Such The Liar Painted Me

8. The Lies and The Liar

After my little outburst, I'd not exactly scared Matt away, but it tooktwo weeks for the hospital staff to discharge me. They were convinced that neurons in my brain were blasting and yada yada.

I had woken up to find my room littered with cards, small letters written by distressed friends and family members. My mother came to visit me too, during which time I tried to act sleepy. Well, the morphine was doing a good job too...

I couldn't act normal around anyone; even the beeping of the monitor beside me felt unreal. Given the fact that there wasn't any collateral damage, they were worried I'd spiralled down in life, and couldn't climb my way up.

So, everyday, like a little dummy, I visited a sympathetic therapist, and I could've protested too, yet I was busy finding my own answers. I was dangling between sleepiness and the reality and I thanked my fate that at least, I wasn't attacked by those sensations again.

After my discharge, I with a renewed vigour acted fine for mom and banged Sophie's door open when I turned off the lights for the night. But the bed inside wasn't slept in and dust had begun to collect. Either she'd went for a sleepover, or she was actually dead.

Or something was really wrong.

That night my wide eyes didn't catch a wink, because of which, when my distressed lab partner the next morning at school dragged me towards the Chemistry professor, I let her.

She was practically in tears by the time we reached the professor's room.  He was busy grading papers, his glasses perched low on his nose, instead he waved his hand towards a thin book that was lying beside him.

Inside, as I scanned the contents, was a grave mistake done. "Sir...sir, this is Sophie's picture, you know, this isn't me. I and my partner worked together on this one, yet you've only given the full credit. These are Sophie's marks."

"Weird." He put his pen down. "It...must be a mistake on my behalf. I will recheck it. It's just that you twins used to mess up my papers always. I wonder why I gave you so much marks, I should've known it was you."

I stared at him. Seriously? He wants to talk about crazy marks now?

"It's just that, I don't know, this result is marked for this year. Maybe I confused your name, or something. I don't remember how, but there was once a time when Sophie and Della were partnered together, and then Della never showed up and Sophie took all the credit for the hard work.

"I thought it'd happened again," he said, placing the result back on his desk. "I apologise, it must be my aging memory."

"Wait. I mean, Della never showed up? What're you talking about, professor?"

His thoughtful expression, in response, was to search when all of this had ever happened. "Hm... it's strange. I was sure it had happened recently, though, yet I don't know when. I mean, Miss Rosé died after that and Sophie took the credit...no, no, it's all messed up."

I could've let out a whoop, now knowing I wasn't the only one who was confused. So my head dipped in understanding and we stood up to leave, having reassured my partner she wouldn't have anything to lose.

"Uh, Miss Dee, whatever I said, I guess you should forget. It just doesn't make sense for me to say something about it, I mean, Sophie died before Della. So this couldn't have happened."

My grasp at the knob grew slack, but I still greeted him a good afternoon and attended my classes as usual. Is it Sophie's ghost which is with me?

Speaking of which,  I ditched my lunch break and went to the library, again avoiding any meetings with my friends. God, I so miss them.

Opening the rusty-at-the-hinges door open, I faced the librarian, a wrinkly old lady with a good sense of humour and herself a Wikipedia. "So, it may seem weird, Mrs. Bonnard, but I kinda wanted to know whether my sister ever did shifts here."

"She didn't; the only times she actually was here for visiting that corner aisle for rendezvous with her boyfriend."

I followed the departing lady, helping her with books until she finally returned to her desk. "Who? I mean, the boyfriend."

"Um, that up-to-no-good Tyler Dale. Ginger, freckle-less, and...hm, do you remember there was a time the police visited the school?"

I placed my elbows on her desk, interested. "Why? I guess I remember, but it's all hazy, I believe."

"Oh dear, didn't your mother tell you? There was a drugs bust," she said, pausing and taking a moment to look at me, squinting her eyes. "You know--Tyler and Sophie. They were caught. But again, they were left off the hook easily, given the teenagers-do-this crap."

"But I guess they again took it quite a notch, didn't they, at the last party?"

I stilled, disassembling my posture. "Which party?"

"How am I to know that stuff, dear? I came to know it was some end of the year party, at a Madeleine McCann's house. Oh, she was my neighbour and it irked me so much, you know, that party. Huff."

"What happened next, ma'am? Were they ever found again?"

"Oh, your sister drove away, dear. I fear you gave your sister too much credit and trust. But I'm glad you see the light now," she said, smiling and patting my arm.

I gripped the edges of the seat beside me. But I was the one who drove with Sophie that night...after party at Mads...did something happen there?

Guess I was about to know if this was some supernatural business and that whether the lies my sister was feeding me with were finally coming to light.