Chapter 24 Chapter 24 Now

Now, I'm crying.There's no need to hide it, I didn't even try to hide it.Just let Dr. Peterson take a look.Let him see and let him think he has won.I don't care. I thought I had forgotten what fear, panic, and feelings of helplessness were.I thought I buried them so deep they couldn't hurt me anymore.But I didn't do it.Cold blood ran through my veins, my pulse pounded, adrenaline soared, and my hairs stood on end.I feel it now.As strong as ever. I let out a choked breath and realized I hadn't been breathing the whole time.My hands were clasped together, my battered right hand screaming in protest.I can't seem to keep my hands apart though.

I looked up, and the tears that Peterson was trying to get me to shed were welling up in my eyes.Now how to do? He stared at me in amazement, and I wondered if I had discovered the real him.He looked a little... confused.As if for the first time he was wondering if I might be telling the truth.For the first time in over a year, I felt a glimmer of hope. But the moment is fleeting.We're back to the way we were before: he's suspicious and condescending; I'm still a lunatic. "You did it, Heather," he whispered, looking at me intently. I didn't answer, but I frowned, making my position obvious.

"You did it," he repeated. "You killed your friends." Don't have any reaction.don't want.I controlled my face just in time to stop it from showing pain and anger. I know he thinks so, of course I do.I can see it in his eyes, in his lips.But hearing him say that still hurts my heart.Every time. But Dr. Peterson doesn't intend to stop there.He continued to speak softly in an emotionless voice, as if he was trying to put me into a trance; as if he were a master hypnotist trying to implant this truth, this false "truth" into my brain. "You killed them. Martin, Darren, and Emma. You murdered them. Strangled Martin and Emma, ​​drowned Darren." I was about to shake my head in denial when he raised a hand, Stop me, "They found the body, Heather. They found them, the body was half buried in the cairn. And the body didn't look like it fell from a high place or was caught by a huge claw No. The autopsy reports showed bruises on the necks of all three bodies, proving the cause of death was asphyxiation." Peterson paused, making sure my full attention was on him, "If you didn't pass out from the burns, did you Kill Dodge too?"

burn. Hearing this word, I couldn't help frowning.The blazing fire, the burning pain, burns everything to ashes.Sometimes I wake up in the night with a start, and for a moment I'm always terrified and think I'm still in the fire.Then, I would scream until there were thumping footsteps in the corridor, and after a series of clicks, the door of my ward was slammed open, and the nurses rushed in. But hearing Dodge's name, I finally broke free from the tormented memories.Anger makes memories less painful.I would never hurt Dodge.never.I stared at Dr. Peterson without blinking.He was a little surprised, the silence continued, continued...

continue. continue. Finally, he sighed and leaned forward.He held out a hand, as if to touch me, but decided not to, and kept his palm flat on the smooth wooden desk.very good.If he touches me with even a finger, I'll snap off his finger before the guards come and restrain me. "You killed them, Heather. Those were your friends. You buried the truth deep inside. Acknowledging and accepting it is part of the healing process." He took a slow breath.I resisted so much that I didn't spit at him. "I want you to tell me what you did. I want you to tell me that you took the lives of three friends and attempted to murder a fourth. I want you to say that you did it on purpose, And trying to hide the body. Admit it, Heather, we can start digging into this."

no way. The first time I heard this version, it was in the hospital.general hospital.I was strapped to the hospital bed, I figured, to keep me from moving and touching the wound, and I had tubes in my nose and tubes in my arms.My right hand was bandaged up to the elbow.I'm so tired, it's like looking at the world through a thick fog.I noticed a policeman standing outside my hospital room.I noticed, but I don't know why there are police.Didn't know it then. After a few days, I was able to stay awake longer and talk to others.Afterwards, a man in a suit came to see me.He asked me what happened and I told him.He left after listening, and then another person came.I didn't know him then, but I've seen him at least once a week since.Dr. Peterson asked me what was the matter and I told him too.He didn't frown like that person, but laughed, from the beginning to the end.I still remember thinking this guy was weird.

Then, he told me his version, in which I was a major character. In Peterson's version, I tricked Martin out of the camp and lured him to the cairn, where it was very quiet and undisturbed.Then, I poured him alcohol, he drank too much, and passed out. As soon as he lost consciousness, I put my hand on his throat and strangled him, strangling him hard. Then, I buried the body in the cairn. Back on the beach, I made excuses for Martin's disappearance, hid his stuff, and congratulated myself on a job well done.Darren and Emma became suspicious when they saw me leave with Martin.So, I killed them to silence them.

One murder turned into three murders. Later, I panicked, poured gasoline on the tent, and set fire to the tent.As a result, some gasoline was splashed on my hand, and it caught fire along with the tent.That's the only part I admit; even if I can't see the wound under the white bandage, I can still feel the pain of being burned by the fire.Dodge was sick and passed out in the other tent by then, so didn't know I killed three of his friends.Later, when he tried to stop me, I knocked him unconscious with a stone.I was so strong that I even smashed his skull and knocked him unconscious.Then, before I killed him, I couldn't bear the pain in my hand and passed out.

this story.The story was relayed to my parents and retold in court. The story becomes the truth.This is true for everyone except me. "Why would I do this?" I asked, uttering what was on my mind. "Why would I kill my friends?" Dr. Peterson was taken aback.After all, I have never been interested in this story.He wrote something quickly to hide his happiness, and then he looked at me. "You know why, Heather. Curiosity at work." I stared at him in amazement. "Death. You're obsessed with death. You want to see death. You want to see life go by. You want to play God, Experience what it's like to have supreme power."

I don't know what to say, I don't know how to answer.What Dr. Peterson said shocked me to the bone. I said nothing. Tick ​​tick.Tick ​​tick. This conversation is over.I just stared at the clock, and in the end, Peterson had no choice but to look at what I was looking at too.His features were crumpled.Time is up. "Let's talk about it next time, Heather. But I want you to think about what I said. You know what the truth is. It's out there, right in front of you. Hold on to it. Help yourself." I'm actually doing myself a favor: helping myself out of a chair.With that, I turn my back on Peterson and his story.The guard opened the door for me, and an impulse suddenly surged in me: I want to run.I know I'm not going anywhere, but I can't bear to stay in this room for even a second.Not even a millionth of a second.

I've practiced it before, so I resisted the stupid urge.I walked out of the gate calmly, and walked past Helen who was still typing away.She didn't look up to greet me as I passed. My temples were throbbing and throbbing.For the past two hours, I've been in a state of tension, with my head held in a vise.It has always been like this.I know this headache is going to last all night, and if I think about what we said in our meeting, if I yell my replies in fake vindictiveness to the imaginary stories Dr. Peterson etched into my head, I The headache will last longer.Normally, I would forget the content of the conversation as soon as possible, but I know that today I will not be able to do so. And it's all because he talked about the Dodgers.It made me miserable.I thought maybe he could get through this nightmare with me... I wished so much to see him.I asked, of course they wouldn't say yes.All I know is that Dodge is in the hospital with beeping machines monitoring his breathing and heartbeat.He's definitely still there.No one ever told me about it, but I just knew it.Otherwise they would have turned off his healing machines and let him die.In that case, there would be four lives in my name. I walked slowly down the corridor, my rubber-soled espadrilles creaking on the extraordinarily polished, imitation-marble linoleum.I looked around to make sure no one was looking at me.Then, for a split second, I closed my eyes and prayed: I need Dodge to wake up quickly. I need him to wake up and tell Dr. Peterson, tell my mother and everyone that I'm not a murderer. I need him to wake up and get me out of here.