Thirty-Eight

"Daniel may be many things but he's no murderer. There must be some other explanation. The thallium must've been in the salt or ... Or something. Daniel would never do that. No."
"Okay... Okay. You're getting upset. Let's not talk about this now. Later, yeah?"
"Of course."
"Good." Dahab actually smiles at me and I can't help but be mesmerised. And not in a good way. Someone is trying to kill me and they're going to frame Daniel for it? No fucking way. I won't allow it.
"Daniel would never hurt me," I say. Not sure if I'm trying to convince my Aunt or myself. It could be both. He just wouldn't, right?
He's my brother. He loves me.
"Now I don't know what's keeping Daniel but the police will come talk to you now. I'll tell them you're awake. " she says, standing on her feet now.
"We're working with our lawyers to get your brother a lighter sentence. The police also believe he killed your father although no new evidence has come to light. I really don't know what to believe anymore. I love him, so obviously I refuse to believe my own nephew killed his own father in such a animalistic manner. Until the police find otherwise, I will help him. Both Ali and I will."
I nodded and then wince. The pain shoots up my neck.
"That's all, I guess."
Dahab walks towards the door.
"I'm starting to believe that Papa was right." Just never gave it much thought before today.
Dahab stops at the door and whips her head around and asks, "About? He was always right."
I hesitate but chicken out of what I was really planning to say, instead I say the first thing that comes to mind: "He said something about loving me more than I love him."
"Hmm," she says, while she deliberates. Face a mask-like feature. "You're still sceptical, why?" Dahab fails to hide the rage of curiosity in her voice.
"I don't think it's possible. There is no way, he could love me more than life itself."
Dahab laughs and the air carries off the delightful sound. "Oh but he does. I mean did." And then her eyes shift away from me, towards the now occupied doorway. "Detectives." She nods. Softly but stiffly.
"Yes ma'am. May we come in?"
"Yes. I was just leaving." She turns towards me with a smile and tender eyes. "Call honey, if you need anything. I'll be just down the hall."
That throws me for a second. Call honey, that's what a caring Aunt would say and Dahab fits that category to a tee. Of course she does. Of course.
The police are by my bedside in a heart beat. Two men and a woman. The same ones that came to my house when Papa died.
"Hello." The man that speaks is young. "I'm detective Reed, you remember my partner Bud?"
I nod.
"And of course, my lieutenant, Jefferson. Can I ask you a few questions?"
"Of course."
I smile impatiently at them. The sooner they get done with questioning, the sooner I can see Daniel and ask him myself.
"Is it okay if I call you, Clara?"
"Yeah. Sure. Whatever."
The strangers in the room exchange quick glances.
I feel my cheeks redden. Not a blush. Anger. Why can't they leave us alone? They want to mess up my brothers life. So what if he really did try to kill me? I probably deserve it.
And besides it wasn't him. Probably one of his personalities. John is the guy who's into cringe-worthy sexual acts. Braun is the guy that believes whatever you tell him. He usually makes up things in his head. Untrue incidents. Taylor is the one that believed Papa to be abusive.
He wasn't.
"Can you tell us what happened on the sixteenth of April?"
I frown, shocked by how much time has passed. "You didn't say yesterday?"
Reed gives me a long, exasperated look before he answers. "You were in a coma for two weeks."
I close my eyes, and shake my head.
"I'm sorry to ask but: did you try kill yourself?" He verifies, the curiosity in his voice not entirely masking the slight but genuine concern.
Is this guy fucking crazy? Don't teen girls go for something like sleeping pills or cutting the wrist? What teen would hunt thallium down , a poison that can barely be diagnosed? I'm afraid of death. Who isn't? I never want to die. If there was a mortality pill. I'd take It. Death is uncertainty. Why would I want to leave the life I know for a mysterious place?
"Er... no."
"Are you okay?" Reed asks anxiously. He watches me carefully as he continues, "You sound unsure."
"Oh, I'm quite sure, alright," I assure them.
I'm not sure what my face reveals, but something strange happens. Bud asks: "Should I call your nurse or get you a glass of water?"
I shrug. Limps protest with pain. Ouch. I cringe. "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" he's concerned. "You look rather troubled. We can always reschedule."
"I'm fine." My voice breaks. I clear my throat, the tube in my throat moves uncomfortably. "I'll be fine."
He hesitates. "Okay. So what happened that day? Start from the beginning. Tell us everything you remember."
"It all started as a simple flu. Cold. Sweats. Then I couldn't control my bowel movements. My feet developed this burning sensation. Like I was walking on fire. I couldn't move my tongue, couldn't even swallow my own saliva. Honestly, everything after that is a blur. I was just in too much pain."
Bud's eyes flicker edgily from my face to my hands. "You do know that you were poisoned right?"
A shiver runs up my spine.
"Yes... My Aunt just told me. She said you believe it's my own brother." They look at each other. Obviously they think Daniel is guilty. They probably don't know about his multiple personality disorder. "Daniel, despite what you might think or what you heard, would never hurt anyone. He's a great person. Doesn't even shout when he's angry. He normally binges on movies until he's calmed down. He'd never hurt me."
They spend the next two hours taking my statement, asking me to repeat the same things, over and again. I'm so tired I could sleep for days. I yawn.
"Alright, Ms. Addas." Says Bud. "I think that's all for now. Thanks for your time and cooperation. I hope you get better soon."
"If you remember anything, anything at all, that might help us unearth who tried to...please don't hesitate. Call me." It's officer Reed.
I smile. "I will."
"Let me just get you my number." His large hands dig in his pockets. Searching.
I'm quick to protest. "No need. I still have it from the last conversation we had."
"Alright then. Get some rest kid." They shuffle out the door. I sigh my relief.
A male nurse, comes through the door and smiles at me. "Finally, you're awake."
"Unfortunately."
His is a sad, sympathetic smile. "Let me just check your blood pressure and your sugar levels."
"Okay," I sigh.
When the black sphygmomanometer clings around my arm, I cringe from pain.
"Sorry." His voice is low. "I have to do this."
I close my eyes through the whole process. Pain stabs me again. I groan. Shit. Fuck
"Oh my...!" The panic in his voice...
"What is it?"
"I'm gonna need you to take these..." the nurse fishes in his chest of drawers for two tablets. "Your BP is way above normal. But at least your sugar levels are fine."
Did he prickle my finger already? Hmmm. Weird. Didn't notice.
I shake my head, eyeing the tablets in disgust. I hate taking tablets. They remind me of those two years away. The torment I had to live through. Never again.
"I need to remove this." He tags the clear tube going down my throat. It triggers my gagging reflexes. "Hold very still."
As if I'm not an ice block already.
"You don't have to eat through tubes anymore," he mumbles. "We'll start you with something light, like soup, something that will be easier to swallow and not to heavy for your digestive system."
I nod and gulp down air. My throat hurts.
The nurse deposits the tube in the trash can beside the bed. I'm horrified. Oh hell no. That whole thing wasn't inside me, was it? But of course.
The sensation that something is still knifed down my throat lingers. I run my tongue over my lips. They are dry. Too dry, almost to the point of cracking.
"What?" I ask, troubled by the conflicted look the nurse masks on.
"Nothing."
I make a face at him. Surely, I don't look that stupid to him, do I?
"I'm just surprised he managed to stay away from you for this long."
"Who?"
"Your brother?"
The nurse doesn't notice my unease, probably because he's busy scribbling on my file.
"Oh." Almost as if he's making sure I don''t wake up.
"Yeah," he chuckles, looking straight through me.. "He never leaves your side unless he absolutely has to. I'm surprised he even let you out of his sight long enough for you to get hurt. I mean for someone to hurt you."
I shift, uncomfortable. "He wasn't like this before the... incident. Being over protective? That's a bug Daniel picked up after I got hurt. Where is he anyway?"
The nurse shrugs, changes my I.V bag and escapes the room after scribbling down some more notes. I wonder what they say.
My eyes trail him to the door. Fuck. He's built like a fish. A big fish. Love handles hang low. I stifle a laugh.
"Clara?" Daniel cries.
I can't answer, overwhelmed with emotions. It is so incredibly good to see him again. Locked in the terrifying eyes of Death, I honestly thought I'd never see my family again.
Death's definitely not the grey, foggy, smoke that lingers over people's head with a time count down that most authors describes. Whoever still uses that trope is so not original.
Death is pitch black. Darker than a moonless, starless night. He doesn't hover. He swallows. I was living in a nightmare. Hot coal raining down on me. Knives slicing me. Any day, I'd pick a harmless shadow over the real thing.