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Deadly Desire - Part One
“Shhh...it’s all going to be okay,” Yui had whispered into my ear. Those were the last words I heard before I ended up in this hospital bed, and I wish those were the last words I had ever heard. I hate it in this hospital, and I have been here since Sunday night. The bed was uncomfortable, the walls were plain and lifeless because they were painted white, but the paint was clearly chipping away, the curtains were outdated, and the TV was nothing but static. Shhhhhhhhhhh.
“Monica?” Nurse Eliza entered the room to check up on me. She is such a sweet woman; she is from France, and her accent is calming to listen to.
“Yes?” I reply, shaking my head. The sound of the TV static makes me zone out.
“Detective Thomas would like to speak with you about that night; may he come in or should we wait?” She smiled at me.
“He can come in now. Thank you very much, miss.” I smiled back at her. She put me at ease. Ease. Something I might not feel soon, as I was to leave the hospital and her presence soon. I looked up and saw the detective enter the room and sit down in one of the worn-out chairs next to my bed.
“Monica, I am just here to ask a few questions. If you get uncomfortable, just let me know, okay?” He glanced at me with a pleading glance. He could lose his daughter, Yui, who is currently at another hospital undergoing surgery. The glance was so soft and gentle, like a dog begging for food, but he was begging for my testimony. I nodded my head, taking a deep breath. He seemed pleading, but I knew him well, and he was more determined to find out the truth... You could see it in his expression—the pleading glance but the determination in his eyes.
“To make sure I have the information right before I begin asking questions, your name is Monica Resoma Jones. You are currently eighteen years old and have been living in Baldor since you were born. You know the rest..." he said, clearing his throat. Detective Thomas and my parents were close, and we both knew that the other questions were going to hurt us both. My mom died giving birth to me, and my dad overdosed, so I was left to be taken care of by my aunt Casey. My aunt Casey did not like me at all; every day she went on about how I was the reason she lost her little sister and her brother-in-law. She had two children, Stacey and Chase, who enjoyed my presence there. Stacey is around sixteen currently and is a big ball of light, and Chase is eighteen and is very chill. My uncle Wildred passed away not long after I arrived, which led my aunt to believe I was bad luck. She had talked about how Detective Thomas was happy and outgoing until that incident. He was supposed to take my dad to a mental hospital that night, but traffic got the best of him. Thomas thought it was his fault, but my aunt and I know it is mine. If my mom were alive, then my dad would have been happy and would not have even thought about overdosing. My father would not have overdosed, Thomas would have stayed the same, my mom would have been alive, and everyone would have been happy. He seems more serious now compared to the past him that my aunt Casey had told me about. He stays to himself; he looks as worn out as the curtains in my hospital room. Sometimes I wonder what everything would be like if I were never born, and now I wish that I were never born. I wish that it were my life rather than my mother's or my father’s. In this small town called Baldor, everyone is cursed. Cursed. I feel as if I am a curse. I am a cursed victim to my family and to this town in general. Cursed. Victim.
“Yes.” I reply, already dreading looking at his miserable expression as I confirm and tell him the details.
“Then, Monica, would you please tell me what happened Sunday? Sunday, October 23rd to 24th, 2023, from 5:00 p.m. to 1:00 a.m. He looked me dead in the eyes, and that pleading look was no longer there. It was a cold, hard glare. He wanted justice for what had happened to the kids, to the teenagers, and to the innocents. Sadly, I am one of the only three survivors and able to speak. To speak the truth. The truth about the night was that everything went downhill at that camp. The camp that no one will ever forget, where the innocent children were being slaughtered as if they were nothing more than prey.
© Mari
“Monica?” Nurse Eliza entered the room to check up on me. She is such a sweet woman; she is from France, and her accent is calming to listen to.
“Yes?” I reply, shaking my head. The sound of the TV static makes me zone out.
“Detective Thomas would like to speak with you about that night; may he come in or should we wait?” She smiled at me.
“He can come in now. Thank you very much, miss.” I smiled back at her. She put me at ease. Ease. Something I might not feel soon, as I was to leave the hospital and her presence soon. I looked up and saw the detective enter the room and sit down in one of the worn-out chairs next to my bed.
“Monica, I am just here to ask a few questions. If you get uncomfortable, just let me know, okay?” He glanced at me with a pleading glance. He could lose his daughter, Yui, who is currently at another hospital undergoing surgery. The glance was so soft and gentle, like a dog begging for food, but he was begging for my testimony. I nodded my head, taking a deep breath. He seemed pleading, but I knew him well, and he was more determined to find out the truth... You could see it in his expression—the pleading glance but the determination in his eyes.
“To make sure I have the information right before I begin asking questions, your name is Monica Resoma Jones. You are currently eighteen years old and have been living in Baldor since you were born. You know the rest..." he said, clearing his throat. Detective Thomas and my parents were close, and we both knew that the other questions were going to hurt us both. My mom died giving birth to me, and my dad overdosed, so I was left to be taken care of by my aunt Casey. My aunt Casey did not like me at all; every day she went on about how I was the reason she lost her little sister and her brother-in-law. She had two children, Stacey and Chase, who enjoyed my presence there. Stacey is around sixteen currently and is a big ball of light, and Chase is eighteen and is very chill. My uncle Wildred passed away not long after I arrived, which led my aunt to believe I was bad luck. She had talked about how Detective Thomas was happy and outgoing until that incident. He was supposed to take my dad to a mental hospital that night, but traffic got the best of him. Thomas thought it was his fault, but my aunt and I know it is mine. If my mom were alive, then my dad would have been happy and would not have even thought about overdosing. My father would not have overdosed, Thomas would have stayed the same, my mom would have been alive, and everyone would have been happy. He seems more serious now compared to the past him that my aunt Casey had told me about. He stays to himself; he looks as worn out as the curtains in my hospital room. Sometimes I wonder what everything would be like if I were never born, and now I wish that I were never born. I wish that it were my life rather than my mother's or my father’s. In this small town called Baldor, everyone is cursed. Cursed. I feel as if I am a curse. I am a cursed victim to my family and to this town in general. Cursed. Victim.
“Yes.” I reply, already dreading looking at his miserable expression as I confirm and tell him the details.
“Then, Monica, would you please tell me what happened Sunday? Sunday, October 23rd to 24th, 2023, from 5:00 p.m. to 1:00 a.m. He looked me dead in the eyes, and that pleading look was no longer there. It was a cold, hard glare. He wanted justice for what had happened to the kids, to the teenagers, and to the innocents. Sadly, I am one of the only three survivors and able to speak. To speak the truth. The truth about the night was that everything went downhill at that camp. The camp that no one will ever forget, where the innocent children were being slaughtered as if they were nothing more than prey.
© Mari
