11.
Lauren: the next day
by: Val
“You have to tell me what you saw.”
I just shook my head. I couldn’t say anything.
Amelia sat down next to me on the ratty, tweed couch and rested her elbows on her knees. She took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure why I ended up in the living room of Amelia’s house. But there I was.
She had come for me that morning without any questions - other than, “Where are you?”
“At my aunt’s house - she lives at Grove and Boulevard.”
“Don’t move. I’m coming to get you. Do you hear me, Lauren? Do not move.” With that, she hung up.
She pulled up in front of my aunt’s house in a beat-up old Accord about 15 minutes later. I called some lame excuse to my mom about getting lunch with some friends - luckily she’s been pretty occupied with helping Aunt Carol handle the continually gruesome details of Courtney’s death, so she wasn’t really concerned about where I was going.
I shuffled out the door, down the steps, and into the passenger seat of Amelia’s car. She didn’t say anything; she just pulled away from the curb and drove. I was glad she didn’t want to talk yet. I still couldn’t wrap my head around what I saw the night before - or the fact that some of Lily’s blood was still smeared on my shoe.
After Amelia and I had parted ways outside of Grandma’s, I felt a slight buzz coming from my back pocket. I reached for my phone and flipped it open. Lily had called about 20 minutes before - I guessed I missed it with all of the commotion of trying to get into Grandma’s and then getting accosted by Amelia.
I dialed my voice mail and heard a message from Lily. It was a typical Lily voice mail: really loud and broken up by her conversations with people around her. Eventually she called out an address, saying the Tom’s friends were having people over which would be better than trying to scream over the all of the people at Grandma’s.
The building was pretty nondescript - just your standard apartment building on the corner of Stuart and Navy. I walked through the front door cautiously because both the porch light and the light in the building entrance looked like they had been smashed in. Unfortunate but not strange - this neighborhood is pretty well-known for the rowdiness of its college/post-college residents. I expected there to be a lot more noise going on, but as I walked up the stairs to apartment 2A, things seemed to get quieter.
I knocked on the door, a little pissed because I figured Lily had gotten the address wrong. But, with my first knock, the door pushed open. It was dark and eerily silent in the apartment. Everything I had ever been taught told me not to go in there, but still I stepped inside.
I fumbled around in the darkness, trying to find a light. Running my hand against the wall, I eventually made contact with a switch plate. I flipped the switch. Nothing. I kept searching along the wall, eventually bumping into what I took to be a lamp. My fingers crept down the shade and found the switch. Again, nothing. I followed the shape of the lamp down to the table it was resting on. My hand landed on what was undoubtedly a remote control. I pointed into the air, frantically pushing the buttons as the realization of how dark it really was in there started to make me panic a little.
A television in the corner of the room snapped on, the light from its screen sporadically bouncing off of the surfaces in the room. I was able to make out a couch, a table, and someone hanging from the ceiling fan about 4 feet from where I was standing.
I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Instead, at that very moment, every light in the apartment suddenly flashed back on, revealing the carnage that I had unknowingly been walking around for the last five minutes. In the living room I could see two figure, a girl and a guy (who I am assuming was Tom) slumped on the floor, each in their own pool of blood. I couldn’t help but walk towards them. Maybe one of them was still alive.
As I crossed over into the living room, I noticed that the blood on the floor wasn’t limited to the pool surrounding the two people on the floor. Tiny red splotches made a path on the hardwood floor back to the other end of the apartment. A path that looked like it belonged to someone who was trying to get away. I followed the path toward the kitchen in the back of the apartment. It continued into a closet on the other side of the room, right next to the door opening out onto the fire escape.
I opened to the door of the closet. I didn’t see her face but I recognized her red curls immediately - she always let them go loose and wild like that. Lily was curled up next to the water heater, knees to chest. Blood surrounded her, starting from a deep gash in her stomach and trickling out of the doorway where I was standing.
I couldn’t scream or run or anything. I just walked out and called the police. I didn’t give my name - I just told them that I had heard a lot of screaming coming from the apartment.
I stood at the end of the hall and waited for the police to get there. I didn’t want to talk to them, but I had to know what was going to happen. It was too dark to see them come inside, but I heard two sets of feet meander up the stairs and toward the front door of 2A. Sobs formed in my chest and throat, but I choked them back as I strained to hear what they were saying. Their conversation was muffled at first but became more clear and frantic as they discovered what I saw just a few moments before.
The following minutes were confusing. A lot of yelling and stomping up and down the stairs. Cops coming in urgent swarms and leaving in more urgent swarms a few moments later. A different pair of feet shuffling up the stairs and going into the apartment, only to be followed by what sounded like another police stampede up the fire escape. Two figures darted out the front door and down the steps as I heard the police explode into the kitchen in the back of the apartment.
“Whoa!” one of them shouted out. “We got another one in here. Up the tally to four. Man, what a nightmare!”
I took that as my cue. They had found everyone, they knew everything I knew, so I could go. I eased my way back down the hall and down the stairs. Once the air outside hit my face, I broke into a run. Tears (well, pennies) rolled off my cheeks, hitting the surfaces around me with an inappropriately pleasant pings.
What happened that night was obviously too much to share with my family - but for some reason I felt like I had to tell Amelia about it. The events of the last few days were all too bizarre not to be connected.
And yet, while I sat on Amelia’s couch, her staring at me intently, I couldn’t find a way to begin. My eyes started to fill as a painful lump took shape in my throat. Amelia leaned forward and scooped the pennies away from my eyes. She clicked them back and forth in her hands, deep in thought, the floor lamp giving off green and yellow sparks with every breath she took.