{Reader's POV}
Today my room appeared more duller than usual.
I was sitting upright on the hospital bed as I toyed with the music box in my hand. After the parents had left yesterday, I fiddled with the golden crank and turned it to see what would happen.
The song Pop Goes The Weasel played and as it reached it's climax the lid popped open. Curiously, nothing jumped out of the music box and left me to wonder if it was broken.
I shook my head and let out a heavy sigh. I knew it was the wrong time to be distracted by a music box, but after last nights events, instead of giving off a beautiful glow, the box now filled me with dread.
Police officers had barged into my room and startled me out of my sleep. Confused and baffled by their presence, I had clutched the toy box in my hands more tightly. It wasn't until one of the men explained to me what was going on that I regained my senses.
The news hit me hard and I began sobbing in front of the officers.
The nurses tried to soothe me but their efforts were in vain as I cried for the rest of the night. The little boy that I had risked my life to save, was now dead, him and along with his parents.
I didn't sleep a wink last night and now I laid on my hospital bed fiddling with the toy box the parents of the boy had given me the day before.
As I let my fingers run down the surface of the toy box, I felt a pang of guilt strike my heart. I felt awful for being so fearful of a gift two parents gave me for saving their son. This music box was supposed to comfort me and remind me that, even in their death, they were kind people, but my mind refused to shake off the odd feeling plaguing me with fear and doubt.
For no apparent reason, this box now sent shivers down my spine.
A knock echoed through my quiet, desolate room and startled me out of my daze. I raised my head and gave a soft 'come in!' to whomever was at the door.
A familiar face stepped into the room and his blue uniform sent a wave of confusion toward me. It was the officer from the other day who had asked me questions about that night in the alleyway.
"Officer Stan... What brings you here today..?", I asked timidly and earned a warm smile from the middle-aged man. He took off his hat and rested it on the seat next to him as he faced me.
"I just wanted to inform you that your parents are arriving in the afternoon, right before we transfer you", he said as he gazed over my pale face. I nodded my head and quickly smiled back.
"That's..g..great!", I replied clumsily and the officer returned my gesture with a frown.
"Aren't you happy to see your parents?". The question threw me off a little but I regained my calm and shook my head. "No, that's not it... it's just, what with the murders downstairs..", with that, the officers eyes widened now and he nodded his head apologetically.
"I understand, but don't you worry about that, we're not moving you to another hospital—", stunned by the officer's words, I jolted upright and stared at him in shock.
"You're not?" The officer shook his head and smiled. "That's too obvious, we're planning to move you to a hotel room, bring all the monitors and needles along too." His response sent a smile to my face and the thought of sleeping somewhere a little more homey felt great. The officer noticed my sudden change of mood and chuckled warmly.
"Well, now that that's been settled. I still have a few questions I need you to answer about the killer, you don't mind do you?" My smile suddenly faded and I stared at the officer blankly. "...Yeah, sure..", I replied a bit irritated, but nonetheless complied.
"Jamie said the killer looked like a clown. Claws, sharp teeth, wears only black and white, and has magical powers. Can you confirm this?"
An image of that night in the alleyway popped into my head and the description brought back the horrible memory of the clown. I gripped the bedsheets and gulped down. "...I'm sorry, I'm not sure why Jamie thinks he looks like that. I just saw someone wearing a lot of black. Like a hoodie or something..." The officer nodded his head and wrote down my statement.
"Do you think the killer drugged Jamie into thinking he looked like a clown?"
"...Maybe. I can't think of another reason why. Did you take samples?" The officer shook his head and knitted his eyebrows. "Died before we could." My breath hitched in my throat and I nodded glumly, although I was also a bit relieved.
"How would you describe the killer's demeanor?"
"...Sadistic."
"And you're sure you didn't see his face?"
"Yes."
The officer nodded his head and I leaned back in my bed. I let out a tired sigh and rubbed my aching temples. "...Alright, that's enough for today... You have a nice evening Miss (L/N)", the officer said with a smile and got up and left the room. I shook my head and dug my face into a pillow.
That confrontation might have been beneficial to the cop, but to me it revived a bunch of horrible fears I've been trying to suppress.
I knew very well that the killer was a monochrome clown, but how was I supposed to explain that to the officer without sounding crazy. Everyone knew I didn't suffer a blow to the head or was drugged by the killer, the only wounds that remained were the ones on my neck.
Although, that wasn't enough proof to show that I wasn't crazy, people could just say I was still shaken up—even though my blood pressure had gone back to normal—or that I was just traumatized by the murders. One way or the other, lying seemed like my only option.
It wasn't nice to keep everything to yourself though. I felt isolated in this room, I felt alone and vulnerable about this whole situation. I couldn't talk to someone about my fears or thoughts about this or I'd get sent to an asylum. Things looked bleak and now I was convinced getting fired from a job didn't mean the end of the world.
I let out another tired sigh and shifted my gaze back to the toy box that laid beside me on the bed. Ever since last night, every time I turn to look at this box, I could always feel a pair of eyes watching me. Call it paranoia or not, I was losing my grip on my sanity and the reality.
I myself couldn't understand or grasp what I had seen in the alleyway—Jamie saw it too... Maybe he understood more, but now that he was gone I couldn't get answers.
A knock resonated from the door and snapped me out of depression.
Again I muttered a soft 'come in' and the door lightly opened. There, to my surprise, were my parents, carrying balloons and flowers in their arms. A faint smile spread across my face as I saw the nervous faces of my parents.
My mom with her hair tied up in bun looked tired and exhausted, probably from the flight. My dad looked worse and a thought crossed my mind that he did all the driving.
"Honey! We're sorry we didn't come sooner. The flights were getting canceled because of the snow, you know how ugly it can get in Boston during winter", my mom said as she laid down beside me on the bed and hugged me. My dad let out a tired sigh and flopped down on the couch beside us. "Yup, we all love Boston...", he said bitterly and my mom and I shared a laugh.
I shifted on the bed to try and cover the toy box with the bedsheets. I gave my parents a small smile before I shook my head. "I know, it's okay", I said and my mom and dad nodded their heads.
Then I felt a gentle hand on my neck and I winced as it grazed over the bandages. "Where did you get these..?", my mom asked warily and sparked worry into my dad as he rose in his seat.
"...um.. The killer swung his knife a few times and tried to choke me..", I responded with the same explanation I gave to the doctor and my mom nodded her head glumly. My dad shook his head and continued to frown as he inspected the bandages more closely.
"It was bold of you to save the child but... You're still as reckless as ever honey", my dad said with a sigh and my mom nodded her head in agreement.
"He could have killed you—", my mom reminded me sternly and my dad was quickly angered by the words. "Could have? He WILL if the cops don't stop guarding her day and night! The damn psycho already killed the child and his parents, now he's after you again!" The room was filled with silence as my dad finished his statement.
I nodded my head and gripped my mom's arm tightly as the clown's face appeared in my mind. His sick, twisted laugh echoed in my head and I found myself shutting my eyes closed and trying to drown out his voice.
"Honey stop it, you're scaring (Y/N)..!", my mom said defensively and earned another sigh from my dad. His concerned face began to plague me with more fear and I half wished they hadn't shown up today to see me.
"What's this..?" My eyes widened as I watched my mom's arm glide across me and grab the toy box I tried to hide. She raised it so my dad could see it too and they both stared at it in awe. I quickly grabbed it from my mom and chuckled nervously.
"Uh..! Oh right...um, the child's parents gave me this as a thank you present for saving their son... Right before they died..", I said as I gazed at the box and felt another wave of fear strike me.
My mom and dad nodded their heads and we went back to saying nothing. Then my nurse stepped into the room with a few officers on each of her sides.
"I'm sorry for interrupting, but it's time to transfer your daughter."