Counter Lotus

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

My head was in such a haze, I didn't realize I was home until I parked and cut the engine off. I didn't feel home though. Didn't feel any sense of safety or comfort. How could I? Everything that happened last night was so fresh, as was waking up in Peter's backseat not even an hour or so ago. Hands still tight on the wheel, I stared off into nothingness. I felt so far away, stranded on a foreign little island in my own head.

After a moment, my aimless eyes and crinkled brows caught my car clock. It read 7:40. Liz and David were probably having coffee by now (and likely talking shit about me). That was the last thing I was worried about though. For other and more obvious reasons, I still could not unbuckle and get out. I was just... lost in thought and disgust.

The disgust part was pretty strong. The bloody clothes didn't make me feel dirty. Peter's jacket hiding it made me feel dirty. I shouldn't have to hide this or feel this way! I should have drove to the police station instead of home. But since I didn't, I might as well have been the one that ended that girl's life. I felt that guilty, paranoid, and disgusted with myself.

Sure, I didn't kill her – and it's not like the strangler nut-case was innocent – but not doing anything made me sick. All I could think, all I wanted to do, was call the police. Regardless, I realized it didn't really matter how I proceeded. There wasn't one course of action that would do me any favors, weather it fell under the moral umbrella or not.

Ready for this unhealthy brain-storming anxiety session, folks?

Scenario one: be a good-noodle and report what happened to the police. According to Peter, I was wearing the only evidence that a girl died last night. If that was the case, me wearing her blood would likely get arrested. Oh, what's that, guys? Hide the bloody clothes before going to the cops? My far-fetched story would make me a suspect, they would investigate me, and possibly find the evidence that I intentionally hid from them. Not a good ending to the story. Result: getting tossed in the slammer.

Scenario two: I don't go to the police, and her body gets found. Peter's nonchalant disturbing manner told me he was not bluffing about evidence. It wouldn't get traced back to him, but what if it somehow gets traced back to me? Trust me, I've watched enough Forensic Files and the First 48 to understand it was a possibility. So, if it does get traced back to me, even if they know I didn't kill her and she attacked me, not coming forward with information was just as bad. Result: get tossed in the slammer.

Scenario three: I don't go to the police, the body is not found, and nothing happens. That would be great, but I will always be worried about it. Worried she may be found or that it will come back to haunt me. I would always be paranoid. I would always feel guilty too for not coming forward. Guilty for that girl's family. Well, unless she strangled them too. Result: be unable to live with myself and go insane.

Sitting in my car, my eyes wandered aimlessly in thought. All I wanted was to call the police and be a good person. I also wanted to be smart. What if scenario one was a little more forgiving? After all, I couldn't just listen blindly to stalker asshole. Seriously, how in the world was there no evidence someone was killed in that room last night? Well, I guess he did wrap her in that comforter. But how did he get me out of there too?

If there was one drop that escaped the comforter, if one witness saw me getting hauled out of there last night... that would back up my story more if I went to the police. And guys, I really wanted to go to the police. So first, instead of calling the police, I called Bryce. Time to fish for some answers.

After a late night of partying, it was a miracle he answered. His muffled voice indicated I woke him up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Bryce, it's Josephine. I'm so sorry to wake you so early."