Chapter 25 – Facing Reality

William

Standing in the garden from the Pearson, I gritted my teeth as my thoughts went back to the interview we had with Carl Kelson, the shooter at Harmoni's school.

When we went to interrogate him, he had immediately asked for a lawyer. As we waited for his legal advisor, he seemed excited and pleased with what had transpired. Watching him, I wanted nothing more than to feed him to the dogs and watch him bleed.

At one point, he couldn't contain himself anymore and simply laughed in my face, saying it was only the beginning and that the fun was not going to stop until they found him.

We wanted to know more about what or who they were looking for and what they had planned, but he already knew he would be locked up for a lifetime and didn't bother saying anything useful.

We did our best to look for his partner, but he seemed to have vanished into thin air.

All I knew is that we needed to somehow find out who was connected to this. I had to make sure Harmoni was safe from whatever else they were planning. Never had I been more relieved over the gender of someone. As a girl, Harmoni wasn't a direct target.

Everyone was now reaching out to their CI to see if anyone had heard any chatter regarding this gang coming into town. So far, we had come back empty-handed. Additionally, any and all communication Carl might have with the outside world during his trial and once he was in jail was monitored closely. Hopefully, we would be able to get some information.

James had left on a business trip. He had been absent for an extended period of time, leaving problems and work to pile up on his desk. After assuring him we would have someone always guarding her, he reluctantly boarded his plane.

While Selena, on the other hand, had done her best to cheer her up, she had cooked her favorite meals, offered to teach her new recipes, but the dark cloud lingered and loomed above her head wherever she went.

***

Harmoni

It's been two weeks since the shooting. I had been cleared by the doctors to return to school on Monday. Everyone at school was still shaken, the difference was easily discernible. The corridors weren't as lively as they used to be; instead, the heavy atmosphere was nearly palpable.

Any locker being closed forcefully would result in a few students jumping. I had witnessed more than one breakdown within the confines of the school bathroom.

Emily was still struggling with the situation. Her parents flew back for a week to be with her. They also paid for therapy sessions, which she was voluntarily going to twice a week. She had the barrel of a gun placed against her forehead; it was bound to leave a few psychological scars.

I tried my best to be there for her, but it wasn't easy when I felt like I was drowning in guilt and regrets.

We met up a few times this week, and Jessie did his best to cheer us up and make us laugh. For the most part, he had succeeded, but the scars never fully disappear.

I had asked Jessie about what had happened. He told us that he went to the front of the school to make his call since the connection was unstable inside. When he heard the bell, he ran away from the school; he had been terrified.

I couldn't blame him for not coming back inside to try and help. After all, we were only kids; it was natural to be afraid and not deliberately run into a situation that could get them killed.

As for me, I remember my first day back. William had walked me all the way to the front doors. My nerves peaked; I recalled taking a deep breath and giving Will a weak smile before pushing the doors open and walking into the corridors.

To this day, my palms still felt moist at the idea of going to school. We would all need time to accept what had happened to us and move on.

Well, at least for the ones that could. A wake had been given at the house of the two victims. I hadn't known them personally, but as a sign of respect and support, most of our school had reported present.

The funerals had gone by as well. After hearing all the different testimonies, I wish I had known them better while I still had the chance. They seemed like great people.

It was scary how one day you could be here, laughing and making plans with your friends, and the next day you could be gone. Wiped from the earth without a single warning.

These thoughts helped me put some perspective on my actions during the shooting. I could have died. Running into the line of fire had been reckless. I could have left my father alone, not to mention Em and Will.

Warmth bubbled up in my chest at the thought of Will. He had become such an important part of my life without me even noticing. I couldn't think of my day going by without at least seeing him once. It just felt unnatural. That second kiss we had shared in the hospital had been full of relief, pain, and stress.

I couldn't even begin to imagine how it must have felt for the people that cared about me to see me lying in a hospital bed, unresponsive, but the guilt was eating me up.

That kiss had been all the confirmation I needed to know that this was not a mistake. That he felt the attraction between us as much as I did.

After I asked Will about the guy they had arrested, he told me that he would be going to jail for a really long time and that I had nothing to worry about. I wanted to know more, but he regretfully told me he couldn't give me details about an open investigation.

Leaving school today, I headed back home. Will wasn't working today. He had requested the day since this case had made it busier at HQ. Samuel, David's temporary replacement, was the one driving me home.

To everyone's dismay, David had still not woken up. They had officially diagnosed that he was now in a coma. I visited him multiple times since I left the hospital, hoping he would do the same soon.

The first time I went there, I begged him to wake up. I thanked him for doing his best to protect everyone in the school and told him just how grateful everyone was. Sobs had racked through me, at the guilt I felt. David had been guarding me for almost a year now, and although I wouldn't label us as best friends, he was still someone I had grown to appreciate. Someone important. I wished he would wake up soon.

Stepping into my room, I felt drained, each passing day felt longer than the other. I knew the signs of depression, after all, I had experienced it before. I decided to change into more comfortable clothes. As I started changing, I stopped mid-way, looking at myself in the mirror. My face fell at my reflection.

By now, most of my bruises weren't visible anymore; the only place that still hurt was near my ribs. He had done quite a number on me, I'll give him that. The bruises had shifted from red to blue then purple and were now slowly turning to a shade of dirty yellow.

Although it was proof of how hard I had fought, I couldn't help but be repulsed by it. My eyes dropped to the floor, unable to look at myself any longer. It was also physical evidence that I had been too weak and unprepared to block his attacks. I needed to get better. I needed to train harder.

With that thought in mind, I headed downstairs to the newly finished gym. The gym had many mirrors, multiple machines, as well as a sparring area. It was perfect. Dad had even mentioned something about building a shooting range in the garden. I had to admit that I was curious about learning how to shoot. I definitely wouldn't mind adding that to my skill set. It could always come in handy.

I decided to only wear a sports bra and my matching light blue leggings. This way, I could fuel my anger and training as my bruises and scars would be easily visible.

I sat down on one of the benches, took the time to wrap my hands, and concentrated. There was no room for mistakes. Not in real life. Not here.

Taking a defensive stance in front of the punching bag, I bounced a few times on my feet before starting my attack. I alternated between punches and kicks, both high and low. I would pretend to dodge hits and bend down or jump up. I punched harder, kicked harder than ever before.

I was engrossed in the act, I could have been doing this for minutes or hours, I couldn't say. My breathing was ragged, and sweat pouring out of my body, drenching my clothes, but I didn't stop.

That day, in the classroom, under the teacher's desk, I had given up. I was ready to die, that thought alone was enough to boost me for another round. I needed to push myself. I needed to show myself that even when you think you've reached your limit, you can still push harder. I had to be as strong mentally as I was becoming physically.

"I'm sure that bag has had enough for today?" I heard a voice ask from behind me, catching me by surprise.

I growled in frustration at myself for not having noticed his presence, I punched the bag harder than before. Had he been an intruder, I would have already been dead.

I needed to be more aware of my surroundings. This couldn't happen.

Although, I was annoyed at myself for not realizing he was here, I was glad to see him again. He was the ray of sunshine that managed to pierce through the ominous cloud above my head.