The storm outside roared like an untamed beast, rattling the windows and sending a shiver down my spine. Lightning slashed through the night, momentarily illuminating the dim room where I stood, gripping a knife so tightly my knuckles turned white.
"Kairo. . ."
I whispered his name, but my voice barely rose above a breath. The weight in my stomach churned, nausea creeping up my throat.
The heavy blue curtains danced violently in the wind, their frayed edges whispering secrets I couldn't understand. My breath hitched as I staggered backward, my bare feet pressing against the ice-cold wooden floor. My entire body trembled, slick with a mixture of sweat and fear.
The body on the bed remained still. Blood seeped into the sheets, forming a scarlet halo around his pale, lifeless face. His eyes were wide open, staring—no, burning—into me, and the faint, eerie smile that still curled on his lips made my stomach lurch. His veins bulged like dark, twisted vines, frozen in the agony of his final moments.
A whirlwind of thoughts crashed into me, suffocating and relentless. My legs trembled, yet I stood frozen in place. My chest tightened as if a vice had wrapped around my ribs, trapping every breath inside me. I wanted to run. To scream until my throat tore but no sound came out.
A single drop of sweat trickled down my temple. I wiped it away, only to smear warm, sticky blood across my forehead. The metallic scent clung to my skin, burning, and making my lips twitch.
"Ha ha. . ." A breathless laugh escaped me, unnatural and shaky.
My mind spiraled, the weight of what had happened pressing down on my chest like a heavy stone. Blood still dribbled from his nose and mouth, the scent filling my nostrils. It clung to my hands and clothes—staining me, marking me. My once-white shirt was now a canvas for my sin.
Desperation clawed at me. I rubbed my hands against the fabric, trying to erase the evidence, but the crimson stain refused to budge. It had settled deep into my skin, branding me a murderer.
I wanted to scream, to run, to claw at my flesh until I felt clean again. But I couldn't move. My lungs burned with each shallow breath, and my vision swam. something's at the door. . . I can hear something. It's faint but I can hear it and by the sound of it, it's like one of those walkie-talkies. It's coming at my front door and it's just a few meters away from me.
My heart is beating so rapidly to the point that I feel like it will burst out of my chest at any moment. However, the gentle and cold night helped me in some ways. The quiet nightfall somehow allowed me to focus on my surroundings more. Then, I got to focus, the sound became more lucid.
Then, the sirens.
"Police! Open the door!"
"Mr. Sawyer! We know you're in there! We're gonna count to three! Open the door!"
"One!"
My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms. Think! Think! But my thoughts were a tangled mess of fear and regret. If they saw me like this, covered in his blood, there would be no convincing them.
"Two!"
I jolted, my body screaming at me to move. My eyes darted around the room, seeking escape. I couldn't just stand here! Fuck—
"Three!"
A loud crash sent a jolt of panic through my chest. I whipped my head toward the door—only to see it explode open, slamming against the wall with a force that rattled my entire apartment.
A blinding light followed. Instinctively, I threw up an arm, shielding my eyes from the harsh glare.
"Put your hands in the air!"
"Move! Move! Move!"
"Hands in the air, now!"
Black-vested officers flooded my apartment like a swarm. Their helmets gleamed under the flickering light, and every single one of them had a gun aimed right at me.
My breath hitched. My body froze.
"W-Wait! Hold on! What the hell is happening?!"
"Hands up!"
My arms shot up, trembling. My brain scrambled to catch up with the chaos unfolding around me, but it was too fast—too overwhelming.
One of the officers lowered his weapon and stepped closer. The room spun as panic gripped my chest, squeezing tighter with every passing second.
"Mr. Sawyer, you're under arrest."
Holy fuck. WHAT THE FUCK.
My stomach dropped. My legs tensed, instincts screaming at me to run. To bolt. But the loaded barrels pointed in my direction said otherwise. My heartbeat slammed against my ribs. My vision blurred and pulsed with each erratic thump in my chest.
No. No, no, no. Not now.
One of the officers stepped forward, pulling off his helmet. He was older—probably three times my age—but his sharp eyes held the kind of experience that sent a chill down my spine.
Then he moved.
A swift kick aimed right for my foot. I barely dodged it, jerking to the side just in time. Despite the suffocating tightness in my lungs, my body reacted on instinct.
But I was right.
He was fast—too fast. Before I could regain my footing, he struck again. His boot clipped my knee, hard. My balance crumbled, and I hit the floor with a harsh thud.
"Fuck—!" I gasped, trying to push myself up. "No! Please, there has to be a mistake! I didn't—!"
A voice cut through the chaos, cold and final.
"Mr. Sawyer. You're under arrest."
I gasped, my mind unraveling. No. No, this isn't happening! My chest heaved, panic clawing at my throat as the officer snapped cold metal cuffs around my wrists. The sharp bite of steel felt like a final verdict.
"Please! No! You. . .you don't understand!" My voice cracked as I fought against his grip. "Please, listen to me! You're mistaken! I did not kill him!"
I struggled against the weight pinning me down. My breath hitched, ragged, and uneven, my chest rising and falling like a caged animal desperate for escape. My wrists throbbed against the cold bite of metal cuffs. The room felt smaller, suffocating.
I tried to shift, but the weight against my back only pressed harder. "Please, get. . . get off me, please. . ." My voice barely carried, weak and trembling, but still, I fought.
The officer above me barely flinched. "Search the room," he ordered.
I sucked in a sharp breath, watching as another officer moved across the apartment. His gaze swept over the space before halting near the small wooden table in the living room.
My stomach dropped.
My pleas fell on deaf ears. My vision blurred, but through the chaos, I caught a glimpse of a small box on the table that I didn't even know was there. A yellow sticky note was attached to the top, my name scrawled in shaky red letters: Sawyer, A.
One of the officers stepped forward, slicing the tape with a pocket knife. The lid flipped open.
The room plunged into silence.
A lump formed in my throat as I watched the contents spill out, realization slamming into me like a freight train. And the moment he flipped the box open and revealed what was inside, my jaw dropped instantly. The realization… everything hit me all at once. It felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over me, and I turned into stone, frozen in place.
I just stared with wide eyes, as if the whole world was breaking and crumbling apart around me... I didn't even tremble. I just stayed there, completely numb and dumbfounded, all I could do was faintly mumble what I saw on the box. I let them open it without realizing what would happen to me after that.
"Drugs…?"