Don't Let Me Die: A gripping psychological thriller Read online

  “Even though you’ve always been the more fortunate of the two, the one who had things all worked out and under control?”

  I stop in my tracks. “What are you getting at, Doctor Shaw? Are you trying to say that I am jealous of him not being in the gutter? That I’m upset because we’ve swapped places on the food chain? I thought our session was over?”

  “It’s not like that at all, Emma. But it would be entirely reasonable to think that way. We come to classify the people we know with our own hierarchy, whether we mean to or not. On a subconscious level, James will always be a failure in your eyes, someone who will never get over the death of his fiancée.”

  “Jesus,” I let out. “How fucking cold do you think I am?”

  Shaw places a hand on my shoulder. “No more than the next person. We are all human. We are flawed, emotional creatures who see ourselves as the hero of our own stories. Any interruption or change to this dynamic will always impact us on some level.”

  I let her idea run through my head. Maybe an unconscious part of me might have once taken the slightest bit of pleasure in seeing James below me, but the rest of my brain doesn’t think that way. I only want what is best for my brother. If he truly had found success because of an indirect push from me, then I’m glad I offered him the money all those years ago.

  “It’s something to think about,” Doctor Shaw says as she leaves. “If, for any reason, you are not up for a visit from James, please notify me as soon as you can.”

  I nod as I sway on the spot, waiting for the one-sided conversation to be over. “Is that all?” I ask.

  “For now,” Shaw says. She turns away without another word and leaves through the security checkpoint, moving out of the ward of crazy people. None of the doctors stay on this side of the gate for long. I don’t blame them. The patients littering this place are past saving. How the staff can stand to work in here is beyond me, and downright nuts.

  With nothing better to do, I head for my room. I’m feeling more tired than normal after the session with Shaw. I don’t know if the thought of seeing James again is dragging me down, or if the progress we have made is leading me closer and closer to the event.

  A shudder slides down my spine as I try to force away thoughts of that night, thoughts of him, thoughts of the betrayal his eyes cast upon my soul. Darren or Frank: one of them is dead.

  “No!” I yell out loud as I sit on the end of my squeaky bed. The noise melts into the fold, adding to the rest of the cacophony of chaos, while also managing to take me away from my fractured memories.

  I still don’t know who those eyes belong to, but the rest of his face is forming in my mind, and there is nothing I can do to stop it coming.

  Nineteen

  The day before seems like a blur when I wake from only a few hours of sleep. I decided to take two pills overnight, hoping to avoid waking up with dilated pupils. The halved amount doesn’t work the way it should, so I end up wasting the tablets. The discovery makes me realize I’ll only sleep overnight with the help of Tom. I still have no confirmation of what he’ll want in return for his discretion, but I can guess. I shudder to think of the possibilities. I’ll deal with them when the time comes.

  I feel like a dead weight in the shower. The hot water only lasts about three minutes on average, and the pressure is weak. I scrub myself as clean as the hospital will allow.

  After, I put on fresh clothing and wait for my door to unlock at the hands of Tom. As much as I hate that asshole, his familiar face calms me when I see it in the small viewing window. There’s something positive to be said about the hospital’s strict routines.

  Tom arrives on schedule and strolls in with a straight back and stiff upper lip.

  “On your feet, Turner,” he says as his scans my clean room. I keep the empty area spotless of dirt and dust. Not for the orderlies or the doctors, but for myself.

  “Shaw tells me you’ve got a visitor.”

  “That’s right, my brother,” I reply.

  “Brother, huh? So that’s who came to see you the other day. I was starting to get jealous.” Tom laughs out loud at his terrible joke. “Has he come to visit his sister in the nuthouse? Poor bastard. If any of my family members ended up in this shit-hole, they’d be lucky if I came to see them once a year.”

  I give Tom a fake smile that quickly fades into a scowl. He knows how to grind the patients enough not to be responsible for any slippage in progress his behavior might cause. How can a man like this be allowed to work with people in this sensitive an environment? Did they not run personality checks when they hired these meatheads? I figure the problem might be the job itself. Who would want to work in such a profession?

  Before I realize what’s going on, Tom is escorting me along the ward as if I’m a lost child at the mall. It’s like being dragged around by an underpaid security guard who had his doughnut break interrupted by some rowdy teenagers.

  Tom runs his mouth to everyone we pass, patient or staff. He struts through the ward like he’s the mayor of Crazy Town, USA. I let the idea run inside me and out of my face as a smile cracks through my frowning skin.

  “Something funny?”

  I shake my head, losing the brief second of enjoyment. No patient is ever allowed to find the smallest piece of happiness when Tom is around.

  I arrive at the visitors’ room and spot James already sitting at an empty table in the middle of the area. He appears uneasy with the noise of patients around, as he keeps checking over his shoulders for an attack that might come. I understand the feeling he’s having. You never want to become used to a place like this.

  James spots me and brightens the room with his warm smile. I’m still trying to force my head around the fact that he is now happy. The image I had of my brother over the last five years becomes almost unreal given the way he now carries himself. It’s not just the way he dresses or his new hairstyle; there’s an aura about him I can’t explain. He looks complete. I wonder if I’ll ever feel that way again. I doubt it.

  “Hi, Emma,” James says with a quick wave as I arrive in front of him. He places both of his hands forward on the table and interlaces his fingers, keeping a straight back.

  “Hello,” I say as I sit down. Tom leaves, muttering away under his breath. I don’t want to know what he said.

  “How have you been?”

  I shrug. “You know. Same old. Nothing’s changed since your last visit, if that’s what you’re asking me.”

  Both of James’s hands fly up in defense. “Just a question, Emma. Probably not the best one to ask you, either. I meant no offense.”

  “None taken. So, how have you been?” I ask on autopilot.

  “I’m all right,” he says, dismissing the question as diplomatically as possible. I can see he has something he wants to tell me from the excitement in his eyes.

  “Why are you here?” I blurt out.

  A smile forms on the side of his mouth. He leans over and down to the ground and grabs at a small, leather-bound bag. He places the object on the table and unzips a compartment. After a quick rummage, he pulls out what appears to be a folder.

  “Is that—”

  “Yes, copies of the police reports. But don’t worry, I’m not here to show you anything disturbing. I’ve come with news. Something I wanted to tell you the other day but decided against unloading on you during the first visit.”

  “What?” I ask. I can hear the anger brewing in my voice. If I view even one photo of the crime scene, my mind will explode. I know in my heart that I’m not ready to face it yet.

  “The police put the investigation on hold a month ago, as you know.”

  “Yes,” I say with closed eyes and gritted teeth. The decision by the police to move on from the unsolved case that destroyed my life was the final nail in the coffin that sent me to this place. I will never forget the way they dismissed my every idea or suggestion.

  “I’ve reopened the investigation,” James says.

  “What do you mean?”<
br />
  He leans in close, keeping the files tight and orderly. “I’ve hired a private investigator to do some digging and look into the case for me. If he can find any new leads, then the police might consider giving this their attention again.”

  My eyes dart around in my head. I’m unsure what to think at this moment. Part of me wants to scream and tell James to go away and never come back, while the rest of me wants to hug him. The split in emotions seems to be my response to any given situation these days. It’s tiring, to say the least.

  “Good,” I force out with the best version of a smile I can create.

  “I realize this isn’t easy, but this guy is the most skilled in the state. He’s helped countless families bring justice to guilty parties and holds an impeccable record when it comes to this sort of thing. Of course, he isn’t cheap, but I don’t want you to worry about that. I’ve got it covered.”

  “James, I don’t know what to say. I’ll pay you back for any costs,” I say, unsure exactly how much money I really have. Things like bills and savings don’t feel real anymore. It seems as if I exist in a world without money.

  He holds up a hand to dismiss me. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, I can afford this, trust me. I know it’s hard to picture me with anything more than a few hundred bucks to my name, but I’m doing okay these days.”

  I can tell from his face that he must be doing more than “okay.” I try to let that thought comfort me. James having spare money means I don’t ever have to worry about him again. I tried for the first few months after our father passed away to send him money, but he refused to communicate with me, Darren, or Frank. Eventually, the money went into our mortgage and Darren’s business.

  “So, I’ll bet you are wondering if we’ve found anything yet.”

  I hadn’t been. I can only focus on a limited number of ideas at the moment. I allow myself to think about the official police investigation. After the event, there was little evidence or leads for the detectives to pursue. They searched the area, spoke to the neighbors, canvassed the neighborhood, and even checked in with people I worked with. Not a single clue or piece of useful information came to light. The man who had changed my life disappeared into the night.

  “As you know,” James says, “the police found very little that night. They investigated for the next two days and lessened their inquiries by the end of the week. After that, the case was put on hold, no doubt in preparation to shelve the whole incident. I can imagine it was a painful blow, to say the very least.”

  I nod with small movements as I stare at the table and hide my fingers in my sleeves.

  “Now, we are far from solving this thing, but my guy found something worth talking about.”

  “What?” I ask as I gaze into his eyes. I can recognize overwhelming quantities of positivity I can’t remember being there before. He was a whole new person.

  “Victor’s cousin, Karlo. He skipped town soon after what happened. The police initially thought he’d been out of the area working, but my guy found some proof that he packed up and left within six hours of the crime.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “Across the state lines. Unfortunately, the trail runs cold after that, but we’re working on finding someone he ran into or utilized to leave Illinois without tipping off the cops. He possibly thought the police wanted to question him, so it’s no surprise he left the way he did.”

  “Prick,” I mutter at the thought of Karlo.

  “Yes, he is. Now, we can’t say for certain that he’s the guy who did this, but if the shoe fits.”

  “I know he’s the one,” I say too loudly. “He wanted to ruin our lives because of Victor. That piece of shit blamed us for what happened to his cousin like it was our fault Victor screwed up and fell off that house.”

  “It’s okay,” James says, placing one hand on my forearm for a slight moment. “We’ll find him. It’s only a matter of time. Then we’ll get his confession on record, and he’ll go away for a long time.”

  “Screw time. I want him to go to the chair.”

  “Not in this state, but we could get him locked away for life with enough evidence. I’ve also got a lawyer advising me on what the police will need for a maximum sentence to stick. When we catch this bastard, he won’t know what hit him.”

  I sit back and close my eyes as I try to imagine Karlo coming to justice. I never saw the face of the man who did this to my family, but the profile picture I found online of him still haunts me. I tried to tell the police the second they arrived to arrest him, but they took their time, not wanting to jump to conclusions because I said so.

  I remember screaming his name to the detectives. Karlo matched the height of my attacker. I had spotted him before it all happened near our house in that beat-up sedan. And now, apparently, he was there, in town for six fucking hours, but the police didn’t respond in time. I’d never felt more robbed of anything in my life.

  I focus on James and lean toward him. “Please find him for me. If it’s the last thing I do, I want to stare into his eyes and—” I can’t finish my sentence as tears and emotions choke me into a blubbering mess. My head drops to the table as my hands cover me up.

  “It’s okay,” James says. “I’m here for you, Emma. We’ll get this guy. I promise you.”

  Twenty

  The next morning, I don’t wake up. It’s kind of hard to when you don’t sleep. James’s visit left me so confused that I forgot to take any pills. Now, I’m paying for it as I promise myself to take the remaining six tablets when lights-out hits some fifteen hours from now.

  Like a zombie, I shuffle to the bathroom and shower. I wait for the hot water to run out and remain inside the cramped space. The warm liquid gradually turns so cold that it could wake the dead. After a full minute of standing in the freezing stream, I shut the taps off.

  I dry off as fast as I can and dress for the day. The cold wakes me but also leaves me shivering. With no blankets or sheets on my bed, I’m forced to layer up as much as possible with extra clothing. Half the reason I don’t sleep well in here is due to the simple fact that they won’t give me any bedding out of fear I might use it to kill myself. The thought makes me chuckle. If I’m going to end it all, it won’t be with a bunch of cheap bedsheets.

  After the usual blur of activity, I find myself out in the courtyard again. The area is free of patients, allowing me a moment of calm before a yell in the distance reminds me where I am. I try to block out the noise of a patient arguing with an orderly as I stare up at the leaves of the silver maple found in the courtyard.

  After a few moments, the smell of the tree hits my brain. I instantly think back to when James and I were young kids. We’d spend our Saturdays lazing about in our parents’ backyard by the silver maple my father was so proud of. The tree was taller than any other I’d ever seen, especially to my youthful eyes. We’d sit under the tree and hang out for hours. James would play with his handheld video games, while I read my way through the classic Nancy Drew series. We couldn’t be separated.

  Our parents would constantly tell us both that we’d always have a friend for life being twins. I would never have thought otherwise until we became adults and the pressures of life finally reared their ugly head. I managed to get by, while James went from one struggle to the next. It killed me seeing him like that, but he refused any help my parents or I offered him.

  But I guess he got there in the end. Maybe the years of hardship built him up into the resilient man he was today. Maybe my cushy ride up until this point had set me up for permanent failure.

  I come back to reality when Andrea walks outside and interrupts.

  “Emma. What brings you out here?”

  “Nothing,” I reply. “Just thought I’d find some peace, you know?”

  Andrea laughs at the concept. “I don’t think that’s even remotely possible in this hell hole.” She walks over to me and ushers me out of sight of the doorway back inside.

  “So, how did you go with
your new friends?”

  “New friends?” I ask, my face a blank canvas of ignorance.

  “The pills, dummy.”

  My eyes widen as I realize what she meant. “Good the first night. Not so good the next.”

  “What went wrong on night two?”

  I explain to her about under dosing and the need to rely on Tom. She nods away but comes in close to me. “You gotta take enough to do the job. Otherwise, there’s no point.”

  I show my understanding as something painfully obvious hits me. “I only have six left. Do you think you can find me some more?”

  Andrea shifts around. “Without question. Except they’re going to cost you.”

  I was expecting this classic tactic drug pushers utilized. “How much?” I ask.

  “Twenty.”

  A reasonable price, I think to myself. “I should be able to secure that without hassle.” I have around eighty dollars stashed away in my belongings at the front desk, everything I had on me when they hauled me in here. I just need to collect it somehow.

  “Not twenty for the sleeve; twenty per pill.”

  My mouth falls open as I resist the urge to scream. “Are you kidding me? I’m not paying two hundred forty dollars for something I can buy from the pharmacy for a lot less.”

  “Be my guest,” Andrea says. “You’re here voluntarily, right?”

  My brows lower into a scowl. “You know I’m not. Besides, I don’t have that kind of money on me. Not here, anyway.”

  Andrea crosses her arms. “Then find it. Ask someone to bring it in for you. I saw that guy who visited you yesterday. He looked like he could spare some cash.”

  “This is bullshit. I’m not going to ask my brother to front me money to supply my drug dealer. The doctors will find out in a flash.”

  Andrea starts to walk away. “Not my problem.”

  I throw my arm out and grab at her shoulder. “Wait, you can’t just—”

  A hand leaps out and slaps me clean in the face. I spin away from the blow and check my face for blood. I find none. What I do find is a steaming Andrea staring back at me.