Page 109 of Doesn't Count

He says my name like a foreign word, uncomfortable and without practice.

“She didn’t know?” My mother asks skeptically.

Guilt blooms deep in my chest, lacing its cold talons around my heart in a crushing grip. The entire calamity that is my life has affected so many people, hurting each and every one of them. Though, the circumstances were out of my control, it’s because of me that the ones I love are hurting.

“No one knew.” I admit.

“It was roughly four in the afternoon. You were in the Crest Creek Forest Preserve with your friend Ashton Crawford – doing what again?” Officer O’Neill asks for the third time, probably seeing if my story will change.

“Sitting by the river, just hanging out. We were talking.” I answer with a sigh.

“Talking or fighting?”

“Talking, which ended in a disagreement. I wouldn’t say we were fighting.”

“Fine. What was the disagreement about?”

My eyes flick over to my parents who are watching me intently, soaking in every word that leaves my mouth. The idea of having to share these minuscule details with them makes my skin crawl.

“I don’t think that’s relevant.”

“Look here, son, you went missing for ten years. Your poor parents buried you because they never thought they would seeyou again. I don’t care if I ask you what color your underwear was that day, you’re going to answer every question I have. Is that clear?” His harsh tone snaps in my ear despite how quietly he speaks.

Grey. My underwear was grey, and I won’t ever forget that.

I nod, biting my tongue until the taste of metal fills my mouth. I run it over my teeth before finally responding.

“I told her I had feelings for her, and it freaked her out. She ran, literally took off, leaving me there at the river.”

He jots something down in his little notepad.

“What did you do after she left?” He doesn’t look up as he fires the next question, crossing something out now.

“I needed time to sulk, so I just sat back down and stayed there for a while.”

“For how long?”

I shrug, “I don’t know. I didn’t have a phone or a watch.”

“Ashton came by the house a little before six looking for Oliver. I remember because I was just putting dinner in the oven.” My mother chimes in.

My heart skips a beat as if Ash’s name alone holds the power to my life source. I knew she looked for me, she even told me so, told me the whole neighborhood went searching, but hearing it now when everything is so real again, tears me apart.

“So, sometime between four and six, on the evening of August 15, 2013, in the Crest Creek Forest Preserve, you were alone and allegedly kidnapped.” The officer recounts.

I nod, playing that day in my head over and over again. It never seems to leave me, no matter how hard I try to forget.

Over hours of questioning, Officer O’Neill drags out of me every detail of the kidnapping to where they took me, who I was with, and how I escaped. I painted each square footage of the church, of the surroundings, the forest of horrors. Elaborated on how many wrinkles and grey whiskers that weatheredFather’sface. The stench and grease that coated Bordeaux, how he looked like a human pig. I avoid my parents’ tear-filled gaze as they break apart from hearing how I’ve lived, how I grew up. Finally, at some point close to midnight, the Officer grows tired, agreeing to pick back up again tomorrow.

After he leaves, I send another text to Ash that will most likely go unanswered and Hypnos fills Than and Koke in. It goes without saying, but we cancel the remainder of our tour.

Guilt once again sinks its teeth in me, growing roots deep inside my soul as I continue to disappoint the people that matter most to me. I’ve unintentionally put our band at risk, let our fans down, and lied to my best friends. It’s funny how at first, I was blameless and after time, I became the only one at fault for the misery that surrounds me.

Now I wish more than ever that Oliver stayed dead.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Khaos

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