If Only She Knew

14. The Suicide

Uncertain Point of View...

The jail of the police station of BB was dark, dim, the nightmare of any claustrophobic criminal, the way most jails are if you're not up in the Scandinavian North.

Webster Robinson, a man in his late 20's, ginger haired, blue eyed and very tall, like a Viking, sat behind the bars, being arrested full time until he would be moved to some county prison where he'll be awaiting his trial.

He was wide awake at 1 A.M. in the night, scratching the underside of his chin, looking as if he hadn't slept in a week.

He was the only one in the jail besides a young woman who was arrested on drug trafficking charges.

There was silence except for the annoying, continuous sound of water or liquid falling from a loose pipe somewhere, and that sound, like the music of a single cricket, was keeping Webster up.

There was silence until there was a sudden thud, and the tinny scream of some rusty hinges as the bolted door of the jail was being pulled open.

The jail of the BB police section was indeed not very tightly secured, since it never had had to hold a serial killer until now.

He heard footsteps and they awakened Webster's attention and numb senses, as he glanced at the farther distance between the bars.

But then the light fell, and there was only darkness.

You could hear someone fumbling in the dark, tapering with something, and from certain perspectives see a gloved hand holding a flashlight for a few moments, before the light vanished and the footsteps returned.

Webster became really scared when he heard new movements, jiggling, a padlock being removed, bars being pushed forward.

As the figure in the dark resumed walking, Webster frowned, sensing a danger coming, and fidgeted as he counted the footsteps.

They stopped in front of his cell.

"Who's there?" Webster's voice wavered.

And then he heard a breathy smile from a figure which he was sure was standing right in front of his cell, probably looking at him, whom he couldn't see.

Did they come to kill him?

"Hello there Webster." Someone spoke in a ragged voice. It was Tay.

"Who are you?" Webster asked. He was panicking.

"Hmm, won't tell you that."

"Why- why are you here? Have you come to kill me?" Webster stood up.

A dark laugh erupted on the other side.

"Why would I do that? I'd be a fool to do that..." Tay kept on saying. "Actually, I do not know what's better, letting you live out your miserable life in prison, or killing you now."

Then a sound of a pocket being unzipped was heard.

Webster braced himself.