Part 75

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---Ricky---
"Ricky, can I borrow your belt?" she'd asked. I'd nodded and sat up. My head had been pounding. My fingers had fumbled. I'd had what, three hours of sleep? She'd woken me up. Taken my belt.

And after that..?

Flashes of blurred images. Lightning. Distorted voices and a burning in my arm. Heat and then numbness.

I couldn't move my body but I could open my eyes. And it felt like I was underwater until all of the sudden I... Wasn't. It was as if I was just suddenly able to process thoughts. My motor skills were bad, but I was able to turn my head and look around. I was still in the room.

Philip's corpse was there. Via wasn't.

I tried to call out, and I struggled for a while, trying to shift into a sitting up position. Eventually, I gave up, my body falling back to the ground. I yelled for Via or anyone but no one came. I tried to dig through my memories of what had happened.

I'd fallen asleep with her in my arms. That's how it had been.

She'd woken me up, taken my.. Belt? I looked down to see it was indeed missing. And then I began looking around. Where the hell was it, and why did she need it?

Where the hell was she?

What had happened after that? I had no idea. And then it occurred to me I'd been drugged. I don't know why it took so long to sink in, maybe the drugs had fucked with my head? I tried to get my bearings as if I could just focus all my brain power on not being drugged then like magic I could get up and break out of this place.

I finally managed into a sitting position, resting my back against the wall. And thoughts swarmed and buzzed like bees in my brain.

It started with Via. A sick feeling in my gut of knowing John had taken her just like he said he would. And that she was gone off to fuck knows where. And I hadn't done shit to stop it.

It seemed to occur to me more and more that I was confined in a room with a corpse. A dead body, which was horrible on its own.. But I couldn't help thinking..

What if they never came back? And I was alone down here for days.. When do corpses start to smell? I got chills that went right down to my bones.

I know I'd flipped out when all this started. I'd thrown up and.. Cried. In front of Via. A pain stabbed through my skull that I took as the feeling of my dignity dying.

I had a better hold on myself now though, so I banished all of those thoughts from my head.

I kept my composure. And then everything changed.

There was yelling and banging that echoed down from upstairs. I started yelling because I thought it was Via. I struggled, finally able to get to my feet and over to the door.

They were the voices of people. More than one. Oh, fuck. Was she still here? Were these the bastards here to take her away? I didn't move and I fell silent. I didn't know what to do. Was there anything I could do?

And then someone walked downstairs. I moved away from the door, snaking along the side wall and waiting. There was a thump on the door and then the sounds of the locks being unclicked. The door opened, and for the second time within twenty-four hours, someone pointed a gun at me. But this time it was a police officer.

A man lowered his firearm when he saw me. And then he saw the dead body. He looked back to me.

"Are you okay, son?" he asked and when I nodded he moved over to examine what was once Philip. More people moved into the room. Once they saw I was defenseless and supporting myself against the wall they moved in, taking my arms and escorting me out like parents to a scared child.

I let them. And when their questions came, I answered. They basically carried me up the stairs and out of the building, my legs still not fully working. I told them everything. Especially what John was going to do with Via. It was raining outside, and it was coming down heavy. I sat under the awning and answered questions as we waited for the paramedics. I told them about breaking into the building. Being held at gunpoint. I told them everything Via had told me about where she was. And when they asked me to describe her, the officer I was speaking to, their face fell.

"Did you find her?" I asked, "Is she okay?" They cast their eyes away, away through the rain to the medical truck that pulled up to the curb.

My heart rate and blood pressure were elevated. Body temp normal. I was told my pupils were reacting normally to light and they, therefore, deduced that I was in good enough condition to not have to go to the hospital.

The drive in the police car was surreal almost. As if the events within the past twenty-four hours were a strange dream. They took my statement and then a lady with a tired, sad, creased face looked me in the eyes and told me.

Everything just stopped. And I'd never felt so cold. I didn't do anything. Didn't move or speak or breathe. She set a sympathetic hand on my shoulder and offered me a drive home.

I said the address, which I guess was enough because she took me home. The rain soaked me through on the walk to the door. And I guess my silence was deafening because she lingered in her car until the door closed behind me. And the tears came. And the screaming came. And I ripped the blankets from the couch. Kicked the chairs from the table and threw everything from the counters. I left a hole in the wall and I tore everything apart, including myself until I lay in pieces on the floor.

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