SPENCER - spencer reid

E I G H T E E N

CHAPTER 18: BREAKING DOWN

Dr. Spencer Reid's POV

[January 30th, 2010]

I have been curled up under these wooden bleachers with the company of only mice and the decomposing head for what feels like weeks. Over the loud buzzing of the flies, I hear the sound of birds chirping outside, a sign that it is my second morning of lying in the same spot.

My vision fades in and out in black blobs and I ignore the stabbing pit of hunger that is spreading all throughout my stomach. My parched mouth yearns for just a drop of water, and my cracked lips struggle to suppress the scream that has been building since I first arrived here. I fight the siren-like call of sleep, buried in the fear that if I close my eyes for longer than an instant, I will never open them again.

Since I have lain here, the UNSUB had taken another victim, hanging him on the ceiling along with the others. Throughout my days of hiding, I can hear the UNSUB walking the halls, scouring the school building from top to bottom in an attempt to find me. I have considered changing my hiding spot to one where I would not be so vulnerable if discovered, but my legs and arms have succumbed to numbness, making it nearly impossible to move.

So here I stay, waiting to be caught.

Waiting to be killed.

The stench of rotting death has become familiar to me, the odor latching onto my clothes and seeping into my pores, consuming me. The beating of my heart is the only thing that makes me unlike the others.

I hear the UNSUB in the corridor outside of the gymnasium for the second time today; it's only a matter of time until he finds me. I hold my breath as he passes the door, not expecting for me to be in here with the repugnant blanket of murder drowning the room. As his footsteps fade away, I release the pent-up breath with tears stinging at my eyes.

I feel like a trapped animal who is being hunted: completely helpless. With this sense of abject hopelessness, I feel the walls of false strength and valor that I have been holding up crumble around me, revealing the fear and vulnerability that had accumulated. Without my mental walls of security, my emotions get the best of me and I begin to sob as quietly as I can manage.

But it isn't a soothing cry that bring relief. It's the kind that leaves you with a headache, a stuffy nose, and a chest filled with heaviness and pain. Teardrops stream across my upturned face and cling to the tips of my filthy hair before silently dripping onto the dusty wooden floorboards. Bitter cries wrack through my body, leaving me gasping for breath in the pause before the next bout of tears comes.

And as I lie there in the dust and salty tears, I find myself thinking of Rosemary. I think about her smile. I think about her laugh. I think about the way her eyes sparkle when she looks at me and only me. I think about how she likes her tea and her coffee. I think about the way her gentle mouth feels against my own. As my mind drifts, I can almost feel a ghost of her kiss brushing against my trembling lips.

As much as I want to stay in this imaginary sanctuary with her, I push the thoughts of her to the back of my mind, attempting to calm myself and dry my tears.

As I calm down, I come to the conclusion that I am not even crying for my situation. I am crying for my life... as if it even belongs to me at the moment. As of right now, my life completely belongs to the UNSUB, and I can only hope that the team finds him before has the chance to find me.