Shifty eyes followed my every movement as I sauntered up to the comically large glass double doors. Slipping through them, I was greeted by cheesy quotes and vibrant yellow smiley faces that could make any sane person scream. Cringing, I walked swiftly over to a makeshift desk in the middle of the perfectly square room. Plastic chairs lined every wall around the desk and stopped abruptly at the opening of a hallway to the far left corner. Murmuring my name to the receptionist, I was greeted by a too wide, too toothy grin and an over enthusiastic nod. Beckoning to the seats behind me, the perky woman waved me off, returning to her excessive stabbing of computer keys. I plopped into a child sized puke green chair near the abyss of a hallway. Leaning my head back, I closed my stunningly blue eyes for a few minutes, relishing in the moment of silence.
“Kade,” came the voice of a young, petite brunette with square framed glasses resting on her nose. “Come along with me, darling.” I growled quietly at the last part, annoyed by the nickname. Standing silently, I dropped my head, auburn hair falling over my pale face. Watching her flat clad feet step down the hall, I shuffled my pale legs after them, multiple paces behind. We traveled to a neon orange door with the words “Love your life!” written in even brighter blue bubble letters. Just looking at them made me want to puke.
“Why must everything be so bright?” I grumbled, hands quietly moving into my two front pockets. Standing there hunched over, I groped each pocket looking for that one special thing.
“Please be respectful, Miss Kade, you never know who’s listening,” smiling evilly, the young women pushed me inside the door frame and into a blinding pink room with light purple tulips scattered around the walls.
“Who might you even be?” I retorted, annoyed with the mysterious lady. The hands invading my left pocket bumped the oddly shaped wooden object.
“I’m Dr. Blut,” came the response from the sharply angular women, “and I’ll be watching over you until Dr. Kelly comes.”
“Hm quite ironic your last name is. Why isn’t it funny how your last name means blood in German. Not to mention Hitler spilled lots of blood in his time,” I stated, piercing my blue eyes into her blood shot grass green ones. She stared at me, mildly confused and opened her mouth as if to speak but thought better and closed it. Watching as she sat down in a red cushioned chair on the right side of the room, I circled her, analyzing her every move.
“We all know Hitler is not the only psychopath around here,” Dr. Blut stupidly stated, grinning in false satisfactory.
Fingers encompassing the worn handle, I appeared behind her again and in a fit of black and red realized what I had done. Crimson blood seeped into the cloth of the chair but remained unseen against the matching fabric. A body slid across the white tiled floor, leaving a stream of scarlet in its path before resting contently in the miniature closet of the far side of the room. Rough brown paper towels mopped the trail back and then were thrown into the trash can with time to spare.
I safely made my way onto a pitch black couch, resting my bottom comfortably on it as I pulled my wobbly knees to my chest. Sliding the cold object back into my concealed jean shorts pocket, I rested there, shutting my eyes and enjoying more silence, Revealing in my thoughts I missed the creak of the door or even the click clack of heels on polished tile. Even missing the doctor that appeared across from me and sat in that same rosy chair, I lay still. Not realizing another presence in the room until a high pitched voice shattered my train of thought, I flinched.
“Kade, it’s not your fault!” The middle aged woman stated as she adjusted her position across from me. As she did so, her black pencil skirt hiked up a little bit, showing off almost invisible white, jagged scars lining the insides of her sickly pale thighs. Her kind brown eyes gazed at me, but I could see the hurt and familiarity behind them. She had been in the exact same spot as me before.
I just rearranged my legs slightly and maneuvered my studying eyes from her face to the large bay window spanning the wall behind her. The dark, stormy clouds shifted as my legs picked up my slumping body before shuffling it to the cool glass. My osseous right hand rested upon the glass as a single tear fell. Left hand slipping into my pocket, I just stood there, consumed with thoughts but brain dead at the same time. I truly lamented that horrible night. “It had been my fault; the whole idea of it had been my fault. If I hadn’t wanted to climb that stupid bridge that stormy night, then Jordan would be here making me laugh,” I angrily wiped away the lone tear and removed my hand as these thoughts bounced around my head.
“I know you truly think it is Kade, but it was Jordan who wasn’t paying attention to where she was going. Jordan, herself, decided to climb the bridge. You could even go as far back as it was her idea to come to the party.”
“But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t my fault,” I whimpered out.
“How could it have been your fault?” The doctor suspiciously scrutinized me.
“I was the one who pushed her!” I confessed, lurching my hand back into the familiar pocket, wrapping my fingers around the one thing that haunted my past.
“What exactly do you mean by push?” She retorted, eyeing me carefully
“I didn’t push her off the bridge, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I let out an emotionless laugh. “I mocked her the whole way to the bridge; I teased her about not wanting to climb the bridge. I pushed her into deciding to climb!”
The doctor thoughtfully pushed her blue framed, oval glasses up her pointy nose, and tucked a piece of dull brown hair behind her ear before scribbling down ineligible words in her plain notebook. I subconsciously rubbed my itchy wrists, hiking my sleeves up to my elbows. My eyes darted away from the judging gestures and eyes, and back towards the large bay window. It had started to pour, causing for little raindrops to stream down the clear windows, chasing one another. Feelings of nostalgia bubbled in my stomach as I thought back to my childhood, when I used to sit around and bet on which raindrop would win the race. Things were always simple then. I never had any responsibilities or worries growing up; I never worried of losing a friend or even myself.
“I was a bit apprehensive to take on your case in the first place. You’re not like most teenage girls with the same issue as you. Well, the same expression of your feelings.” Dr Kelly glared down at my concealed wrists. “Your case is unique, so to say, with all the things that have happened to you in the last year.”
“Unique how?” I quirked an eyebrow at her common accusation.
“Why must girls who come to me suffer from eating disorders or huge grief,” Kelly beat around the bush in her further statements.
“You think I haven’t suffered enough trouble yet?” I seethed at her, face red with anger. Fingers tapped my left side, finding the familiar shape burning a hole into my soul.
“I see,” the doctor mused, “you feel absolutely trapped with grief from your friend’s death and can’t seem to release it. That explains the florid scars crossing your arms.”
“Battle wounds,” I countered, tracing the scabbing red lines. They dominated my world now, but someday they would be the battle wounds I advocated them to be. I heard the doctor snort before my hand slid down to my left pocket, squeezing in and fingering the item in there.
“You know what I think actually happened that night?” She attempted to change the topic.
“I could care less what you think,” I muttered, taking the bait.
Ignoring me, she continued with her speculations, saying, “I think Jordan didn’t actually fall off that bridge. I think she was dead before she left it.”
“And how do you suppose that happened?” I articulated.
“I think you killed her. You must’ve stabbed her. She would’ve fallen back then, hitting her head on the sharp rocks below, making everyone believe she died from that. You’re her murder,” Her cold voice sent chills down my back but I stayed neutral. Standing as she spoke these words, I heard her come towards the dark window and glared at her reflection in the glass.
“And why would I have done that?” Voice unchanged, I watched her step closer.
“You’re a cold blooded killer! You didn’t care about her!” Confidently she spoke, sure of her words but unsure of their effect. She cautiously took a few steps back, watching my every movement.
“I loved Jordan!” I screeched, voice full of emotion for the first time. Tears streamed down my face as I continued to speak, “I would never do anything to her. I cared for her. I was there for her. Nobody else was but me!”
“Of course it wasn’t you, honey. But have you seen my assistant?” She questioned me, believing she had me trapped
“Jordan’s killer came here! She killed your assistant before my eyes!” i broke down, sliding onto the cold floor, shaking hands covering eyes.
“You poor thing!” She exclaimed. Covering both eyes with one hand, I brought the other down to my left pocket, becoming prepared. Wiping at my eyes, i stood back up, turning around back to the outside world. Hardening my demeanor I tensed.
Kelly continued to walk closer to me before laying a bony hand on my taut shoulder. Her hand tightened as my hand gripped the handle. I was whipped around by the witch herself. As I looked up into her now hateful eyes, I slipped my hand out of my pocket, holding the cold handle. The metal flashed in the reflection of her hard eyes. She didn’t have time to react before I plunged the pocket knife a few inches from her heart and watched her fall.
“You!” She stuttered out as she layed on the ground, blood gushing.
“It was me,” I simply stated before wiping her blood off on my messy cardinal shirt, slipping the murder weapon back into its hiding place. Turning around, I left yet another victim behind to die.