The Technique

Chapter 28: Expose

There were multiple knocks on the door when I opened my eyes. The sunlight beaming through my window was blinding me. I tried to cover my face as I groped my phone to check the time. It was already nine in the morning.

I realized I was lying on the floor beside my bed. I crashed out last night.

I stood up and shouted, "Wait!"

The knocks had stopped.

I stood up in front of the mirror. I looked pale. My lips were dry, and my eyes were almost red.

I keeled over when I remembered what happened last night: the bloody knife, the paper soaked in blood, Greg's body.

I shook my head and pulled my hair. I shouldn't be thinking that. I should act like nothing ever happened. I was innocent.

I stood up and opened the door.

Mike and Kylie appeared in front of me, still in their sleeping suit. They looked at me, and I couldn't fathom out whether they were sad or sympathizing. They might have seen my pale look.

"Give me a second," I said and turned my back to them.

I quickly took a glass of water. I felt a little refreshed, but it didn't help much.

I turned back to them. "Why?" I finally asked. But I had a gut feeling of what it was.

Mike's hands were behind him as though he was hiding something. Kylie took a deep breath and put her arms across her chest.

"You heard the news?" Kylie asked.

The initial thought I had was about Greg.... and dad. 

He was killed too. 

It was like I had a bit of amnesia. I totally forgot about him and never called the police last night.

I bit my lower lip and pulled my hair. "No, no, no," I whispered.

"Are you alright, buddy?" asked Mike.

I lost my trance and quickly nodded without looking at him. "Yes, I am. What happened? What's the news?" I asked.

Kylie stared at my feet. I forgot to wear my slippers. "Greg was taken to the hospital. He jumped last night." She pointed at the ceiling.

I pretended to be shocked by the news. But I couldn't help but think only about dad.

"And he is a murderer. He butchered lots of people." Mike winced. "He hid them all in a root cellar. Most of them are teachers. They found out that he was the answer key stealer. And that's why he was always at the top. He had the answers beforehand. I told you there was something strange about him. Technically, you're the top 1, buddy. You should get the award now."

"Mike!" Kylie shouted.

"Sorry," Mike whispered.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. If they only knew that I had known all about that before them.

"Buddy, you okay?" Mike pat my back.

I gave him a nod. "I just couldn't understand why he did that," I said. I kept my eyes away from them.

"And Mr. David..." Kylie trailed off. She examined my face. "He died. Greg killed him."

They looked at me as if the news was the most important thing I needed to hear. It was as if they knew.

Mike reached my hand and gave me an old brown notebook. "That's Mr. David's. You wanna be alone?"

They knew.

I resisted my tears while I was still in front of them. But with the look in their eyes, I couldn't keep it anymore. I quickly turned my back and closed the door. I sat down leaning against the door, and let my tears wet my face.

"Just call us, buddy," Mike said.

I remembered exactly the old notebook I was holding. It was Mr. David's diary, my dad's.

I gripped it as all the force pulled more tears out. I turned the pages slowly, feeling the rough texture of it. Instead of reading them, I just pictured how dad was feeling when he was writing all of these.

I stood up to open the window. A lot of people were crumpled together down the dorm building. They were shocked and afraid at the same time. The policemen were on the other side, where Greg fell. I took a deep breath and noticed the small folded paper slipped out of the diary.

I sat down and read.

Dear Nathan,

Nathan. That was what I wanted your name to be. The day you were born, I wished you'd grow up as a kind and brave guy. That was all I wanted because I knew you would grow up without a dad who would play basketball with you or give you tips on how to get a date for a prom. I'm sorry. My relationship with your mom had been so cruel. Your grandparents wanted us to part ways, so we stayed far away from them. We lived happily. Your mom got pregnant. Then, your grandma called me, telling me that your grandpa was sick. If I wouldn't come back home, I would never be able to see him again. I had to choose. Your mom's brave. I knew. So I left you both. I knew she was going to raise you well. I'm very sorry, you had to live searching for your dad's existence. I changed my name, my identity, and everything. I didn't want you to look for me. I wanted you to think that I'm dead. But when you told me that you're searching for your dad that night at the party, I knew I had to write this and give you this once I have enough courage. I'm sorry. I'm scared and embarrassed. You should never have a dad who you'd never be proud of. I'm weak. I hope you forgive me. I'll always remember that night when you told me your promise to your parents. Keep that. I love you.

Your dad

Neil

I couldn't keep all the water flowing down my cheeks. It was gushing. How could I not recognize him? How could I not realize that the person I was talking to that night at the party was my dad?

I cried and cried until I was dehydrated. My eyes were puffy, and my nose was runny.

An hour later, I woke up by the screams and cries outside. I felt dizzy. The bones had slowly been brought forth from the cellar. Their families cried louder as they recognized their loved ones. They were squawking about the school's negligence.

I closed my window. I didn't want to see it anymore. I sat down on the bed and lazily stared at the floor. I didn't know what to do.

I was sure mom had known this. Kylie had told her already perhaps. I picked up my phone and dialed mom's number. She picked it up quickly.

"I'm sorry," I said. I felt as though my tears were going to fall again. "I'm sorry, mom. I'm sorry for shouting at you. I'm very sorry."

She was crying too. I could sense it. "Don't apologize, Nathan. It's mom's fault." She cried louder. "Your dad."

"I know," I replied, my voice starting to crack.

"He's an idiot," she said.

"I know." I stood up and bit my lips. "Mom?"

"Yes?"

"I have to tell you a lot of things." I realized that it was about time to have courage. I should've done this much earlier. I stared at the side of my cabinet. I found the little camera as small as my toenails and stared at it. "I'm going to expose this school."