Might as well be dead
Dead.
I couldn’t process it as they repeated the word over and over. It was as if my brain had completely shut off. I just squeezed his sweater tighter, staring blankly ahead into the empty room.
It all started with an unexpected encounter on campus two years ago. That was the day I met Jake.
I was walking back from class when I accidentally bumped into him, sending his things flying across the pavement. While helping him pick them up, I noticed a One OK Rock sticker on one of his textbooks. Without thinking, I blurted out, "Are you a fan?" Turns out, he really was. And just like that, our friendship began.
We started meeting up constantly, grabbing drinks, talking about our favorite things, and going to gigs together. We had almost identical tastes in both music and literature. For both of us, it was strictly platonic. My boyfriend, Julian, however didn't see it that way. We got into a massive argument every single time Jake’s name came up. I brushed it off as mere possessiveness, so I never paid much attention to it.
But then, everything shattered...
Back at the station, the police officer handed me a cup of coffee from the vending machine. It was bitter and tasted like absolute crap, but I forced myself to drink it anyway, desperate to calm my shaking hands.
After a long silence, he finally spoke.
"Have you calmed down a bit?"
"Yeah... I think so..."
"Okay. Could you walk me through exactly what happened tonight?"
"I—I mean, Jake and I were planning to watch a movie at my place today," I stammered. "He came over around 4:00 p.m., and we decided to rewatch Kenshin the Wanderer. Halfway through, Jake started acting strange. When I asked him what was wrong, he confessed that he was in love with me and begged me to leave Julian. I was too stunned to speak, and I think he took my silence as encouragement because he leaned in and started kissing me. That’s when Julian walked through the door."
I took a shaky breath before continuing. "He lost it. He kept shouting that he had warned me about Jake all along. They started shoving each other and I tried to separate them by placing myself between them. Then Julian suddenly went quiet and walked into the kitchen. He came back a second later with a knife. He shoved me aside and just lunged at Jake, stabbing him over and over... I panicked. I grabbed the vase off the table and smashed it over Julian's head. But he wouldn't stop, even though he was bleeding, so I kept hitting him until he finally blacked out..."
Throughout my entire confession, the officer just sat there, nodding slowly with a completely unreadable poker face.
"Right," he said quietly. "So you're telling me you smashed a vase five times against your boyfriend's skull to protect your friend, Jake?"
"Yes."
"Could you state your friend's full name for the record one more time, Ms. Parker?"
"It's Jake O'Brien."
"I see..." The officer sighed heavily. "I don't really know how to say this to you, Ms. Parker, but you seem incredibly confused. Did you ingest anything today? Any drugs? Alcohol?"
"I don't smoke and I don't drink," I snapped, defensive. "I never have. Why are you even asking me that?"
He looked at me then, his eyes a jarring mix of bewilderment and sympathy.
"Ms. Parker, this isn't the first time you and I have met. I was with you at this exact precinct six months ago. I was the officer who escorted you down to the morgue to identify a body."
"What? What are you talking about? I’ve never seen you before tonight. And what body? Who was I supposed to be identifying?"
"Ms. Parker, look at me. I was there with you. We were identifying the remains of Mr. O'Brien. He couldn't possibly have been at your house today because he died six months ago in a fatal car accident."
"What are you saying?!" I screamed, gripping the edge of the desk. "Jake was literally with me three hours ago! How could he be dead for six months when we spent the entire afternoon together?! Are you saying Julian killed him ? Did Jake die of his injuries ?!"
"Ms. Parker... he was already gone. You were the one who organized his funeral because he had no relatives left besides you."
"No, no, no! That's impossible! It's a lie! He was with me all semester—"
"Ms. Parker, this is his official autopsy report." He slid a cold, laminated folder across the table toward me. "He is dead. Now, tell me what really happened in that house tonight. Why did you kill your boyfriend?"
