1. Now

50 4 2
                                    


"Tell Ev- tell him that I'm sorry too. He needs to learn to control that temper of his but I know he can do it. He's the strongest and most dependable person that I know. He's nothing like that good for nothing father of his- he's a good man, inside and out." I grip the wheel of my truck tighter. I can feel my jaw clench as I listen to the muted sound of his voice over the phone. "You two need to look after each other. I'm so-" He starts to cough violently and I hear him groan as though he is in pain.

"Taylor!" she shouts into the device, both of our hearts pounding in the silence as we wait for a reply.


[Evan's POV]

My eyes drift open and I am greeted by the sight of the plain ceiling in my room; the tell tale water stain runs along the left corner and down the top of the wall. I stay as I am, arms spread at my sides, sheets tangled around my legs and just listen to the sounds of my breathing. My eyes never stray from the ceiling while my breathing evens out.

The dream, no, the memory, is a common one for me to have which means that in all the years since that day, I had developed coping mechanisms. These strategies mostly involve me doing nothing. Other tactics involve me pretending that nothing happened, which is what I am about to do. In one swift move, I stand up from the bed and pull the sheets off of my body, chucking them back on the bed behind me as I walk into the bathroom.

Keep moving. I step into the shower and begin my morning routine which involves showering quickly, shaving while avoiding looking too closely at my face in the mirror and getting dressed in the same uniform that I wear everyday for work. Once I'm done, I go into the kitchen which doubles as my lounge and dining room, I grab an apple off of the counter and pull my lunch out of the fridge. I packed it last night, it's the same thing that I always eat- brown rice with string beans and chicken breasts. Walking out the front door, I don't stop to look back at my apartment as I set out on yet another uneventful, routine day.

***

Later that day, my partner and I are driving around, waiting for a call, when he brings up my appearance.

"Man, you look messed up, more messed up than usual anyway. What were you up to last night?" I look over at Brian then back to the road quickly. He is a good guy; he has his heart in all the right places. The only problem is that I am not looking for a friend or a companion. I come to work to escape my life and to maybe help someone else, not to buddy up to the guy in the seat next to me. Yet for all my boasting, I can't be rude to Brian- he reminds me of someone else and I don't want to ruin that memory. I shake my head to clear it, I don't need to start thinking of Brian as a friend. He is my partner and that's the end of the story.

"Just a bad night, that's all."

"Yeah, well, maybe you need to stop taking so many double shifts and take some time off. You know that you deserve it by now, right?"

"I'm not taking time off."

Brian doesn't respond to my curt comment and instead shuts his mouth. That still irritates me because if I didn't know any better I would think that he understands me and what my reaction means. A few moments later, he is whistling and dragging his hand through the wind outside the window, acting like a child rather than the adult he pretends to be.

"Unit 7. Copy."

The static alerts me to the radio and Brian picks up the handheld. Dispatch informs us of our next call at the local high school and I turn the sirens on as we make our way to the school.

* * *

As we rush through the corridors of the school, we try to make as little noise as possible so that we don't make a scene and bring attention to what is going on. There's a teacher rushing alongside me as he breathlessly tries to explain the situation to me. I get the gist of it: a fifteen year old boy, Cody Walters, had been having some troubles so he was seeing the school counsellor. Lately the counsellor had been worried about him so she was keeping an eye out and when he didn't show up for a class she went to look for him only to find him in a pool of blood in the boys bathroom.

His Last Words [COMPLETED]Where stories live. Discover now