Page 36 of Look What You Made Me Do

When he leaves, I sit back in the plastic chair, pulling in several long breaths to gather my nerves. Then I reach out and flip the file open. On top is the actual autopsy report itself, thank God. Leaning forward, I read over all the basic facts. Presumed height, weight, hair and eye color, and so on. The “marks and wounds” section is basically a novel. He was ripped to pieces under that train with too many injuries to describe in detail on one sheet of paper.

There’s a sketch of a person, front and back, to show the locations of the injuries, and it’s a hot mess with scribbles everywhere. I swallow hard when I confront the fact that this was Gabriel. One second he was “fine” and a second later, he wasthis. An eviscerated mess of flesh scattered across the train tracks.

Behind the report is a witness account of what happened–but I’m only guessing because most of it’s redacted. And behind that are the accompanying photos. I suck in a sharp breath, then flip the page. The first photo is of his phone, the screen cracked and dark, lying in the gravel. It’s definitely his phone case. I recognize the black and white swirl design.

The second photo is the contents of his wallet. It’s untouched like maybe he tossed it aside before stepping in front of the train. It was found a few feet from Gabriel’s body and inside was his driver’s license, credit cards…and a note with just five words, written in his chicken scratch?—

Do you see me now?

I blink rapidly to stave off the tears that sting the backs of my eyes. I remember first seeing that note after everything had happened. The police asked me about it. Fuck,everyoneasked me about it, and I told them I had no idea what it meant. But that was a lie—a lie that most people accepted. But not Lucas. He knows there’s shit I’m not telling him.

Swallowing back the emotion, I consider whether or not I need to see the rest of the file. There are several more photos, probably of Gabriel’s body, but do I reallyneedto see them? Will I regret it if I don’t look? Will I always wonder?

Sucking in another deep breath, I flip the page quickly, andIinstantlyregret it. It’s a jumble of bloody flesh that hardly even looks human, and I quickly glance away, shutting the manila folder.

“Oh, fuck,” I breathe, standing up. I suddenly feel queasy, and I start pulling in deep breaths to keep from throwing up. If that was Gabriel, then there was no possible way to identify him physically. From what I saw, there was hardly anything left.

I grab the folder so I can give it back to the detective. On my way back up to the waiting room, I pass his office. The door is ajar, and I knock gently. He looks up from his desk. “Done already?”

“Um, yeah.” I step inside his small office and set the file on his desk. “Just a quick question, did you collect any DNA from him or anything? I mean, during the autopsy?”

He reaches for the file. “If it’s not noted in the report, then no. We only collect DNA if the death is suspicious. And there was a witness, so it wasn't necessary.”

I nod. “Who was the witness?”

“This is still an active investigation, so I can’t disclose that information,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Right, yeah,” I say quickly, waving it off. “I was just wondering if they saw anything that could explain whathappened. I mean, a train seems like a pretty brutal way to go, you know?”

“Happens more than you think,” he says. “We’re called down thereat leastonce a week for the same thing.”

“Once aweek?” There’s shock in my voice.

“More during the holidays. It’s really unfortunate.”

I nod slowly. God, that’s tragic, and I can’t help but feel a pang in my chest for those poor souls. “Um, anyway, thank you. I appreciate your help,” I say.

“Yup,” he says, dismissing me and going back to whatever he was doing.

When I get back home, I still feel queasy, but I feel like I know even less than I did before going to the Sherrif’s Station. I was hoping there would be undeniable proof that Gabriel was gone. But what I got instead was a photo of Gabriel’s driver’s license, a note that I’d already seen, and a jumble of pulverized flesh.

Ugh.

I have to dart home and get ready for class. Just one class today, though, so there’s that. But the whole time, all I can see in my mind’s eye is that photo of Gabriel’s body scattered across the train tracks.

Do you see me now?

I clench my jaw, and swallow, trying to focus on the lecture. I scribble down notes, but I’m only half-listening. My phone buzzes, and I glance at the screen. It’s a text from Lux.

Coffee after class? I can meet you at the coffee shop on campus.

I smile down at my phone. Lux and I have gotten really close over the last few months, and we’ve made it a habit of checkingin with each other a couple of times a week. I type out my response.

Sure, sounds good.

I’m zoned out, pen in hand, when someone’s backpack comes flying at my face and snaps me out of my daze. It’s the person next to me standing up, swinging their backpack over their shoulder. I glance around and everyone else is doing the same.

Shit, I was so out of it I didn’t even notice class was over.

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