Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Iknow my heart still beats, I feel it hammering inside of my chest. Yet, I feel dead inside. Time passes by. It might be minutes, it could be hours. Not that it really matters right now.
In the distance, a door slams shut, startling me. I look down at the only friend I ever had, peacefully resting in my embrace. All the warmth has seeped out of her, her skin lacking any colour.
I look around me, noticing the blood in which I am sitting, staining my clothes, changing the colour to an even darker blue. Something on the left of us catches my eye, it takes a minute for my brain to register what lies there.
A knife.
A big one as well. Strange that I didn’t notice it before.
The weapon that…killed my sweet Ami. It looks like one of the knives the chefs use to chop up vegetables.
I carefully lower Ami to the ground. “I’ll be right back, okay? I will take care of you. I promise.”
I push myself up, my legs unstable, and walk towards the knife. It’s covered in blood. Ami’s blood. I pick it up and take a closer look. It looks brand new, the blade still sharp. Someone stole it from the kitchen, but…why? Why would anyone hurt, no, kill her?
I hunch down, staring at the knife in my hand, unable to control the tremble coursing through my body.
It takes a couple of seconds for me to register that we’re not alone.
Someone else has entered the cafeteria and now walks towards us.
I eventually look up, seeing Mister Coldarion with a hard expression on his face.
It takes a moment for him to absorb the scene played out in front of him.
“Mister Coldarion, someone murdered…” no, I will not cry again, not right now. “Amira, she…” Oh fuck this, I am not an emotionless monster. And although I am an expert in keeping my emotions locked up in the closet inside my head, this is too much to keep in. “She is dead.”
There.
I said it.
But that makes it even more real.
A single tear rolls down my cheek.
Mister Coldarion remains silent, but the expression resting on his face is one of pure shock, terror and…is that fear?
His hand fiddles with something behind his back, before he raises both of his hands as if to show he means me no harm. As if I’m a scared animal. “Lower the weapon, Maily.”
Wait, what?
“No, you don’t understand, sir, I didn’t —”
He retreats one step as I take one closer. “You must remain calm. Put the knife down and step away from it.”
This makes no sense at all, does he really think… It’s at that moment that I realise what he is seeing, what massacre happened here.
Me, holding a knife, clothes drenched in blood. The red handprint that covers my cheek. The normally white floor now stained, bloody footsteps leading towards the kitchen and a puddle of blood surrounding me and… Ami, on the right side of me, a stab wound her cause of death.
This doesn’t look good. But he must know what she means to me. I would never hurt her. Not in a million years.
But he doesn’t know, because the look he is giving me right now is one full of fear. Fear for me, that I might hurt him as well.
I slowly lower the knife to the ground and push it aside with my foot, letting it slide across the floor in the puddle of blood.
Other patients filter through the doors. It must be near dinner time. Whispers crawl over my skin, their hushed words reaching my ears either way.
“Did she go into a frenzy…”
“She murdered…”
“It…about time…”
“…only a matter…time…”
“Murderer.”
Murderer.
But I didn’t. Did I?
No.
“Mister Coldarion, listen to me. I found her like this, I tried to stop the bleeding. I called for help, or at least I tried, but the network was offline.”
Mister Coldarion looks over his shoulder as the guards in black enter the cafeteria. They only intervene when something bad happens. Something that endangers the safety of others. Something like…murder.
“Be that as it may, you are the only one on the scene of crime. Did you see who did this?”
I open my mouth and close it again, like a fish gasping for air. I shake my head.
“Yes, that’s what I thought.”
The guards are doing their best to keep the crowd outside of the cafeteria, but it’s nearly impossible and maybe they want to let the others see what happens, to set an example.
“What is going on?”
Doctor Herbert. Exactly the person I need right now. The men in black move closer, forming a circle around me. I ignore them.
“Maily?” Doctor Herberts voice full of concern. “What happened?”
I swallow audibly, taking a deep breath before I start talking.
“I’m not sure, honestly. The power was off for some reason, I couldn’t turn on the lights, I stumbled on a…
body and did my best to help with minimum sight.
” I bite my lip, hoping the pain might clear up my overemotional mind.
“As soon as I knew someone was hurt, I tried to call you, but the phone couldn’t make the connection. The lights suddenly went on and…”
I wave my hand towards where Ami lays, unable to speak out loud what everyone can see.
Doctor Herbert’s gaze sweeps over the room, over Amira’s body, over me, drenched in blood. A sad understanding flickers in her blue eyes. “I see,” she murmurs. Then, softly, “All will be fine, Maily. I believe you.”
A breath shudders out of me. Those three words hold me together.
“May I?” she asks gently, stretching her arms toward me.
I flinch and step back, instinctually. She pauses, waiting, giving me the time to make a choice. The tension drains from my shoulders.
She pulls me into a hug, her jasmine scent and warmth enveloping me. I didn’t realise I was that cold. The sob I’ve been holding back finally breaks free.
“I’m sorry for your loss, little dove,” she murmurs, stroking my hair. “You did everything you could.”
Her voice is a balm, her presence an anchor. The guards ease back, giving us space. I squeeze my eyes shut, unwilling to face the reality of what happened. I take a breath—
And pain lances through my neck. A sharp sting, quick and precise. My eyes fly open. I jerk away just enough to see Doctor Herbert’s sorrowful gaze.
“I am truly sorry, Maily,” she whispers. “I have no other choice.”
Realization slams into me. Too late.
My limbs go numb. My knees buckle.
Doctor Herbert lowers me to the ground, just as I did minutes earlier to Ami. If I could stretch out my hand, I would be touching hers. But my muscles don’t listen to the signal I’m sending them.
I turn my head, my vision tunneling, the numbness spreading. Ami. My kind and fierce friend. Her face is peaceful and even in death, her beauty is unmatched.
I drink in every detail, committing her to memory.
It’s the last thing I see before darkness consumes me whole.