The girl who lived in the shadow

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7. Hana

13. 09. 2018.

There was it again. That strange feeling of your body disappearing. Or as you call it, death. I’ve heard about death before, but I’ve never experienced it in any kind of way. The kind of way where you feel pain all over your body.

I didn’t feel any pain. No headache, no broken legs, or arms. Nothing.

I opened my eyes at the sound of whispers around me. Everyone that I cared for and loved was around me. My mother, father, my best friend, and Mona. She was here too. I’m surprised that my mother let her see me. After all, she didn’t like the relationship that I have with her.

“What day is it?” I asked, trying to sit up from the white comfortable hospital bed.

“It’s Thursday the 13th.” My mother placed her palm over my cheeks.

“Why am I in the hospital?” I asked again. “There was no reason to place me here.”

“We found you in the forest unconscious and your body was freezing. We needed to get you here.” My father stood up from his chair, leaning his hands on the end of my bed.

“I’m fine.”

“But you don’t look like you are fine, Hana,” he said. “What happened? Did you see something or?”

I shook my head. “I don’t remember.”

At that moment, someone knocked on the door, and a moment later, a black woman and a white man walked in. They were both dressed in suits. Both of them looked serious and I didn’t like that. It meant that something wasn’t right.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, but we need to ask Hana a couple of questions.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s not the right time,” My father whispered to the two people. The black woman glanced at me then back to my father. “I’m sorry, but she needs to know.”

“Know what?” I looked at my mother. “Who are you?” I asked the black woman.

The woman stepped forward, taking out her badge. “I’m sorry for not properly introducing myself the moment I entered. I’m agent Amari Wattkins and this is my partner, Rayan Birsen.”

I turned my attention to the man next to her. He reminded me of someone that I used to know, but the only that made him different from that person was his black hair. The person I used to know had blond hair.

“Why did the FBI come? It’s not like I got killed or something.” I tried not to panic, but I couldn’t help myself. Something was telling me that something bad happened.

Agent Amari walked to my bed, placing her hand on my bed. She glanced at my parents who looked terrified. Especially my mother. “They took your blood and they found Rohypnol in your system...” she started, but I cut her off.

“I was raped?” I panicked. I wanted to stand up, but I couldn’t move my limbs. It was like they were dead.

“Take it easy.” My mother placed her hand on my shoulder.

Detective Amari smiled a little, placing her hand on my arm. “Don’t worry. You weren’t raped.” I immediately calmed down.

“Then why are you here?” I asked again.

She took a deep breath before finally speaking, “I know that it’s hard to remember a traumatic experience, but do you remember anything that could help us? Did you talk to or saw someone that may slip something into your drink?”

I glanced at my mother who nodded her head in approval. “I don’t even drink alcohol, but I’ve drunk some water.”

“Did someone gave it to you, or?” she asked again.

I glanced at my mother again, and she once again nodded her head. “I got a panic attack so John Larson gave me a cup of water,” I answered.

The detective looked at her partner who nodded his head and took out a small notebook and a pencil. He wrote John’s name before looking back at Amari.

“Why did you get a panic attack?”

“I couldn’t find my friend Romana so I went searching for her.”

She nodded her head. “What happened next?”

I shrugged. “I was walking through the forest when I suddenly saw a shadow behind a tree. It was wearing a mask.”

“A mask?” The other detective joined into the conversation.

I nodded my head. “I’m not crazy. I know what I saw.”

Detective Amari placed her hand on mine. “No one says you are crazy, just tell us what you saw.”

“I didn’t see anything. I only smelled whiskey.”

“What about his clothes? Did you see something specific?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I can’t remember anything that happened.”

“But those scratch marks on your arms say otherwise,” she commented.

I looked down at my hands, seeing red lines going down my hand. “I don’t remember getting those,” I said.

“I think it’s enough for today.” My mother interrupted our conversation. She started to act like an overprotecting mother again. Her eyes were focused on detective Amari who only wanted to do her job.

Detective Amari looked at my mother and nodded her head. “We will send someone to swipe your nails and those marks. Maybe you scratched the person without realizing it.”

I tried to smile a little. “I will do everything to help you, but why are you here? I mean, what happened to me doesn’t need an FBI agent. My father could take care of this thing.”

Both of my parents looked at each other for a moment before my mother took my hand in hers.

“There is something we need to tell you,” my father said.

I looked at them in panic. “What is it?”

“Margareth Larson was found dead two days ago,” my mother answered.

Moving my hand away from hers, I place it on my mouth. That can’t be true.

“Are you sure it is her?” I asked.

“We are afraid that it’s true,” Detective Amari said. “That’s why you need to tell us everything you know. Did someone have a grudge against her?”

My eyes were filled with tears. It was a matter of seconds before I will start to cry. “I didn’t know her that much, but she seemed nice. She looked like one of those people who wouldn’t harm an ant.”

“But do you know someone who knows more about her?”

“John knows. He is her brother.”

The detective nodded her head and smiled a little at me. “Someone else? A classmate, maybe?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but you will have to ask John. He knew her the best.”

The detective stood up and walked to her partner. “If you remember anything, just tell your father to call me, okay?”

I looked at my mother who answered it for me, “She will call you.”

“Can you please call doctor Boseman. I need to talk to her,” I whispered to my mother just before the two detectives walked out of my room.

“You can talk to her when you get home, sweety.” She smiled sweetly at me, but I didn’t want to talk to her at home. I wanted to talk to her now.

I shook my head. “I need her now, mom. I need to talk to her.”

~ - ~

“Your mother called. She told me that you wanted to talk to me,” Doctor Boseman said as she sat down to an already prepared chair for her. She sat next to my legs so I could look at her directly in the eyes.

“Did you take the pills too?” I asked.

She nodded her head, taking out a small clear bag where the pills were in.

“It must be really important if you need the pills,” she commented.

Doctor Boseman took out the pills from the bag and gave them it to me. I took them with my left hand and placed them into my mouth while I waited for her to give me a cup of water.

“Did you just take the pills with your left hand?” she asked.

I drank the water before I answered, “Yes. Why?”

She leaned on her chair and pointed at my right hand with her pen. “You usually take them with your right.”

“I’m exhausted, doctor Boseman. I don’t think I’m even capable to think clearly.”

“But you are enough capable to ask for me,” she commented.

I leaned on the pillows, closing my eyes for a moment. “My head feels like it’s going to explode. There are parts of the night I can’t remember at all. And now I found out that Margareth died.”

“How does that make you feel?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Scared, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

I took a deep breath. “What if that happened because of me? What if she was attacked because she saw me?”

Doctor Boseman stood up from her chair, cupped my cheeks, and said something that made me feel better, “Don’t blame yourself, Hana. You will only feel worse. What happened to her is tragic, but you can’t blame yourself for it. Do you understand?”

I nodded my head. “I understand.”

She smiled a little. “You are such a good girl.”

Yes, I’m a good girl.

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