Two Truths and a Lie

Chapter Eight

I pull my car into the first open spot I can see through the down pour of rain and pull my key from the ignition.  My breathing comes in uneven pants.  I feel like I’m drowning.  The sound of the rain pelting against the hood of my car sounds like a machine gun, the sound of shots ringing through my ears.

Do it.

I open the driver’s side door and step out, into the storm.  I pull my grey hoodie over my head, but the thin material is already soaked.  A round of thunder sounds, shaking the ground beneath my feet.  For Triton, I tell myself.  I feel a single drop of water fall down my cheek.  At this point, I can’t tell if it’s a rain drop, or a teardrop.

With my head down, I reach my hands out, making contact with ice cold metal.  Without a second thought I push hard, falling through a doorway.  The once damp black asphalt is now blinding white, dirty linoleum tiles.  I look up, my eyes wide and filled with fear.

Several faces stare back at me, but only one catches my attention.  A pair of light green eyes much like the ones of someone else I know.  Someone that needs to be protected.

I step forward, my feet thinking before my mind catches up with them, and I suddenly find myself standing in the middle of Southold Police Station.  My dark brown hair clings to the sides of my face, my grey hoodie suction cupped to my skin, drops of water rolling down the sleeves, onto the floor.

Do it, my mind tells me again.  It’s all you have.

Taking a deep breath, I stare the green eyed officer in the face.

“My name is Kadence Greene.” Thunder sounds from outside, the lights in the building dip.  I hold my hands out, preparing my wrists for the nearest officer.

“And I killed Raina Palatas.”

I shoot up gasping for air.  The room is dark, but the glow of my TV reassures me that I am in my bedroom, not the police station.  My breathing hitches uncontrollably as I try to calm myself, tears streaming down my face.

Ripping the blanket from my body, cold air hits my legs as I get up and jerkily walk towards my bathroom.  I frantically search for the light switch and slam my hand against them all, causing both the light and fan to turn on.  Shutting my eyes tightly, I shield them from the sudden burst of brightness, but instead see the inside of a police station.  Dirty, white linoleum tiles.  Opening my eyes, I face my feet.  Dark, hard wood sits beneath them.

What is happening to me, I think to myself, another round of tears streaming from my eyes.

I look up and stare into the mirror.  Someone I no longer recognize stares back at me.  Someone that I had left behind the day Triton was arrested.  Someone who is weak.  Someone who depends on others to console her. Someone who was me, two years ago.  Someone I do not miss.

“You- you need to cal- calm down,” I say to the girl in the mirror.  I hold my breath.  Tears stain my cheeks, my blue eyes glassy, my hair matted against the sides of my face.  Drops of water rolling down my arms.

“Stop,” I say, closing my eyes and grabbing at the root of my hair, “stop thinking about it.”

I open my eyes and grab at the hand towel that sits on the counter before me.   I grab at it, my hands gripping it for dear life, as I wipe the trails of dampness from my cheeks.  Without letting go, I make my way from the bathroom back into my dark bedroom.  Suddenly, the dark does not comfort me.

I lean across my bed, and turn on my side table lamp, illuminating the room before me in a soft, golden haze.  Calm down, I tell myself as I sit down, taking deep breaths.  I pick at the end of the towel, twisting a frayed string around my finger.  Looking up, I stare at the window before me.  The outside shows no sign of light.