Confessions About Colton (Wattpad Books Edition)

Denial - Chapter 1

After the police and ambulances arrived, the evidence unfolded before me. Someone escorted me away from the scene so the police officers could surround the area with barricade gates. As that was happening, a special marine unit was called in, and a couple of officers went out and collected the body, struggling to balance the weight of the passenger as they hauled him onto the boat. It rocked uneasily, threatening to tip, but soon enough, it balanced itself out and arrived back on the shore.

Seeing his pale and lifeless exterior should have been proof enough that it was him, but my brain told me otherwise. I came up with every single excuse for what my eyes were seeing. It was just a hallucination, a pure figment of my imagination as a result of pre-graduation excitement. I was mistaken and it was someone else, a stranger who looked similar. It was all a dream, and at any point, I would wake up and attend my graduation ceremony with my very-alive best friend standing beside me.

When his pocket watch and personal belongings were removed from his person to be inspected, I didn't blink. When they found his identification in his wallet, which would confirm it was him, I still didn't move a muscle. I was paralyzed. This was all a huge misunderstanding, a practical joke, an end-of-year showcase of hilarity. It was a stunt, an act, a gag. Colton wasn't dead.

Colton wasn't dead.

Colton wasn't dead.

Colton wasn't dead.

My older sister Cass was calling my name, faint and distant, an annoying hum in the background. "Elliot?"

A strange silence engulfed me, deafening my ears and causing me to wrap my arms around my head and hunch in defeat. My surroundings dimmed until I couldn't identify where I was. The scenery had become a blur, and my body felt numb.

"Elliot," Cass repeated when she reached me, pulling me to her. "I'm so sorry . . ."

"He's not dead!" I insisted, throwing her arms off me and backing away. "He's not. He can't be."

"They think he's been in the water for at least twenty-four hours," she whispered carefully, as if her word choice would shatter my sanity. "Elliot, they think he was murdered . . ."

Murdered.

The word sent a jolt of cold shivers rattling down my spine. I was down on my knees, my hands desperately clutching the ground as if I would float away if I didn't anchor myself. My heart was pounding so aggressively it felt like it would jump out with one of my heaving breaths.

The weight of a blanket suddenly engulfed me, and a heavy hand landed on my shoulder. "Come on, son."

I was pulled like a stubborn weed in the garden until I was standing upright and then moved until I found myself sitting at the back of an ambulance. A medic attended to me immediately, taking my blood pressure and checking for any injuries. But they couldn't provide the instant remedy I craved. I needed someone to open up my brain and erase the memory—the startlingly frightening image of seeing your best friend's lifeless body.

Shivering, I wrapped the blanket tighter around myself.

"He's in shock," I heard the medic say to the police officer that approached. "I don't think it's appropriate to ask questions at this time. Give him some time to recover."

I focused on a patch of dirt in front of me that was surrounded by bits of gravel and a few blades of grass desperately trying to flourish in a hopeless situation. The scene was exactly how I felt. From the corner of my eye, I could see a police officer talking grimly to the medic. My sister hovered close by.

"We'll need to get some information before he can go," the officer said. "Let's bring him down to the station, give him a cup of tea until he's ready to talk. In the meantime, may we interview you, Miss Parker?"