all over his face.

I no longer know what to say to him. That he'd be okay? That he'd get to see his sister again very soon? That she is doing fine? Or that I'll help him once I'm done with my case?

That's right, my case...