When you imagine a fifteen year old kid on a Friday night, it's not sneaking around some random person's yard at 9PM, right?
Glad we're on the same page.
It was needed. Lucas' mom's car was out of the driveway, and I already thought ahead to the fact that she locked the door behind her and Lucas probably had his headset on, so he wouldn't be able to hear me knocking on the door.
That's why I'm climbing up to his window.
He didn't notice me at first, and I was right, he did have his headset on. He was yelling something at his own TV, the cord on the controller tangled in the clothes beneath him.
I'm sure the sound of my fist beating his window didn't make him realize I was here, it was probably the vibrations.
He locked eyes with me and the only thing written on his face for a solid five seconds was pure terror.
He soon realized it was me when he got up and opened the window, I jumped inside quickly.
"Why'd you come in through the window? You haven't done that for months."
"Front door was locked," I fell onto his bed. He fell back to the floor in front of the bed, facing his TV.
"So what do you want?"
I practiced what I'd say to him the entire way here, but I still didn't come up with anything reasonable sounding. I've never actually had a serious talk with him.
He wouldn't even consider me his best friend. I only came over once a month, if I was counting.
But, Lucas was all I had.
"Uh... Remember how we saw Jaxon's dead body?"
I couldn't see his face to know how he processed that question, I was too afraid to even look at him. I was scared he'd call me weird for being this obsessed about it.
It's not like it's my fault. I don't want to be this involved, I don't even care about it. But clearly it's given me some sort of mental illness that I don't know how to get rid of.
"Yeah," he answered after several moments of silence.
"That wasn't a suicide... You think?" I tried to ease into the conversation.
"Well I don't think the picture was real," he chuckled weirdly. Did he think I was weird for asking?
"It-... It was."
"How do you know?"
"I saw it. In person."
Lucas immediately jumped from the floor, flipping to the bed as he rested his elbows onto the top.
I also leaned up, looking at him with his headphones halfway falling off of his head.
"You saw it? Where? Did you sneak into the morgue or something?"
I hesitated, "something like that, yeah."
"What the hell? Why?" He asked with both a laugh and a look of confusion.
"I was just curious."
I didn't really want to tell him about the part of me suffocating. I don't think I'd be able to explain that to someone.
When he didn't respond for a good minute, I looked back to him, he looked like he just saw a ghost.
"So it's... It's real? That's what he actually looked like?"
I stiffly nodded, watching him pull off his headset, running a hand through his almost buzzed length hair.
"Dude..." he trailed off.
Yeah, I know.
"I mean... Like-... Dude."
Yeah. I know.
We were both silent for a long time, I could still hear the sounds of shooting from his headphones around his neck.
It made me feel better to finally tell someone. Of course I told Jessica but I didn't exactly feel relieved in sharing that information. Rather annoyed, and like I don't ever wanna do it again.
Telling Lucas, I feel like I'm being heard. Like I'm not overreacting by thinking that something definitely isn't right about his death. Something really bad happened, and the cops are just saying, "suicide."
"Then... What the hell happened to him? How did he kill himself like that? Did he get struck by lightning, or like-... Stabbed with an electric pole? Three times?"
I wish I had an explanation that made sense.
The chicken or the egg coming first question was easy, it was sensible. You use science, it's practical.
But I've literally considered every possible way a human being could die, and not a single one matched with how Jaxon did.
"I actually just came here to ask if you wanted to help me figure it out," I gave a half-laugh, expecting him to laugh along with me, but he only looked at me like I was crazy.
If I could figure out how Jaxon Walker died, maybe I'd feel better about it. Maybe some sort of justice would settle my peace of mind. And if it is some sort of serial killer that murders in... Really weird ways, people need to know about it.
"Like... Be investigators?"
I nodded.
With the shake of his head, he uncomfortably chuckled, "I dunno, Dax."
"C'mon. The police are labeling it as a suicide. That's obviously not a suicide," I tried to reason.
"Yeah, I think they're doing that for a reason. I don't think they know either. If they can't figure it out, how are we supposed to?"
I didn't think that far ahead.
"Uh-..." I trailed off, trying to rack my brain for a good reason that two fifteen year olds could figure out a murder mystery better than the police could.
"We're in highschool. If someone knows something, we have a better chance of hearing about it."
Lucas leaned away from the bed with a heavy sigh. I already know what he's going to say.
"Sorry but... I just don't-... I dunno."
I slowly got up from his bed, "I get it. It was just a suggestion."
"I'm sorry."
"Nah, it's stupid anyway. Just thought it'd be something fun to do," I said with a laugh as I made my way to the open door.
"You leaving?"
I turned back to him, he already had his headset back onto his head.
"Yeah. I-..." I stopped, already seeing Lucas' eyes darting around the screen as his fingers jumped everywhere on his controller.
That easily? Is something wrong with me?
After I left Lucas' house, I wasn't sure where to go. If I go back home, I think my brain is going to eat me alive.
I wish I had more friends. Someone to talk to. I know I'm a boring person and I kind of hate everyone but it doesn't make anything less lonely.
Nobody's around. It's Friday and I'm on main street, but nobody's out here. Would it be stupid if I just laid out onto the road, acting like I'm in a sad teen drama, trying to kill myself?
It's not like anyone's around to see me anyway. Would it really make a difference if they were?
Should I even really try to figure out how he died? Jessica did tell me to stop asking people about him, but how else am I going to get closure?
Is this one of the old stories I'm going to tell my grandkids? About the mutated dead kid that died in my highschool that no one ever knew how he died?
An old ghost story. It'll die along with me, and so will the truth of what happened to Jaxon Walker.
Goddammit.
