What Lies Beneath

Four

The vision may have been long gone by now, but I could still feel my airways constricting ever so slightly. Drowning was far from what it felt like. I was fighting for air against a force that wasn't water. Whatever it was, had a strength of its own.

Memories of the crime scene were picking at my mind again. I couldn't tell if where she was found was where she died. I'd heard gasping in my ear. But I also heard something being dumped into the lake. I had no doubts that it was a body. None of this felt like an in the heat of the moment kind of thing either. The figure was dressed like they had planned this.

"Who are you?" I whispered under my breath, slowly scrolling through pages of names in the missing persons database. Since Christian returned me home, I'd been locked in my room searching through all kinds of recent missing persons files on Google.

I didn't recognize her. My connection to her was strong though. I didn't understand it but I guess that was the price I was forced to pay, living through someone who wasn't alive. Even if I never asked for this. Each victim, I grew a special attachment to. I remembered it being scary at first, but after a while, I got used to the victims I met.

I had learned a long-time ago, the more aggressive the death, the more aggressive the vision; which meant, the stronger the connection to the victim. It only hit me after I thought back on the experience I'd gone through earlier.

My heart was still set on the theory that she was dead before she entered the water. During my vision there was no initial reference that I was drowning. I'd felt what it was like to drown when I was eight-years-old. Water would have clogged my throat and burned the inside of my eyes.

"Still nothing. . ." I sighed.

Maybe this was hopeless.

No one seemed to know who the mysterious Jane Doe was on this side of town. I'd overheard Christian speaking with Logan about it when he dropped me off. If no one knew her on the South end of Lake Bellinor, someone might have known her on the North end. She wasn't reported missing though. That was something else I couldn't help but ask myself.

Why would someone come to this side of town to kill themselves in the same lake that runs through their side? I didn't even know why the hell I was still brainstorming about Logan's suicide comment when I knew that wasn't the case anyways. Someone was there. I saw them.

"Hey, Tyler? Can you help me with my homework?" Junior stuck his head in my room.

"Yeah, give me a few minutes. I'll be right there." I waved him off.

He nodded but stood there, scrunching his face at me. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, Junior." I closed my laptop and pushed the notebook I'd been writing in to the side. He perched himself up on his toes, attempting to look at the notes I jotted down. I covered the open page with my hands.

"Hey! Beat it!" I scowled.

"I just want to take a peek! Please?" He pouted. "I won't tell anyone. I promise!"

I wouldn't fall for that this time. If he even caught a glimpse of what I was doing, he'd sing like a canary to my mother, and she'd get suspicious. There was no way in hell I was going to risk that. I didn't need to give her any more reasons to worry about me. She had enough already.

Part of me was convinced she thought I was a bat-shit crazy, anti-social teenager. I wouldn't have been surprised if she thought I was going to become a psychopath or something. She wouldn't be the first. My dad already thought that. Christian was probably right behind them.

"Come on, homework time. Let's go," I said.

"Ugh, fine." He sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes. Nonetheless, he complied. We walked downstairs to our little, round, antique brown kitchen table where Junior always did his homework.

"Where's ma?" Once we sat at the table, his eyes moved around in search of our mom.

Now that he pointed it out, I didn't see her either.

She was probably still locked in her room then. What she did there for hours was beyond me, but I was sure it had something to do with the custody battle. Go to the hair salon, return, argue with my dad on the phone, then sleep—that was her trend. It was better than hearing her cry. I just wish she'd remember to eat. If I didn't remind her, she wouldn't take care of herself.

"She's probably upstairs." I shrugged.

"Oh, okay," he mumbled. An unreadable expression passed over his face. What was it, sadness, anger, annoyance? With Junior, it was hard to tell sometimes. That's how expressive he was. His face was practically a rainbow of emotions.

"What's going on in that tiny brain?" I poked the side of Junior's head.

He slapped my hand and scoffed. "My brain is not tiny! And nothing. I just wish ma was down here with us. I haven't seen her since I got back from school. . ."

My chest tightened. I often wondered if Junior felt neglected. Our mom wasn't how she used to be. We hadn't seen her smile in years. The last true smile we'd ever gotten from her, was my first year of high school, and Junior's first year of elementary school. She'd been so proud of us. That was another thing I kind of missed—seeing her be proud of me. Not scared for me.

"Hey"—I nudged his arm—"why don't we draw her something when we're done?"

"Oh! That's a great idea! You draw way better than I do," he chirped, grinning.

I laughed. "Come on, let's see what kind of homework we're working with here."

Junior plopped his folder down in front of me. "It's math. You're good at that, right?" I was in fact terrible at math, but he was only in the fourth grade. How hard could it be?

"Sure bud, let's see what you've got."

And so, the night began. I helped him with his homework. He lectured me on the dos and don'ts in math, and the events of today never once slipped my mind. Not that they ever do, but I couldn't get the image of that girl out of my head.