Act 3, Scene 3

My eyes had only been closed for a few excruciating seconds but after a light tap on my cheeks, I was awake again. Khaleel was crouched beside me, eyes wide with worry. 

"Fucking hell, Charlie!" He exclaimed when our eyes met. "I thought you'd dropped dead." 

"Yeah you'd bloody love that, wouldn't you, Khaleel?" I scoffed and propped myself onto my elbows. My mind was scattered and I was seeing double through my unconcentrated gaze. He placed a hand onto my shoulder gently but I pushed through my exhaustion and knocked it away. "It's just my narcolepsy, idiot." 

Then, without his aid, I dragged myself to lean against the vanity desk. My head lolled to the side and I struggled to keep my eyes open but refused to let my guard down in front of Khaleel anymore. 

My head was going around and around in circles with a deep confusion that made my whole body ache. One second I was sure that Mr Donaue was behind it all but from the guilt that washed over Khaleel's face, I knew he had written the threat. I didn't understand any of it. I should have listed to Julien, though. That was one thing I was sure of. 

"Wait, you think I killed them, don't you?" Hurt dripped from his words but I refused to feel sorry for him. How could I when it was possible that he'd done imaginable things? 

"No, don't worry about it. I'm sure many young people have the habit of writing anonymous death threats. Right?" I slurred sarcastically. 

"Charlie, I was with you when Jackie was stabbed!"

"How the hell do I know what you did whilst I slept in the library?!" I protested. "Were you really getting me tea or perhaps you were sharpening your knives?" 

I almost felt a slither of remorse tinge at my chest when the look in his eyes turned pleading. He was hunched down in front of me but at this point, I could barely open my eyes. His hands were intertwined together as he begged for my trust. That was something I couldn't give, though. Not when I'd seen his betrayal with my very own eyes. My father had always taught me to trust my visions before anyone else. 

In the corner of my eye, I saw a figure who slunk back into the darknesses and towered over Khaleel and me. By the time I'd opened my mouth to say something, it was too late. The shadow knocked my friend over the head with something that looked like a bat and I once again passed out along with him.

X X X

I had a crick in my neck when I woke up. My backside was numb, my body aflame and overall, still severely confused. I heaved out a sigh and felt the pain as it radiated from my wrists behind me. 

"Charlie?" A familiar voice called out. Khaleel. 

That's when it all came back to me and I realised the situation I had found myself in. Stuck on an old wooden chair by my hands that bound me to Khaleel who sat behind, his back to mine. 

"What the hell?" My voice was surprisingly shaky and I think it scared Khaleel because he began to pull on the rope between us so that it burned against my skin. I felt sick from nervousness and the vodka that tore through my stomach.

"Sit still," I growled. 

"I don't know where we are," he confessed. "But I've been awake for probably more than ten minutes." 

I lifted my eyes to the dark room we had found ourselves in. It was lined with racks of costumes along the perimeter, a rush of faint yellow light from the door that had been left ajar. Shoes were scattered across the floor with mirrors and makeup along the side. My head throbbed. 

"We're in the basement of the theatre," I whispered, not wanting to alert the person who had hit Khaleel, but it was impossible to ignore my clipped words and dark tone.

"You have to believe me, Charlie! I didn't kill anyone, I never laid a hand on either Elijah or Jackie. Hell, I didn't even know who they were. You have to believe me. Please, believe me!" Khaleel sounded desperate and I hated it. "Look into my past if you don't want to believe me. I'll let you see everything." 

I shook my head. "I'm too tired to see anything else, I'm not as good as I once was." 

"It was Hugo D'Angelo who told me to write that on the mirror. I didn't know what the words meant, I didn't know whose mirror it was, I didn't even know who Elijah was. All I knew was that a teacher had asked me to do something and I was new and on thin ice with my dad, I couldn't just say no. I didn't tell you about it because I didn't think it meant anything to the case. I thought it was just something that you people did." 

His words were unusually desperate as if he were begging. I was sure that if we weren't tied up, he might have been on his knees for my forgiveness. I didn't have trust issues, I never put my trust in that many people to feel that sting of betrayal. But, when I heard that my own cousin had called my father knowing the consequences, that hurt like a bitch. I didn't want to feel that again. 

"I..." I trailed off, not knowing how to respond. 

"I promise I'm not crazy, Charlie. Please, believe me. Please, please." 

His hands moved again but this time it felt almost comforting. He moved his skin carefully against my own and the ropes were flimsy around our wrists now. If I twisted my arm around enough, I could pull it away. 

"I never wanted to come to Burton Abbey," he confessed as his voice wavered. "I didn't want to walk around this posh new school and pretend like I wouldn't rather be anywhere else. I didn't want to have to make new friends or study for this life that my father wanted me to have. Then, I met you. I'd left my room to explore the school and saw you sneaking around on that night and suddenly it all made sense in my head. I knew I was here for a reason and I'm glad I followed you. You have this way of making people see things differently and you helped me see this school differently."

He paused to catch his breath and the whole room was quiet. I couldn't hear footsteps, or people upstairs or even our breaths. I only felt my heart that beat wildly in my chest, shattering against my ribcage at every second. 

"I'm telling you this because I'd never purposefully betray your trust. I didn't think it mattered but now I know where I went wrong and for that, I'm sorry. But, I'm completely honest when I say that I did not kill Elijah or Jackie. I know that kids in school think I'm weird, I know Vincent told you that I set the whole thing up in order to write my story, I know that Julien told you to stay away from me, too. I wish I wouldn't let these guys walk all over me, but I did. And I know you suffered because of that. But, listen Charlie when I tell you that me and you are in this for the long run, I bloody well mean it. I'm not tied to this chair for shits and giggles. We'll get out of this, you just have to trust me...please?" 

An incessant buzzing crawled in my ears and clawed at the skin. I stared ahead blankly, just studying the way the costumes stood completely still. The frills from the dresses and smooth silk discarded and now forgotten like we were. 

Then, slowly, I turned my head over my shoulder to see Khaleel. I caught a glimpse of his soft curls, a slither of his smooth brown skin, a glimmer of his eyes as they met mine. I sighed. 

"I'm sorry that I freaked," I whispered. He softened. 

"It's okay." 

I meant it about earlier too, when we kissed. I almost wanted to take it back, those words, the shove and the cruelly cold look in my eyes. I wanted to stop myself before that tiring feeling of doubt flooded, and instead kiss Khaleel as though the world were on fire.

"I need to confess to you something that I couldn't tell even Julien," I murmured. Khaleel's breath hitched. "I'm scared, Khaleel. So fucking scared." 

"That's your secret?" He chuckled softly. 

I turned my gaze down to my new shoes that normally clicked over the surfaces I walked over as though I were a dancer. Just hearing the clip-clop normally made me feel superior. Now, they were useless. 

"I'm just...not very good at talking. I don't want anyone to think that this is affecting me because its- well, it's embarrassing. That night that Elijah died, I didn't cry. I should've but I didn't let myself. Then, when I found that photograph of us through the window, I almost broke down. I've been paranoid ever since. Just the thought that someone was watching made me feel sick that I threw up as soon as I got back to my dorm room. Then the stuff with the mannequin with my face and the notes and- oh my god, I'm so scared." 

I didn't realise I was crying until I felt my chest bounce up and down with heavy heaving like a creature was trying to tunnel its way through my ribcage. I was sobbing at this point and I didn't think Khaleel knew what to do with me. 

My cheeks burned with embarrassment but I couldn't stop the tears. 

I cried for Elijah - I'd lost one of my best friends that night and never got to thank him for all that he did for me. I thought we'd been given forever and for that, I was stupid. 

I cried for Jackie - the golden girl whose innocence was taken by a perverted older man. The girl who deserved nothing but happiness and at least a future. 

I cried for my sanity which was being ripped apart by this stupid mysterious killer obsessed with Shakespear and Greek mythology. 

And finally, I cried for Henri Monet. My older brother, my tragic older brother who took his own life as though it meant nothing at all.

Khaleel didn't interrupt, he only traced circles with his thumb onto the skin of my hands that entwined so closely to his. 

When my sobbing slowed down, I hiccuped with shame. "In Greek mythology, there was a woman called Niobe who birthed fourteen children, seven boys and seven girls. In her fit of arrogance, Niobe boasted to Leto, the goddess of motherhood, that she was better than the titan for she had fourteen children while Leto had only two. 

"When Leto's children, the twins, Apollo and Artemis, heard of this disrespect, they came at once to Earth to punish Niobe. Apollo, the god of the sun and archery, killed all seven boys with his arrows, right in front of their mother. Artemis, the goddess of the hunt and chastity, killed her seven daughters where their dead bodies lay unburied for nine days after.

"With all her children dead and her husband had just committed suicide from the grief, Niobe ran to Mount Sipylus. She begged the gods to put an end to her pain and Zeus took pity in her, turning Niobe into a rock so that her grief would turn to stone. However, even as a rock, she continued to cry. She shed so many tears that it rushed into a stream below. Today, the rock still remains on Mount Sipylus in Turkey, it is said that it still looks like a woman. It is a reminder of her eternal mourning and a warning against acting with arrogance against the gods for you will be punished." 

I finally stopped talking and my voice was hoarse, I could barely breathe without sniffling. I was thankful that Khaleel had stayed quiet to listen. 

"When my brother died, I wished to become stone. I wished for my feelings to dissipate. I wished to feel nothing at all. And then, I turned numb. So numb, so emotionally exhausted, so done with everything. Sometimes, only sometimes, I wish to join my brother wherever he is." 

"It's...it's okay to be sad, Charlie," he whispered and his voice had taken on an edge of pain. "You don't have to be strong all the time, nobody does. You can cry and be angry and be happy. You can feel things. You don't have to be alone again. I told you - we're in this for the long haul now."  

Then, the door creaked open, allowing the slither of light to pour through onto Khaleel and me. 

I froze.