Sitting back in the waiting room, I made sure to keep my distance from Otto this time. Although I didn't mind being comforted by him (his touch only made me calmer despite my conflicted feelings), I knew that it was wrong, it was bad. Everything that Jason had told me about what he saw in that book made me even more afraid of what Otto could have been hiding. I needed space from him to be able to sit alone with my thoughts. If I sat too close to Otto, if I felt his touch or his hot breath against my neck, I wouldn't be able to resist him. All of the bad thoughts and worries would flood away and I wouldn't be able to deny my love for him. So I needed my space.

I tried to breathe deeply: breathing in for 5 seconds, holding for 5 seconds, and releasing for 5 seconds. It was a trick that Mrs. Tate had taught me, a trick that had actually helped me in many cases where I wasn't sure how to act. Surely now was one of those times. So I breathed. In, hold, out. I repeated it in my head as a sort of affirmation, trying to convince myself that everything was going to be fine, and I soon felt myself drifting off into a more peaceful state of mind.

But the sensation didn't last long, as the door to the waiting room flung open, and a red-hot West came charging through the door. His face was red, his eyebrows were drawn in, and his lips were pressed in a thin line. He was angry, angrier than I'd ever seen him before, and he was looking right at me.

"Where is he?" West asked as he made his way over to where I sat and I stood up to match him. It was rare that I saw West this mad, and I remembered he had always scared me when he got like this: his over 6 foot tall figure hovering over me, and his expression cold. West looked like he could have snapped and killed me on the spot. He had always been terrifying when he was mad, but he'd never actually been this mad at me. It felt different this time, and I could barely speak when I replied.

"Room 106," I said. "He just had some tests done, but I'm not sure"

West interrupted me, "Some tests?" He questioned. "What kind of tests, Harrison?"

And, as if on cue, the doctor walked out into the waiting room and made his way over towards us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Otto look up to the doctor, but he didn't stand up this time, which was probably the best call on his part. If West was so mad at me, I couldn't imagine his feelings towards Otto.

"So, I came to give an update on Jason. We ran some tests on him, starting with an x-ray. With it, we hoped to see if there was any damage to his spine, and, unfortunately, there was. But, of course, more tests were necessary. So we decided to perform a myelography. A myelography is a radiographic test. What happens is we insert a spinal needle into the canal of the spine. We put a contrast fluid on the needle that allows for what we call a real-time x-ray. What this means is that we get to see exactly what is going on with the spinal cord right then and there," The doctor explained. "I took the images personally to our hands-on radiologist, and the results just came back. I'm afraid it isn't good news."

West's jaw tense, and his fist clenched into a tight ball. I was afraid of what he might do.

"Earlier, Jason may have mentioned he was unable to feel his legs. I had an idea as to what may be the problem, but I didn't want my assumptions to be correct," The doctor sighed. "Because of the bullet wound to the spinal cord, Jason is now paraplegic."

"You mean," West started, then took a moment to compose his anger, "he's paralyzed?"

The doctor nodded and when he did, West huffed. "He is paralyzed below the waist. It affects both of his legs, his hips, and other aspects like sexuality and other self-explanatory issues."

West didn't make eye contact with the doctor. "Is he going to be able to walk again?"

The doctor sighed once more. "I'm afraid it won't be easy. But with some physical therapy, those with paraplegia are able to regain some of their normal functioning back. It's just different for everyone. It will be a long process, but I'm positive your friend Jason may be able to walk somewhat in the future."

The room was silent. I couldn't find the words, West swallowed his, and Otto didn't  have the right to have any words. Sometimes silence was peaceful and calming, but right now? The silence was deadly, and I felt like I was being suffocated, like the air was poisoning me with an unknown gas due to Jason's diagnosis and the tense nature of everyone in the room. We were three people in a room too small to be able to hold in all of our separate emotions and that, in and of itself, was lethal.

"When can I see him?" West asked.

"I'm afraid it will be around an hour. He's still recovering from the anesthesia we had to give him in order to perform the tests," The doctor said. He must have realized the tense nature of the room, mostly due to West's furious state of being. "I'll leave you three alone, and I'll let you know when you can see Jason."

I mumbled a pathetic, "Thank you," as the doctor left the room. Everything stayed silent until the door was completely shut and the doctor's footsteps could no longer be heard. It was just the three of us in this room together, and it was about to explode.

West shook his head and looked directly at me, his eyes sparkling from the tears he was holding back. "I can't believe you," He croaked. "This is your fault."

"West..." I tried to speak, but I couldn't find the words, and West seemingly didn't want me to find them anyway. He continued speaking before I could even think about what I would possibly say.

"No, don't even speak right now, Harrison!" He yelled. "You caused this, I can't even stand to look at you right now!"

Otto suddenly arose from his chair. "West, it's not her fault"

"You need to leave this room, Otto, before I punch your teeth out of your goddamn mouth," West lashed out and I was surprised that West didn't make a move to attack Otto right then and there. Otto hesitantly backed off, doing as West commanded and leaving the room.

It was just me and West and I didn't stand a chance.

I looked into his eyes. "West, please"

He held his hand up, signaling me to stop. "Harrison, if you don't let me speak my mind, this won't end well for you, either," he warned. He sucked in a deep breath before making eye contact with me. His emotionless, stone-cold eyes petrified me. "This is your fault. God, you have been so stupid and careless this entire year! You just keep trying with Otto even though you know how dangerous it is to be with him! You keep trying to be with him even though you know he's beyond fucked up! What the hell is wrong with you? You jeopardized my boyfriend's life because yours is too screwed up in the head!"

"Don't pull that card on me, West," I said.

"What card? Oh, the 'your boyfriend is insane' card, Harrison? Give me a break!" He raged. "I don't even know why I bother with you. You act like you care about other people, like you care about me, but the truth is that the only person you actually care about is yourself!"

"That isn't true" I protested, but again, was interrupted.

"It is true, Harrison!" West yelled, the veins in his forehead popping out. "You're careless and you're selfish! It's why Jason got shot by Otto today, right? Because you were so naive to agreee to go with him to the fucking mountains! You ruin everything and everyone around you, Harrison! That's why your brother fucking killed himself, I bet! Because you were too selfish and careless and childlike to save him!"

That was the moment I felt my heart stop. And when the pounding beat returned, it returned with vigor, pumping faster and faster each second. It felt as if my heart was going to rip its way out of my chest and run away from me. My entire body went numb and I felt the same shaken sensation I had felt the day my brother died. I could barely move, as if I were glued in place, and a giant hole was burning through my heart. He mentioned my brother out of pure rage and spite. He didn't mean it. I had to convince myself that he didn't mean it.

I gulped, forcing the tears that dared to fall back into my eyes. West shook his head at me and scoffed. "You're pathetic," he scrutinized. "Otto shot Jason because he is a crazy psychopath, and you can't even see that, can you? He shot Jason! He was going to kill you, and instead, he shot the one person I love!" A tear slipped from his eye, but he violently wiped it away, not once breaking contact with me. "You're protecting him because you are pathetically in love with a man who isn't who he says he is, Harrison. And if you don't turn him in, then you bet I fucking will. God, I can't even be around you right now."

West stormed past me, heading towards the bathroom and slamming the door. Every part of myself felt heavy, and my breathing was erratic as if I were a panting dog after a long walk. I felt my throat closing in on me and I gasped for air, falling to the ground.

In, hold, out. In, hold, out.

•••

I had managed to get my breathing back in check once I found my way outside of the hospital. The crisp 45 degree air was cold, yet comfortable compared to the stuffy hospital waiting room. At least it didn't feel like I was suffocating anymore. West had gone in to see Jason and Otto stayed in the waiting room despite his attempt to follow me outside. He wanted to walk with me and comfort me once again, but I didn't let him. I didn't let him because it was just that simple: I needed to be alone. The amount of times in the past hour that I had walked around the premises of the hospital was countless. But I needed to keep moving to prevent myself from having a panic attack and walking around the hospital was really my only option.

Despite constantly repeating my breathing techniques in my head, trying to block out any overbearing thoughts, West's words still echoed far louder, surpassing the silence: You're pathetic, You're selfish and careless, That's why your brother killed himself, I bet. There was no way I could ignore his words because they plunged into me like a knife straight to my gut. But how could I even deny it? He was right, wasn't he? I ruined everything.

As I made my thousandth lap around the hospital, I spotted Jason's car in the parking lot, and I remembered what he told me. He had Otto's book in the glove compartment, and he had urged me to read it, telling me that it would change everything. Could it really be as bad as he made it seem? And I remembered what West told me, that he would turn Otto in if I didn't, that I was protecting him because I was foolishly in love with a psychopath. Was Otto really a psychopath? Would the book make him look like a psychopath like Jason implied?

Stopping myself, I grabbed Jason's car keys out of my jacket pocket, fiddling with them, unsure of whether I wanted to face the truth or not. I took a deep breath and with that, made my way towards his car, unlocking it and hopping in the driver's seat. My hand was shaking as I reached towards the glove compartment, hesitating to open it: was I doing the right thing?

"Come on, just do it," I mumbled, urging myself to open the damn glove compartment and to stop being a coward.

Pulling my shit together, I opened the glove compartment and made contact with a leather journal titled Prda. What the hell does that mean? Before opening the journal, I decided to open my phone and look it up, throwing the word into Google Translate.

Prda— Latin for 'The Prey'.

I gulped and my heart started to race even faster. I took a moment to focus on my breathing once more before opening the journal. A sketch of a woman's face with a label #1 greeted me on the first page. The sketch was undoubtedly Otto's work from what he'd shown me in his sketchbook. It read: "#1: Susanne. 18 years old. Senior in HS; best friend and first crush. Will conveniently move to Delaware.

Will conveniently move to Delaware? What the hell does that mean?

I moved my hands to turn the page and I wish I'd never opened the damn book. When I flipped the page, I gasped out loud, dropping the journal on the passenger seat, but the journal remained open on the page, the pictures on the paper petrified me. My chest tightened and I could once again feel my airways becoming blocked by my apprehension. My breathing became erratic again, and I was only able to take short gasps for air. It felt like I was suffocating, so I quickly opened the car door and got out, collapsing onto the asphalt of the parking lot and sitting against the side of the car. I ran my hands through my hair as I tried to catch my breath, unable to believe that what I saw was real, I just couldn't. There was no way that what I saw was real, it had to be a figment of my imagination. My eyes had to be playing tricks on me.

In, hold, out, in, hold, out. Come on Harrison, pull it together. I was determined to get rid of the panic attack that was coming on before it reached its peak or else I would be stuck here for the next few hours. Thankfully, with my breathing strategies, I finally found myself breathing nearly normally in a short period of time. Although, it felt as if I'd been sitting on the ground for ages.

Slowly, I pulled myself up, getting back into the car, and getting past my shaky hands, I reached for the journal once more.

"It's not what it looks like, it's not what it looks like," I whispered in an attempt to calm myself down. I turned the page again, greeted by another girl labeled #2. I turned the page. "Fuck," I said, covering my mouth.

With each page I turned, I felt myself getting sicker and sicker. The pictures disturbed me more than anything else and each picture was different. There were girls with gunshot wounds, stab wounds, one girl's head was cracked open with her head tilted awkwardly against a desk, it was the desk in Otto's room. Despite the differences in the pictures, they were all the same in the way that every single girl was covered in blood. Some bloodier than others depending on the injury. But the blood didn't matter. What mattered was that they were clearly all dead. They were all dead and Otto took pictures of them and taped them in a leather journal.

I got to #16 and recognized the name: Jolene. This was who Jason had told me about, Otto's ex-girlfriend, the one before me. The one who had moved to Kentucky, and the one who's apartment had become Otto's secret hideout. I turned the page: GOT AWAY was all it said in big, bold letters. Holy shit.

I felt my heartbeat slowly increase again as I realized what was next: #17. I turned the page and didn't even have it in me to be shocked by what I saw.

Me. I was #17. It all made sense. Every suspicion I had about Otto, every clue regarding the number 17 came flowing back into my brain, and that was when my blood ran cold. I set the journal down and sat back against the car seat. Unable to stop it, tears began streaming down my face and I found myself sobbing pathetically.

Jason was right. I couldn't protect Otto, I couldn't fix him, and I couldn't save him from himself. He had a second personality and he could be exactly what he tried to convince me he was: a monster. I was in love with a monster and I could no longer convince myself that this book wasn't the reality of who Otto was on the inside. This was who he was. This had been who he was all along. A monsterous killer who killed the women he dated, and he had been successful almost every time. Almost every time until Jolene and now me.

"Fuck!" I screamed, slamming my fist onto the steering wheel, letting my head fall down on top of it.

I was in love with a psychopath, a pathological liar, and a cold-hearted murderer. And the worst part was that I knew that Otto was truly none of those things. He was a charming, mysterious, sweet man who had shown me what love was. He had shown me how to fall in love, how to let go and be happy for once, but it had all been a lie, and I realized right then and there:

I had committed the cardinal sin of falling in love with the psychopath that was Otto Landry.

•••