Through Her Shattered Eyes ✔

Chapter 12

I still only have my driver's permit, back from when I was in the tenth grade. But since it's daylight outside, I think I'll be okay. I put the shift stick in reverse, backing out of the driveway. Then, I put it in drive and drive out of my neighborhood, taking the street that leads me to the I-85 ramp.

I drive around Peachtree Street NE at least three times, looking for Clifton Avenue. All these backstreets and roads my father's GPS is taking me through are making it difficult to find the place. It tells me I'm near the street but when I turn on the road where the GPS wants me to turn, it then tells me to make a U-turn.

Luckily, though, it isn't long before I finally come across Clifton Avenue and make a left. I pass down a street of nice but old-looking houses. Soon, the hospital building comes into view. I read the words above the automatic doors: Clifton Avenue Medical Center. I drive around the back where the parking lot was. It's not really a big area but it somehow manages to squeeze in a lot of vehicles. When I turn the corner, I spot Nathan's cop car and an empty spot next to him where I ease the car into. I open the driver's side and get out, closing the door behind me. I walk around to get to the passenger side of Nathan's car and knock on the window.

He looks up from a manila folder he has on his lap, then smiles at me. He unlocks the door, and I hop in.

"Good morning," he greets as he looks back down.

"Morning," I answer monotonously, already itching to see what documents the folder contains.

"You know, you could sound a little more excited to see me."

"More excited? What are we, dating?"

Nathan shrugs. "We used to."

I shift awkwardly. "Um, anyway...what are the papers there?"

"Well, these are from the morgue. From what I've been reading, it states your donor was from Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Apparently, she moved here to start college. Her name was Erika Stryder."

"Erika Stryder?" I echo. "Can I see the folder?"

"Of course. Here you go."

Nathan hands me the folder. I take it, settling it in between my legs. Attached to the folder are a few papers describing the condition Erika was in when she arrived at the morgue and a medium-sized, square picture of her. I remove it from the paper clip, wanting to get a closer look. She's very pretty. Her hair is dark, black as night. It's long and straight, too, with bangs hanging just below her eyebrows. Her eyes gleam with a bright blue and her skin is slightly tan, like she'd been kissed by the sun.

Setting the photo back in the folder, my eyes wander to the report from the morgue. It reads that Erika was born in April of nineteen ninety-six and died in June of this year, two thousand fifteen, at one thirty-five a.m. She passed away when she was only nineteen; she was only a year older than me. Gosh, that's so young. Too young to die.

One thirty-five was also the time she passed away. That would explain my waking up at that time. I continue to read the report. Erika was biracial: half Caucasian, half Hispanic. It reads when they received her body, they found bruises on her neck and face, indicating she was strangled and beaten. There were traces of semen found on her, as well.

Which means she was raped, just like in my dream. The dream I've been having is actually Erika's murder, I've been seeing what killed her. All my theories I contemplated before were true.

Holy crap.

"Does the report say where Erika's body was found?" I ask.

"No, the hospital record doesn't contain any of that kind of information, it's just the report on the condition of the corpse," Nathan replies.

"Okay." I lean back against the seat, thinking. "This is like my dream. Erika was trying to leave the room when that guy grabbed her arm and started to...you know." He nods. "I feel she's speaking to me through my eyes. She's giving me bits of her past life before she was killed. Nathan, I want to find who killed her. I want to know," I say.

"I'd like to, too. But...the only problem is that this murder took place in Fulton County and our jurisdiction isn't there. I really won't be able to do much," Nathan says.

"So? Aren't you able to find files or something on murders and just take a look through them? I mean, really, the only people who are interested in this murder is us."

"It's not that I can't. I can, but I need permission from my boss or the place that the murder took place in first. I can't just look through files without the consent of the county."

I sigh exasperatedly. "Well, are you able to get permission from them, then? Just make up something, like you're working on that case?"

"I'll see what I can do and I'll let you know, all right?"

"Fine."

I don't move from where I am. I remain in Nathan's car, lost in thought. If he can get into Erika's murder file, that'll be great. I really need to know the name of where it took place.

I don't know what prompts me to do so, but from my peripheral vision, I glimpse at Nathan, only to find him doing the same thing. I quickly avert my eyes, turning my attention to the hospital building.

He clears his throat suddenly.

"Well...I need to be heading back down to the police station. My shift is coming up soon. I'll give you a buzz if I find something."

"Sure, that'll be fine." After reaching for my purse, I grab the lever to open the car door but it's locked. "Um, door?"

It takes a second for Nathan to realize what I'm talking about.

"Oh, sorry." He unlocks it for me and I climb out. "Bye, Alexis."

"Later," I reply, flashing him the quickest of small smiles.

I shut the door behind me and make my way to my Mom's van. I get inside and put the shift stick to reverse, then drive, going towards the ramp back to Fayetteville.