Finding the serial killer

Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Jake’s POV

I fed the address to my car before I even began the drive and I can already see it’s gonna be a long one. I don’t why I have this weird anxiety crawling all over me whenever I'm going someplace, I've never been before. I always feel that I will go somewhere I shouldn’t have, I will find something I shouldn’t have, I will see someone I shouldn’t have and everything will be a big pile of mess. I've been like this as a kid, I hated going to restaurants, to malls, or shopping, or even picnic. Mom just says she was like that too and I will get over it, but this fear silently slipped into my adulthood too. and I never get better. The only difference is that I'm good at hiding it. Just this feeling makes me do a lot more things than what I'm supposed to do. I don’t even know if I will ever get over it before it takes over every part of my life.

I quickly look at the time I'm going to have to take to be where I will meet Stella, and it says thirty minutes if I follow the path that takes me from the isolated area of the city and about fifty minutes if I go through the crowded one. Since I'm still running low on time, thirty minutes seemed more comfortable for me when I trust GPS more than I trust my ability to navigate asking around.

I plugged in some music and that too a bit loud and went on the road.

The road in front of me that the headlights have illuminated are empty as far as I can see. Not empty of everything, just empty of humans and everything that I see in New York every day, cars and busses; but there is something that’s been filling up the space, dried leaves. The road was surrounded by trees and bushes on both sides and as far as my eyes goes, it’s only natural the dead leaves will find their grave around their previous habitat.

I slid down my window to feel more of the fresh air that I never get to enjoy and I'm more than thankful for this time I have all to myself. I have so many thoughts but I can keep them in the back of my head. Mom is just like me, she would’ve loved this kind of a road trip in isolation but safety, I know Jerry and dad would hate it more than anything. Anything that’s not fruitful for them as a businessman and a family man is a waste of time. It’s a wonder that he still managed to marry mom and they never fell out of love in all those years.

That reminded of the gift Jerry gave me last night, dad’s priced possession, his pocket watch. It was made of pure gold, the first handicraft heirloom he loved after the ring and the dress my grandmother gave him to pass down to mom. One of the things I never thought I will have, but now I do. I like things that connects me to certain emotions. This watch the emotions of my grandpa. He had it with him all the time, dad only inherited after he passes away from cancer when I was four or five.

I suddenly had the urge to get it out of the glovebox and look at it again like I've done it in the morning, just to confirm I still have it. I still received it as a present.

I opened the box with an audible click and there shines the priceless watch I never even get to have my hands on before. the beautiful diamond it had around its girth are still as precious and capturing as I imagined. The dial in the middle pointing at the numbers under those diamonds don’t work anymore. It could work but that means having to get this fixed every now and then to someone and that doesn’t sit comfortable with dad. There are more ways to see the time that this watch.

I look at the road and just when I thought I'm alone on the road, something jumped in front of the wheel. My breath hitched, eyes flinched and legs pressed on the break. I don’t know what really happened, I couldn’t see, but I know something in between trying to hold the wheels and save whatever there was on the road, I lost control and the car drifted away from the road, until, until I finally stop. I opened my eyes in fear that I just murdered an innocent animal and try to look at the road that was no longer in front of me. I was inside the swarm of trees on both sides.

I try to start the car, but it’s struggling to restart. I think there is something wrong with it. I try to open the door, but it’s stuck because of all the pressure it has from those bushes and trees reinforcing its closure.

“What should I do?” I ask.

The only answer I get from myself was, “call for help.” I took out my phone from the jacket pocket only to hit with the reality that it’s been dead ever since I talked to Stella.

“What else can be so bad then living an important day of my life in this place?”

I need to look for help, I tell myself. But how? I can't even get out let alone go about asking for some help. I once again tried opening the door, but that was no help. So, I did what my brain that had activated flight or fight mode to do. I slid down the window pane and carry my body to roll out from it.

I took some crunching and rolling and squeezing but I'm finally out of the car. My car, what the hell did I do to you? I feel the cries of the metal model and resorted to get back my posture. I need to look around for any help.