Discombobulate

Chapter Ten

Andy stared out the window in the passenger's seat. The police station was half a mile away from the rest of town. People rarely drove there unless they needed to go to the station. It was located on a dead-end road.

The car door opening beside her made her jump. Her heart hammered in her chest. She glanced over to see Denise holding out her coffee cup. Andy left it behind without a second thought. She was distraught when she left.

She took the cup from her friend with a shaking hand. "How are you not freaking out? You've seen photos of your slaughtered family and you're as cool as a cucumber!"

Denise's Chevy Impala started up with a slight hum. "I've had three months to deal with it. The first two weeks were hell. It was so bad, I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them. I kept having nightmares where I couldn't save them."

"Did you try getting therapy?" Andy interrupted her.

Denise shook her head, "nope. I had to get over it by myself. I took a lot of walks to clear my head. I'm sure Opal has seen enough of me. I continuously bought coffee from her coffee shop. It was nice to get out of the house."

Andy took a sip of her coffee. She swallowed it, but the overly sweetened drink threatened to come back up. She couldn't shake the horrid images of Denise's family.

The last time she saw Jennifer, she was sixteen. She had just started her job at Opal's Coffee Shop. She wanted to finish high school and go to college. She hadn't yet decided what she wanted to do.

Susan wanted to start up a book club. She wanted Andy's advice on how to market it to people. Andy helped her make flyers and with Denise's help, all three hung them up around town.

It seemed so far away now. Three years ago, nobody considered anything like this happening. This wasn't supposed to happen. They had so much life left to live.

Denise stayed quiet as she drove them back to her cabin. She figured Andy needed more time to cope. She remembered how she felt when she found them in real life. Seeing those images made that same feeling come back; the feeling of hopelessness.

The stomach-churning realization that there was nothing she could do. She couldn't bring them back. She could only hope, by some miracle, they didn't feel the stabs. She clung to every last ounce of hope that it was painless. If Denise accepted that their deaths were painful, she'd never be able to cope with it.

If there was a God, he took away their pain immediately. He wouldn't let them suffer. They were good people. Their hearts were full of light. They didn't deserve to die the way they did.

"Are you going to stay the night?" Denise finally found the courage to ask her friend.

They spent a little over an hour at the police station. It was already pitch black outside. Andy's energetic and go-getter attitude had been smothered. She wasn't talking and it worried Denise.

Andy liked to be optimistic about everything. She was a 'one door closes, another opens' type of person. Her lack of speech made Denise wonder if she should drive her to the emergency room instead.

"Do you care if I stay at your place? I don't want to be a bother, but I don't want to be alone." Andy spoke with zero emotion. Her eyes never left the passenger window.

"If you want to sleep on the bed, I can sleep on the couch," Denise started.

"We can both sleep on the bed. You mentioned it was a king-size earlier, right? It can fit both of us. I don't want to be alone." She repeated the same line as before.

A small wave of guilt washed over Denise. She should have made Andy leave the room when the photos came out. She didn't think they were going to affect her this much.