Chp.9

She's standing there, in front of me but no one says a word. Too shocked, confused. Her eyes drift from me to the note I'm holding. I quickly scrunch it in a ball, my hands shivering for some reason. And my headaches growing in my brain as if it's tumor. My breathing is ragged as I slip the note in my pocket.

"Hi," She finally says and she smiles even though it's skeptical. "What are you doing here, this time in the morning?"

I frown at her and realize that she didn't read the note, did she? Maybe I was hallucinating or something and just imagined it. I take out a long breath and say,

"Shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?"

She lifts up a paper bag, and sighs, "My cycle is wrecked and old. I'm on my way to Mr. Walker's to see if he wanted some parts."

"This early?" I raise my eyebrow.

She shrugs, "I prefer morning walks."

I nod, even when that didn't make any sense. We stand there awkwardly and I feel the USB in my hands as I press it tightly.

"What are you doing here though?" She questions before grinning, "Waiting for the school bus?"

I can't help but smile at that, "No, I am actually on... my way to the library. Need to finish my homework."

I show her my USB and she nods knowingly. But then frowns,

"But isn't the computer over there gone for repair?"

"You ask a lot of questions." I mutter to myself.

"I know." She grins, hearing me and I flush with embarrassment. "I get that a lot."

"I'm sorry," I say, sheepishly, "I didn't mean it that way."

But she waves it off, "I saw you coming from the hill and thought I should tell you something."

I scowl, "Tell me what?"

And her face grows serious, "Ander Marsh? He keeps on saying how he'll get you. He's looking for you all over the town. Thought I should warn you."

I roll my eyes, "Yeah, he does that sometimes."

"Aren't you worried?" She asks.

"Hardly." I mutter.

I feel the note in my pocket and I want to hurry back to my house. And my skin is so hot and I regret not taking the tablets and I want to curse myself for that but I don't in front of her. I feel dizzy but try to shake it off.

She notices, "Are you okay, Lukas? You look… pale."

"Yeah..." I say, dryly, "Just a little dizzy. I better go home now that the library isn't an option."

She nods, heaving the bag closer to her, "Yeah I think you should."

I scratch the back of my neck, awkwardly saying, "Thank you for…uh… warning me, I guess."

"Anytime." She stares at me, as if studying me. Like she's trying to see if I'm hiding something. I give her one last nod before turning to leave when I hear her say, quietly,

"Just so you know, I never believed what Skylar said about your sister."

I look at her and can't help but smile a thank you. She smiles back and I feel so glad that someone's with me. Even though that someone is Skylar's sister. If you were here Jesse, I wonder what you would have said. Something like, 'I knew all along' or 'I'm not surprised'. Well, I'm just surprised. And I can't help it but I feel like she's someone I can trust. Someone who'll be a good friend.

But I freeze, remembering the note. The list. Her name written on it. My name written on it. What did it all mean?

I pick up my pace, nervous about everything. Wanting to go home. And my feet feel wobbly as I stagger on. Scared but feeling a rush of win at the same time.

I enter the house, breathing through my iced lungs. I slowly walk to the kitchen drawer, my head bursting. I took out the tablets and washed them down with water. I sit on the floor, tired, taking the note on the pocket.

These names. It's no coincidence. Because the names. They're only of the kids connected to those girls. I was your brother, Sophie's Skylar's sister. And Alexa Braham was step, wasn't she? Josh had a cousin. And Ander? I think he was Susan's brother.

I look up, still frowning, and see... my laptop right on top of the kitchen table. I manage to smile a relief. Because Mom did it. She got it back from Dad. I got up, feeling less woozy. A note is attached to it in Mom's handwriting.

He didn't mean what he said.

That's all what she wrote in her curly handwriting. There were a lot of things he yelled yesterday. I frown wondering which one he didn't mean. I pick up the laptop, and carry it to my room. Placing down the USB with it on my desk.

I'm close. Very close. But I feel like the closer I'm getting, the further you go. I don't understand what you want, Jesse. What you want me to do.

I feel for your bedroom keys in my pant pockets and take them out. Maybe your room has some answers to offer?

I look down the hallway at your untouched room. Gulping, I walk towards it, hearing voices of how you used to hiss about me to never go in there. I'm breaking the rule.

I unlock it and the door creaks open. I feel tears in my eyes to see it's literally untouched. No one ever bothered to clean it up. Your dirty clothes are still piled up on the floor and your bed sheets are still not made. I step inside and got it by this sudden cold. The emptiness of you not being here. My vision's so blurry as I look around.

I miss you, Jesse. I miss you so much. I'll give away anything to see you for even a minute.

I'll give away the world for you to come back and tease me about Sophie. About calling me a nerd. I know you'd be the only one impressed with my falling grades now. That actually makes me want to laugh. I open up the window to look outside. As if I'll see you there, trying to escape from the window because of you being grounded half of your life.

And I feel that trapped feeling in my heart. Like being stuck in a dark empty elevator, screaming for help.

That's when I see an open pocket diary on your bed. I frown and grab it. I never thought you'll be the writing kind. You said it was cheesy for people to write their secrets in diaries. I used to disagree.

And I feel tears trickling down my cheeks, fighting back sobs, running my fingers on it. Trying to imagine you writing on your bed for the last time ever. And I'm crying even when I don't bloody want to. I remember when I was nine and cried when you pushed me to the ground. You got mad at and said you hated it when I cried.

I wipe the tears with my sleeve, sniffing a couple of time before clearing my view. And I see something on top of the page, forcing me to read. Because you didn't write this for yourself. You wrote this for me.

Dear Luke.

That's what it starts with. And I sit on your bed because I feel like I hear your voice when I read it.

"Dear Luke," I read, intently. Because you're talking to me. You're sitting right next to me and talking to me. I'm not reading anything. I'm listening to you.

"And yes, I know you're wondering why I will ever write on a diary. But this is way more important than some little guilt secrets. I'm writing this to you. Because I know one day you'll end up finding some answers in my room."

I'm so confused but I keep on reading. The way you wrote, it felt serious.

"I've done many things, but never did I imagine myself in such a mess, you know. I'm scared to death but if I don't do this, Luke, you just don't know what he's capable of. And I don't even know if he's a he. But whoever he or she is, they're dangerous."

He? Who's he? Who's this person you're so afraid of?

It scares me that you were afraid of something - or someone. I keep on reading.

"You've always been curious about everything. That's what I'm afraid of. That your curiosity will force you to end up in the well with me. Luke, everything's wrong. I can't explain this but everything is wrong. My time's running out. But I need to warn you, Luke. I don't want you to end up like me."

"Jesse?" I whisper, my voice quivering with perplexities, hoarse.

"I know that I'll die at the night of the camp. I know it already, Luke. But I can't stop it. I can't get out of this. I want to, so bad. I don't want to leave you, Or Mom and Dad. But I don't have an option."

My heart stop beating and I forget to breath. I don't understand, Jesse. You...knew? You knew you were going to die? Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped. We could have called the police or something. Anything, Jesse. Anything could have happened if you told me. You could have been alive, for godsake!

And I try to but fail, letting the tears run down my face. Why didn't you trust me, Jesse? Why?

"I could have done so much, Luke. But he threatened to kill you. I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you're alone. I'm sorry I left you. But he didn't give me any option. I didn't know what to do. The first time in my life, I don't know what to do. Cry or laugh? Scream or smile?"

I don't understand. Who is this he?! Why did he kill you?! Jesse, answer me!

"All I want is that you get away from this town as soon as you read this, Luke. Just get out of here! Go somewhere far away from New Jean. Please, listen to me, Luke. I've tried to stop this all. And tonight's my last chance. I'll kill the one who started it all. But remember, if I don't come back; know that I didn't do anything. Stop every research of yours when I'm gone. Don't trust anyone and get the hell out of the town, Lukas! I'm not kidding. Don't show this note to anyone, alright? You don't know who to trust.

Us girls were forced to play his game, Luke, and I don't want you to play it too."

That's all you wrote. All you wrote in your whole diary.

You're telling me to leave you behind. But I want to tell you I can't Jesse. I'm sorry but I can't without knowing what happened.

You were innocent, weren't you? You were trying to protect me from a psycho. But you didn't tell me his name. Is it still Skylar, though? Why do you feel like you want me to forget this? You never showed any sign of trouble on your face. You always looked happy.

And I'm crying and crying, because I don't know what to say or do. You're gone Jesse. That bastard killed you.

"I'll kill him," I breathe, "I'll kill whoever hurt you."

I rock myself on your bed, wishing you were here. Wishing this never happened. My eyes droop as I cry, the word 'game' stuck in my mind but I don't focus on that. All I'm thinking about how you died saving me. And I don't know why you saved me. I didn't deserve it.

Without realizing it, I close my eyes, dreaming about you.

Again.

But this time, it feels real.