My Ex boyfriend Is A Pycho

Chapter 35-Confession Time

The voice froze me.

"Don't even breathe," the voice was deeply crooked compared to the first time.

I did as instructed raising my left hand.

"Your right," he had no idea I couldn't feel it.

"Its.. Its broken."

Clearly, he or she was not a threat. He or she sounded frightened in the tone of her last words.

Swallowing lumps of saliva down my oesophagus, I decided to swivel my head. The more I did, the more the cold touch on my neck inched away. It was a guy.

I didn't quite know him but what I did know was the fact that he was a student since he was in school uniform. He had angled a guitar right at my head. He didn't seem threatening nor murderous.

In between his legs a colourless liquid wetting his trouser flowed downwards, followed by a fresh smell of wee. He trembled like one that was stored in a fridge for ages, sweat rivuleting out of every inch of his body, his huge round glasses almost falling off.

"Are you a bad guy?" He quizzed in a trembling tone.

"No."

"That's what all bad guys say. How do I trust you?"

"If I was a bad guy your head wouldn't be with you right now."

"Right," he reluctantly dismounted the guitar. "I'm Fred," he angled his hand forward, but it was too sweaty.

I grinned. I couldn't shake such a soaked hand.

He understood and shook his head in return. Toddling backwards to the room where he had come from, he peered inside. "Guys I think she is a normal student," he whispered, but I still could hear him.

A consoling familiar face peered. Camilla.

I heard my heart beat in joy a smile automatically plastering itself on my face. Meeting a person I knew, after all I had gone through and having known that one of my best friends was still alive was a miracle that I was more than willing to embrace. Literally.

She was holding a trumpet which I presumed was for difference. Apparently, a part of her left thigh was injured by the way she had covered it in a white sterile gauze.

She smiled back in the same bliss and limped for me dropping the trumpet. I scuttled for her and opened my left arm for a tight hug.

She hugged back giving me the warmth that I was craving for for ages. It felt great, it felt at home, some joyful tears forcing themselves out of my eyes.

"T, your alive."

"Ouch, don't touch that," she wasn't informed that my right was on fire.

"Sorry," she apologized letting go.

She took the trumpet that she had dropped and pushed me inside the room she had come from. It was the instrumentals room. No wonder they had such environmental-related weapons.

Trumpets, violins, piano, flute, drum sets, saxophones, mouth organs, cellos, xylophones, clap boxes, bugled, harps, keyboards, name them, haphazardly arranged on each corner of the room. The walls were soft, brown, wooden, and well curved edges.

Under the dimly lit florescent light, I was sheerly delighted to see Isabella. Though she looked pallid and had more injuries than the last time that I checked, she was still alive.

She was seated on the floor and smiled weakly after noticing me. I scuttled for her and gave her a lose hug, I wouldn't want to pain her more. Seating besides her, she swiveled her head grinning.

Fred closed the door and pushed the piano that was besides it against it followed by a few more instruments.

"She's lost a lot of blood, but we did first aid to her," Camilla stopped for a moment. "Have you seen Cole? He did that to her," she enquired the quiz that seemed to have slammed her abruptly pointing at Isabella's belly.

Her belly was wrapped with sterile gauze severally the bottom of her shirt ripped off like a crop top.

"In return she managed to scratch his leg," Camilla added.

"Yeah," I answered somberly and guessing from the tone she knew what happened to him.

We silenced for a while.

"Where is Brian?" The thought flushed through my mind.

Camilla did not answer but the silence did.

"I could ask the same about Alma."

"I lost her," I answered weakly.

I noticed Alma's phone on one of the pianos.

"You went back for the phones?"

"Yeah and they are not working, there is no service. FYI Wade had preinformed us about Cole's betrayal."  She shoved out a phone from her pocket. "Here," she handed it to me.

"We met Gwen. No, her corpse. Since her phone was facial locked, we just showed it her face before we could unlock Alma's for her picture."

Your best friend is one of us. Was the first text that caught my eyes. I wished I had read it sooner. Presumably, it was sent at the time we ditched detention.

You have done a good job, my real name is Arnold Gravestone. Was a text that followed the exposure of Cole's real identity.

"Does this make sense to you?" Maybe Camilla knew something.

"Perfectly, remember when the old guy said that he forgot the name of Hillary's brother. I think its Wade and the other guy with a black coat is Hillary."

So my assumption that they were two psycho murderers was legit.

"So, you are insinuating that Wade is an ugly aged monster. How?"

"Surgery or something. How do I know?"

Arnold Gravestone didn't ring a bell but Camilla might have been right. Maybe Wade needed us to discover his back ground before he would kill us.

The idea of dating an ugly looking aged man for over a month gave me chills. Though a part of me thought it was true, I really wished it wasn't.

Suddenly three dots dancing appeared at the screen. He was typing something.

I felt every single inch of my body go numb, every hair strand erecting, and my heart vanishing leaving an abyss in the left side of my chest.

Filled with curiously, I stared at the screen unblinkingly waiting for the next thing to happen.

"Taylor, what is it?" Alma jumped from the high seat she had been seating on and joined for me.

Seating on my left and Isabella on my right, we each curious than the other, we watched as the dots waved.

Dancing for over what seemed like a decade, the three dots disappeared. The curiosity kept us silent even a few minutes after. Like his thought had backpedaled, there was yet no text sent.

I didn't quit starring at the screen, my curiosity was way higher than the highest mountain, neither did any of my friends.

Suddenly, the dancing dots reappeared after a while. They kept on dancing till a confession that left me breathless appeared.