Fear Me, Dear

After what felt like hours of interrogation, despite me reiterating that I didn't remember much at all, they had finally left. Thankfully Dr Whitehall shooed them away, insisting that I needed rest and my painkillers. Thank god for Dr Whitehall, who I later discovered was called Jack.

After what I think was a week, they discharged me from the hospital and I was sent on my merry way with a parting gift of crutches. With a limp, a couple of holes in my torso, and a new engraving on my chest (although I have no idea what it looks like thanks to the giant plaster-like bandage) I went home and was at long last reunited with my bed. Distance only made my heart grow fonder.

Another week has passed, and I have been excused from college for the whole time. Unfortunately, I have to go back tomorrow. It's been fun playing Fifa for hours on end and eating all of the food in the cupboards. Thankfully though, I am off the crutches now so at least I can walk properly now. Now I am sat on the sofa in the living room with Hannah and Max. Matt is in his room asleep despite it being three in the afternoon, and Dan and Chris went out ten minutes ago. Hannah is sat in the middle of the floor facing the sofa that Max and I are sat on playing Fifa.

"Do you think it was them?" Hannah asks suddenly. Max pauses the game and sets his controller down. I rest my controller on my lap.

"Think what was who?" I ask in confusion.

"Do you think it was the murderer who got you?"

"Hannah!" Max exclaims, looking at Hannah in disbelief.

"That's a good question, actually. I guess it never really crossed my mind..." I say absent mindlessly, crossing my arms and tapping my bottom lip as I think.

"Well, it could be possible." Max mumbles as he sits back on the sofa.

"I think it's highly possible. You have the slashes on your arms, the carving on your chest, and you found in the same alleyway as Suzie. However there are some weird things about it all. The way you were lying when we found you, it was as if you were sleeping, not like you were being put to rest. Plus your face was left alone. If it was in fact the murderer, I don't think he planned to kill you."

"You're very observant." I chuckle.

"Am I? Oh, well thanks." She replies. "Despite the differences, I do think it was the murderer."

"Why are you so sure?" Max questions, raising a single eyebrow.

"Just a hunch." Hannah says, shrugging her shoulders.

"There is the chance it wasn't them though, and it could have just been some random attack." I argue, and Hannah looks at with a look that says 'oh really?'

"This murderer is the only one in the area according to the news, so I highly doubt that it was just some random attack."

"Ah, but it is still a possibility." I state, yawning as I stretch my arms above my head.

"What does the carving on your chest say?"

"Hannah, do we really need to talk about all of this? Josh is fine, and to be honest that's my main concern right now, not debating over whether he was attacked by the murderer or not." Max throws his arms in the air in an exasperated manner, clearly getting slightly irritated with Hannah.

"Max, it's fine." I tell him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He lets out a frustrated sigh as he leans back on the sofa, crossing his arms. "And to answer your question Hannah, I have no fucking clue what the thing on my chest says. When I change the dressing I only glance at it, but to be honest I don't think it really says anything. Now, let's end the questioning there for today."

"May I add that I thought it said something, but it was just a jumble of letters so Josh is probably right."

Turning around, I see that Matt has finally joined the land of the living and has kind of joined the conversation. I am actually surprised he is up, usually he doesn't wake up until about four or five in the evening on the weekends. Wearing only pyjama bottoms, he strolls into the kitchen as he stretches his arms above his head. I hear a bang and within seconds he is walking into the living room again with a box of cereal.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty." Max greets Matt, leaning his head back on the sofa to look at him.

"Morning, darling." Matt replies with a yawn, grabbing a large handful of cereal from the box and gracefully shoving it into his mouth. The manners are strong with this one.

"Nutritious." Max comments as he nods towards the box of cookie crisp in Matt's hand. Matt looks at the box, then back up to Max. Reaching his hand back into the box, he grabs another handful.

"Here, have some." He says, and proceeds to throw the cereal at Max's face. In a moment of great skill, Max managed to catch a single piece of cookie crisp in his mouth.

"Thanks, babe." Max says as he grins at Matt, who smiles sleepily back. How he is still not fully awake yet, I don't know.

"Sometimes I question where the relationship between you two stands." Shaking my head, I chuckle as I see the looks on Max and Matt's faces. They keep looking from each other to me. Holy crap, how I wished I could be bothered to take a photo.

"No idea what you're on about, Franceschi." Matt mutters as he leaves the living room, probably heading back to his room. Max looks...disappointed? I don't know, and currently I don't care seeing as Fifa is on.

"Of course he doesn't. Now, as much as all of this social interaction is fun, I would prefer to play a shit ton of Fifa before I am forced to go back to college tomorrow."

"Oh come on, college isn't that bad." Max reasons with me as he picks up his xbox controller again, all negative vibes gone as he goes about selecting his team for the next game.

"It is though. Now it is going to be so much worse." I whined.

"How so?"

"People are going to be asking me non-stop about my little incident."

"Trust me, they won't. I think they will be more concerned as to why the instagram whore hasn't uploaded a new photo for a while."

The obnoxious tweeting sound of my text tone that I have been too lazy to change rings throughout the whole room, and I let out a quiet nervous laugh.
...
With slightly shaking hands, I take it and look at the glowing screen. I've gotten a text from Dan.
...
'Hey instagram whore, where are you? We're getting worried'

"Josh?"

Blinking, I realise that I have been staring at the wall. Scratching the back of the neck, I turn to face Max and hum in a sort of half arsed reply.

"You alright? You kind of spaced out for a moment."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think I just had a flashback or something, I don't know." I mumble in reply, suddenly intrigued by my hands. Hands are weird but interesting things. Want to hold something? Hands. Want to high five someone? Hands. Want to punch someone in the face? Hands.

Amazing.

"A flashback of what?" Hannah questions, leaning forward in curiosity.

"It's stupid, it was just of Dan texting me. He must have called me instagram whore a while back. Now come on, let's play some Fifa. You're only stalling because you know I'm going to kick your arse." I say, pressing play.

"Dream on, diva." Max smirks.

----------

College was worse.

Max was fucking wrong. Honestly, I don't know why I ever listen to him. For the whole day so far, people have been constantly interrogating me about the incident.

Holy shit dude, are you alright? What happened? Was it the murderer? What do you mean you don't remember? What does the engraving on your chest say? Do you know what the killer looks like?

And so on, and so forth. The most popular one is how are you coping? And honestly, my inability to remember anything makes it a lot easier for me to carry on as before. Sure, I'm more alert when I'm out, but that's about it. I must have been asked about the whole thing well over a hundred times, and lunch break has literally just started. Grabbing my back pack, I walk out of the classroom with Dan and Chris as we head off to meet Matt and Max. The two of them insist that we go to KFC, so I guess that's the plan. As we walk, I can't help but feel as if something is...off. I don't know, I'm probably just being paranoid. I can't shake the feeling that someone is watching me though.

Looking down the corridor, I notice someone looking at me from down the hallway before returning to searching through their back pack, tongue poking out of the side of their mouth as they attempt to find whatever they are looking for. They must have been looking past me or something, maybe for their friend.

What's weird though, is that I don't remember ever seeing this person before.