Eight

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It’s amazing how fast a situation can change. Everything’s just amazing. It seems like the world’s just full of surprises. No matter how many times I think it can’t get any different, it still seems to amaze me in the most sickening way possible.

Sam had died twice on the way to the hospital. Now, she was in a room. They told us that she’d be fine. Somehow, it was hard to believe them. Because it was so recent, there was a good chance that she could live, apparently. 

Every second I was in my car behind the ambulance I was sure that she was dead. Every time they slowed down a bit, I imagined it was because they weren’t in as much of a hurry as they would be if she was still alive.

Though, she managed to make it here, and then they were saying that she was going to make it.

It was my fault. For the thousandth time, I killed a human being. Just add it to my serial killer list, and I’d be fucking set.

All my fault. 

It plagued my brain. It made it hard to think. Tracy said she could bring Angie over as soon as possible, which would be about an hour. I wasn’t sure how I was going to tell her what had happened.

Maybe I’d just tell her that Sam was really sick. Really, really sick. Maybe I wouldn’t tell her anything at all.

Marcie sat on the way other end of the waiting room. Her eyes were smeared with make-up. She tried calling Jay about four times, but he never answered. She’d have to find out sometime.

We all have to figure out sometime. The secrets that have been kept from us. The answer to the world. At some point, we’ve got to figure it out. 

I pulled out my phone, and waited for it to stop freezing.

My fingers twirled around the touch screen, and eventually tapped the internet button. It pulled up to a search engine, and I began to type ‘Parker Dullens’ into the search bar. Maybe I could find something on him. If it was that important, maybe it made a news article. At least I could possibly find him and ask him myself.

It froze up on a white screen, and I gritted my teeth. I was about ready to throw it across the room.

Actually, I was about ready to throw everything. The chair. The phone. The contents of my bag. Myself. Just throw my anger away. Throw the fear away. Throw it all away, and just get rid of it. That was what I really needed.

It started up in my temples, but I pushed it back down.

Oh, how I wished Austin was still around. Or maybe Juliet. Or Bryan. Even Cliff. Just anyone.

I felt bad for Cliff. I was the reason Austin died, and he blamed himself for it, too, like it was his fault. Everyday I seemed to be realizing more and more that I was alone.

Plus, I ended up hurting Cliff, because everyone knew that Ida bashed his brains in right before she killed herself. That was probably my fault. She probably had been told to by Austin, because I bet Austin had stuff against Cliff for sleeping with me. Though, it was my fatal decision. I should’ve been the one who got their head smashed. I should’ve been the one who nearly died. 

Although, unlike Cliff, I wished I wouldn’t have made a full recovery if that happened. I wished it killed me. That way, the world wouldn’t have to suffer because of me. So many people would still be alive. 

Sam would still be alive, because I was the one who wasn’t there for her. If Marcie had given her the news, then she would’ve comforted her. I tried running away, and I killed her myself.

I was a fucking idiot. 

Serial killer. I was a serial killer.

I looked down at the phone. It was finally starting to load. The first website that popped up was a news article. So was the second one. The third one. The fourth one. So on. So on.

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