Chapter Thirty-Five>>

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"The simple things are also the most extraordinary things, and only the wise can see them."

― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist



Chapter Thirty-Five>>



"The police said they found pictures of Allison and you at Matt's house. It was as if he was dating both of you." The guidance counselor informed me but I was barely listening.

My heart thumped rapidly in my chest. "I never gave Matt the intention-at least I didn't mean to-that I liked him. It's always been Stiles and I thought he knew that."

"Why do you think Matt trapped you in the station?"

The image of Matt standing in the doorway of the office holding the gun at us flickered through my brain. Then it changed to Matt being plunged into the dark abyss, the pain he must have felt as the oxygen left his lungs for a second time, the terror that plagued his mind and flooded his heart. How he must of been terr—

"Jenna?"

My gaze shifted back to Ms. Morrell. "Huh?"

"I asked why you think Matt trapped you in the station?" She repeated staring at me, analyzing me which made my skin crawl. I never have liked shrinks.

I sighed. "He was scared, mad, vengeful, and we knew."

"Knew what?" She questioned.

My attention went back to my hands, playing with the tips of my fingers, mentally counting just how many lives Matt had taken. "Stiles and I have been looking for weeks. We've been searching for pieces of the puzzle to solve the murders. Why someone would want to kill all those people." 

My throat closed up as I remembered Matt pressing his foot against a paralyzed Stiles's chest. Who knows what he would have done if we hadn't stopped him. What would have happened to Stiles? "I don't even know how we knew it was him or what led us to it." I muttered. "But somehow he knew that we were on to him." The lump in my throat grew as I thought back to the massacre Matt created in the hallway of the station. "He k-killed all those people, just so no one w-would find out." My voice broke, the tears welling into my eyes.

"What are your feelings toward the situation now?"

I scoffed when she placed the tissues in front of me before grabbing one. I didn't expect to cry today. Did I mention I hate therapists? 

"If you're trying to get me to say that I feel sorry for him then yeah, I do." Peering up at her, I noticed the slight surprise in her eyes before it was masked away to a void emotion.

I tore my eyes away from her focusing on the rip in my jeans continuing my explanation. "I'm not sorry that he's gone, but I am sorry that he died like that. After that night, I never wanted to see him again but even though he killed all those people in cold blood, he didn't deserve to die like that. To have his worst fear lived out again." I dropped the frayed edge of my jeans glancing up at Ms. Morrell. "Have you ever almost drowned before?"

I didn't wait for her to answer. "I have. I was six and we were at the lake, we used to go there every summer before my mom passed. Dad and I were fishing off the dock but we ran out of bait. He told me to wait right there and he'd go get some. I did as I was told at first, waiting for him to return. I was fiddling with the mood ring that my brother had won out of one of those twenty-five cent ball machines they have at restaurants. It was a bit big but I loved it. It was in the shape of a dolphin and was always this slight blue color while the edges were green. I'm pretty sure it was always broken." I chuckled as my fingers absentmindedly traced my right middle finger where the ring used to sit.

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