Finding the serial killer

Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Jake's POV

I still have so much to do. I typed my resignation and handed it to captain. He dared not to say a thing. He was too happy to even try to fake his concern. I don’t know if I'm happy, but I'm definitely not sad that I won't be seeing him again. He isn’t either. But still it hurts to know I don’t belong anywhere anymore and no one really cares.

For the last time before I leave here for good, I decided to say my goodbye to Emily. Not for her, I want that closure. I'll have her stuck in my head forever if I don’t see her for a last time.

On my way out, I gazed to her desk. She must be here watching some documents in the computer, or she must be sorting through the pile of dusty files or smiling like a fool whenever she thinks I'm getting scolded. She must be doing one of those but she isn’t here. her desk is clean as she never even came here.

She must be upset with me. she must never want to see me again for how I talked and behaved and how cold I was to her. I should be hating her too more than she would, but I don’t have it enough in me to really hate someone, hate her. how can I hate her when she’s just become a person I admire. When she is the person I want to know all about.

It ends here. I won't care for her anymore.

I shouldn’t be feeling this, but I'm feeling this deep wound that keeps scratching until it bleeds. The scratch is my loneliness and blood are my feelings. How much I try not to show it, but the color is too loud and obvious to go unnoticed.

I drive back home and everything is a mess. The first room I came to, the living room I decorated with everything I've learned from mom, many photos many art pieces is all been destroyed. Is this how I used to do too? all the cushions were on the floor, drawers all opened and emptied. Furniture moved and tossed and tumbled and wasted.

I tip-toed through all the mess. I just need my laptop and my clothes and I'll leave this messy town. I might start working as a waiter, or a mechanic, I can maybe work at Jerry’s restaurant or I can just move to a sea side and start a fishing business. I'll do anything but I'll never be a policeman.

Before I get in to grab my stuff I stop at the bedroom door. “Is there still something left you need?” Emily is here going through all my drawers and has no idea I'm watching her. I think she still need to make sure that I'm innocent. she still needs proof.

She looked at me shocked.

“You won't find anything.” my tone is more sarcastic than hurt, I promised myself to not be hurt. She is still looking at me like I'm the one hurting her with my words when it’s quite the opposite. “Did I say something wrong?” I took a step. “I know you won't trust me. So, keep looking. I just need a few things, let me take it and I'll be out of your hair forever.” I was just trying to hold back any emotions that I can lose control of at this moment. I won't let her see me like that. So, I stood like a cold, hard plank of wood. I had no emotions just anger. And anger can make me look horrible scary.

I walked in the room, took a few shirts, my laptop, my chargers, a few picture frames and threw it in my bag, zipped it close and hang it on my shoulders.

“Jake!” Emily fixed her hand on my back. Even a spark of her touch, her care made me shiver out of this cold hard shell. But this shell I've made isn’t just for show, it’s there to protect me. “Please.” I didn’t want to care, but my body somehow still cared. It’s a b***h. It stopped at the doorsill just because Emily asked to. she is vicious, she is mean, she only cares for herself and knowing all about I still can't make up my mind if I can or can't trust her. I've never been more disappointed with myself, it feels like it’s my body but she can control it better than me. “Are you really leaving?”

“I am really leaving.” I look everywhere but at her. “Never coming back.” My body is scary, it reacts to her more than too me. I took a step to the living room. “This needs to stop.”

“Jake?” I know she was following me as I was moving farther and farther, but I already promised myself not to care anymore. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

I don’t want to remember the best day of my life. if I remember that now, it might be the worst one.