Everything Fragile✔

Chapter Two - I Cut My Lip On The Edge Of My Existence

   I think I look like crap.

   Well, actually, I know that I do. I saw my reflection earlier when I was freshening up in the bathroom. Bloodshot eyes, bruises around my throat, and my hair is a tangled mess. Not to mention that the hospital clothes hugs my body in an uncomfortable way, making me feel itchy all over.

   Last night, I was driven to the emergency room to get stitches for the bullet graze on my shoulder. The last time I was in the hospital was months ago when they found mom's broken body at the bottom of a cliff wedged between the driver's seat and steering wheel of her car. The doctors said she broke every muscle in her body and that if she recovered, she'd live the rest of her life paralyzed. By the time dad and I got to the hospital, she died and I never got a chance to say goodbye. I suppose since then I've been traumatized; scarred from the sight of my mother's unrecognizable body lying on that bed in this very hospital.

   The doctor—Susan Gram I think her name was—took it upon herself to check my throat for any internal damage. When she found nothing, she implored me to stay overnight for observation, but I'm pretty sure she was just following orders from the officers that brought me here. They didn't want me out of their sight. I am a key witness after all.

   Anyways, I'm self-conscious which is so unlike me, but dad has headed home this morning to freshen up and in his place is a boy from my school: Mateo Dela Cruz. He's all business, eyes staring me down, lips set in a straight line, and figure unmoving by the door.

   I remember when I used to have a crush on him back in elementary school and when I told him, he shoved my face into the dirt during recess and told me that I was a scum. Mom said boys like him weren't worth my time and there are many boys like him here in Kingston, so I suppose some part of me rearranged her words to say "boys aren't worth your time". Yet, here I am and there he is.

   Is it too late to say that I'm a sucker for holding grudges?

   "They're coming to ask you questions."

   I blink, not expecting that to be his first words to me after all these years. I'm not really sure why he's here, but you'd think that one of the reasons would be to see if I'm okay, but why would he need to? We're not friends, better yet acquaintances. Still, I humor him.

   "Who?"

   He replies almost immediately. "Officers. When they come, you give them simplified answers. Don't let this drag on longer than it needs to."

   I almost laugh. "How about you stay out of things that don't concern you?"

   I swear it was the painkillers that made me say that, because on any other day I would've just kept my mouth closed and nodded my head without question. Today, however? I'm traumatized, sore, and sleep-deprived. Let's just say, I'm not in the mood to be talked down upon. Especially not after everything that went on last night.

   "Valerie is my cousin." Mateo says and all at once my anger is gone. "You saved our two other friends too...kind of. One of them didn't make it. He, uh, lost too much blood."

   I look down at my hands because staring at them is better than looking into the eyes of a boy filled with so much pain. I get it, that hollowness you feel after losing a loved one. It doesn't hurt any less and it never gets easier. They will always be a blacked out figure missing from the picture.

   "I'm sorry for your loss." I whisper.

   He sniffles and I look up in time to see him wipe away a fallen tear. He's trying so hard to hold himself together right now.

   "We don't want the press involved for too long." He continues, back to the original conversation. "We are undergoing our own private investigation and would appreciate it if your encounter of last night would be brief enough to ease the public eye."

   "So, you want me to lie?"

   "No, we want you to not remember as much." I watch quietly as Mateo pulls out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to me. "You do my family this one favor and we'll reward you with more."

   My throat goes dry when I unfold the paper. It's a million dollar check and all at once I feel dizzy. "This can't be real."

   "It is." He confirms.

   "If I agree, what do you want me to say?"

   "Nothing big." He shrugs. "You give your version of the story, but in no way do you mention that Valerie was a witness."

   "But she was there."

   "Lie. Say that she was unconscious. Make something up."

   Part of me can't help wondering why Mateo doesn't want me to tell the police about Valerie. Besides me, she was the only other person who saw the whole thing. Wouldn't they want her to testify? Afterall, one of her friends did die. If I were her, I'd be seething, mouth ready to snitch. It's almost kind of sketchy, but this is one million dollars we're talking about. Dad and I could really use this money especially after this hospital bill that is bound to leave our pockets dry.

   So, I nod my head. "Okay."

   He doesn't even smile. Just lifts his brow briefly as if he knew that I'd say yes. It's almost as if he knew that for a girl like me, money would fix almost everything.

   "I'd like to think that you're smart enough to never mention this conversation to anyone."

   I don't even have a chance to reply before he turns on his heels and exits the room, leaving me alone to reflect on what the hell I just got myself into.