34. Hospital

I gave him a thumbs up.

"Don't forget. Now please close the door when leaving; it is getting a bit chilly."

I saw him doing just that, waving me a goodbye. I bet he is in the midst of giving my address to some reporters.

They can come, and then I tell them how fake every one of the evidence was.

My phone vibrated somewhere, and I crawled to the mattress where I found it. It was my grandma.

"No teeth are lost, and I am still alive." It is a hassle to get new teeth, so I am always conscious of them when fighting.

I heard a sigh of relief,

"Good, you are ugly enough even with your teeth." And… she hung up again. I laughed, somehow loving how clear the sides were all of a sudden.

From the strange static my family had been in, with my grandmother leaning to me, my father leaning away from me, while my siblings remained unmoved, now the fronts were more than just cleared. It felt good; I felt real. And I felt strangely alive.

I dozed off, being woken up by more noise; looking to the door, I saw what seemed at first to look like reporters. They didn't seem to have high-end equipment, more like some online reporters or just curious spectators with their phones.

"Want an interview?" I asked them. It were a few people, shoving themselves in front of my door, not daring to come in, but still brave enough to open my unlocked door.

"Yes, did you do it?" Someone asked, and more questions came.

"You can come in; I am inviting you." My one-room apartment, was soon filled, and looking closer, it seemed like really just freaks came over. Where is the real press?

"Well, I am innocent. Let me start with the evidence." I started to explain while lying down about the chat records, about the false prefix of my phone number, about my tattoo, when I got it, and how it wasn't in the pictures and videos. I even showed them my tattoo under real pain.

"But why would someone fake all the evidence?" Someone asked.

"No idea. Next question." 

"Why are you injured?"

"A dog bit me. Next question."

"Did you rape the victim?" 

I looked at the man who asked me,

"No? Why should I?"

"It was you, wasn't it? You are a murderer!" Some others chimed in.

"Have you heard a word I have said?" I asked them in exasperation. However, I had overestimated them, and it seemed these were really just freaks. Damn it, yes, that goes on me.

The situation went downhill, but I was lucky because someone had called the police, who got the bunch to leave, and they even called for an ambulance. The cop who waited with me looked at me with pity for the dumb,

"Don't let strange people in your apartment, especially when they are armed with cameras, and you are unable to move."

"I think I am still hungover; does that count as an excuse?" And dizzy from the pain.

"No." He said, shaking his head. 

Soon the ambulance came, and, after asking me questions like where it hurt and if I was able to stand up, I was carried out on a stretcher. It seemed what waited for me was a weekend in the hospital.

******************

I was in the midst of eating the infamous hospital pudding in a private room—because I was now something like a celebrity, and because I told them I would pay for it—when two police officers came in.

"So, it seemed they were paid to rough you up and film it. But not only were they stunned that the job had been done already, but also because you were answering their questions so quickly. They thought they would get more out of selling an interview with you." The officer from before said.

"Ah. Ok." I nodded; it doesn't really matter; I suspect it was my future loyal dog who did so.

"Your interview is all over the internet; I don't know if it did you any good. Should I call your parents?"

"My mother is dead, and my father did this because of the news of me being a murderer." I said to him, seeing his face fall.

"Normally, I would get you to file a case against your father for child abuse, but if I looked in the news and saw my son there, I would probably do worse."

I nodded at him,

"Well, let's hope when the time comes; your son is really guilty then."

He grimaced and walked away after letting me sign my statement.

I had already informed my friends about my stay, emphasizing that they should stay away from the hospital so as not to not draw attention to themselves.

I already had a plan. I would stay here and heal a bit, then I would go to the place they found Henrietta's body. I figured that if there was a portal to the parallel world, then it had to be there.

There was no other way, and I was sure to succeed because I had seen my disappearance in the vision, where Jordan was putting out missing posts of me. 

But this time, I would send emails out with a timer, so that they at least knew that I hadn't really disappeared.

I couldn't do much about the fire, sure that Haruka wouldn't come near me, Mr. Atkins as well. If I come back in one piece, I get to the bottom of it.

There was a murder that needed to be investigated first.