His mother was standing beside him.
"Mom?" Thomas looked at her in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"You were screaming in your sleep," she said. "I thought something had happened."
"I was screaming?"
"You were all sweaty," his mother said suddenly.
And indeed, his entire T-shirt was soaked with sweat.
"Again," Thomas replied, getting up. "I have to find him. Until I find him and kill him, I won't be able to sleep peacefully."
"Maybe we should see a doctor?"
Thomas suddenly widened his eyes at his mother. He thought he had misheard. Outside, it was sunny; it was obviously already morning.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
His mother remained silent.
"So you think I'm crazy?" Thomas said, raising his voice slightly.
"I didn't say that, Thomas. It's just that you keep talking about murder, as if you're paranoid."
"Can't you understand me?" Thomas sensed his mother's concern.
"I understand that you're upset about that girl's death."
"She has a name!" Thomas suddenly shouted.
His mother, still in her nightgown, stepped back from Thomas. Only then did he notice how much bigger and stronger he was compared to her.
"Did she mean nothing to you?"
"I loved her like a daughter" his mother replied.
"I loved her too, Mom," Thomas said, but before his mother could open her mouth, he added, "because we were friends. I liked protecting her."
Thomas went to the shower. He looked at himself in the mirror and didn't like what he saw. The dark circles under his eyes were probably from his lack of sleep, even though not much time had passed since Carol's death—just one day. But it already felt like an eternity. He felt utterly exhausted.
After showering, he got dressed and headed to school, though he thought it was a foolish decision. Since he had an exam, he had no choice but to show up.
He thought about John. He didn't want to look at him at all. In fact, when Thomas entered the school, all he said was, "Hi," and John didn't say anything back. Clearly, John was upset, but Thomas didn't care at all. Maybe he'd regret it later, but right now, he couldn't tell John anything. Or maybe he could, but he just didn't want to. He already regretted telling his mother. She was only getting in his way now. Or maybe John, on the contrary, could help him find the killer.
Thomas ignored everyone around him as he sat at his desk. John was sitting next to him, but Thomas didn't even look at him.
The moment John had gone to Willie, he seemed distant to Thomas, but now he didn't seem that way anymore. Despite this, Thomas stayed silent, unaware that it would lead to bad consequences.
John glanced at him a few times and suddenly confessed:
"I didn't prepare anything."
Thomas didn't reply, so John silently stared ahead.
"Today, instead of the math exam, there will be a history exam," said a man with curly hair and twisted mustache.
Thomas turned around. Not far from him sat Ethan, and Julia was sitting a bit farther away. He caught Molly looking at him. Thomas turned away and tried not to think about anything except the exam, even though he was completely unprepared for it.
When he was handed the tasks, he started writing something, realizing that he remembered almost nothing. Still, he managed to write something and turned in his work almost first. Right after him, John stood up and handed in his work too. Ethan gave him a smug glance, but Thomas paid no attention and quickly slipped outside. Suddenly, he heard:
"Thomas, wait!"
He didn't expect John to follow him.
"What do you want?"
"Maybe you'll explain."
"I already said I don't want to talk about it..."
"It's not about that."
The air outside was fresh. The sun suddenly blinded Thomas. He looked at John, whose eyes were full of sadness.
"Why are you avoiding me? Aren't I your friend, Thomas?"
"I guess so" Thomas nodded mechanically.
"You guess we're friends?"
"I have to go."
"You're running away again, not telling me anything. I purposely handed in that cursed paper just to talk to you alone, but you keep acting like an idiot."
"I didn't ask you to do that, John. And stop following me around."
"Following you?" John repeated, unable to believe his ears.
"These are my problems, and I need to deal with them myself, understand?" Thomas turned away.
"Carol is gone, Thomas. I know she's gone. And yet, you're going to keep torturing yourself, aren't you? I'm just worried about you," he added.
"Thank you, John. You've truly been a good friend to me."
"What do you mean, 'have been'? What are you saying?" John couldn't hold back.
"Sorry, I have to go," Thomas said, stepping forward, but John grabbed his elbow.
"And after everything we've been through, you're ready to cut ties with me just like that? You want me out of your life, and you out of mine?"
For a moment, Thomas was silent. Then he looked John in the eyes and said:
"Exactly."
He pulled his arm away and walked off. Thomas hated himself for it, but he felt he had no choice. He didn't want to drag John into this. He was just as worried about him. What if that maniac harmed John somehow? But staying away didn't mean the maniac wouldn't hurt whoever he wanted. "No, no, not that", Thomas thought.
But neither his nor John's name had been in the diary. Did the diary even matter?
Thomas assumed John would stop talking to him after this, and it seemed obvious. He sighed sadly and looked ahead. Yet he didn't feel guilty toward John. He believed he'd done the right thing.
John had always been there for him, ever since childhood. But nothing lasts forever, Thomas thought, unlocking the door. His mom wasn't home. Thomas went to his room and took the diary out of the drawer. He immediately opened it to the page with Carol. She wasn't crossed out. Her fake smile...
Thomas flipped through the diary and saw a photo of a familiar man. It was Taylor—the man who had helped him and Carol when the maniac attacked them.
"Could it really be? Could he be planning to kill him too? Or had he already...? "
Thomas pushed such thoughts aside, grabbed his pocket knife, ordered a taxi, and set out to find Taylor.
When he arrived at the place John had shown him long ago, it seemed like a lot had changed, but overall, it remained the same. Thomas remembered where Taylor lived, though he didn't understand how, as it had been a long time.
He knocked on the door of the dark house. A black-haired man with glasses opened it.
"Thomas," he said, looking at the boy in surprise.
"Can I come in?"
"Yes, of course."
Thomas stepped over the threshold and sat in a nearby chair. He was about to start speaking, but Taylor beat him to it.
"I heard that Carol disappeared, but they still haven't been able to find her." The man looked very worried.
"She's dead," Thomas said suddenly, lowering his gaze. "Or rather, she was murdered."
"What? Who?"
"That maniac who attacked us back then."
Taylor was shocked. For a moment, he just sat there, saying nothing. Then tears began to roll down his face.
"That's horrible," he said. "It's... I can't even..."
"Yes, I know," Thomas replied.
Taylor wiped his tears.
"This killer must be brought to justice, whoever he is."
"They can't find him. I've taken it upon myself to investigate, but so far, I have no results. Maybe you know something? An acquaintance of mine, Willie, mentioned some maniac who supposedly lives around here."
"Yes, yes, I remember. The one who attacked you—that must be the maniac who killed Carol, I suppose. But I don't actually know anything about him, so I don't think I can help you."
"Carol was very precious to me, so I can't just leave it as it is".
"Yes, I understand you".
Taylor stood up and brought some water.
"What about the police?"
"They won't help", Thomas replied firmly.
"I still can't believe she died".
"Neither can I".
"How did it happen?"
"A maniac slashed her".
"Oh God", Taylor seemed like he was about to break down.
"But that's not all. I found his diary, and I believe he's hunting you too", Thomas said without emotion.
"Hunting me? " Taylor couldn't believe his ears. - "But what does he want from me?"
"The same thing he wanted from Carol. I think he's just a maniac who gets pleasure from killing. That diary doesn't only mention you and Carol but also other people he's either already killed or plans to".
"Do you think he can kill me?"
Thomas thought for a moment before replying:
"I don't know, but in any case, he'll try. So I advise you to run away immediately".
"And what will you do?"
"I'll fight him", Thomas said without any fear or satisfaction in his voice.
"What are you planning to do?"
"I think he wants to kill me too. I believe it's only a matter of time."
"What makes you think that, Thomas? Maybe it's all just your imagination."
"Are you saying I'm lying?"
Taylor nervously paced the room, then said:
"No, sorry. I think you're right."
Thomas showed him the diary, and Taylor became even more convinced of his words.
"But where would I run? I have no one."
"To another city or country," Thomas suggested.
Taylor looked at him.
"But I don't want to run. I won't hide. If someone attacks me, I'll fight back."
"No! He'll try to kill you!"
"No, Thomas," Taylor suddenly replied. "I'm not going anywhere. Wait... Carol, where is she buried?"
"At the cemetery near my house."
"I need to go there. You'll show me her grave."
"You need to leave, or else…"
"Or else what, Thomas? I'm not leaving."
Thomas stood up.
"Let's go. You'll take me to Carol's grave."
"But…"
"No buts. Do what I say."
Thomas had no choice but to show Taylor Carol's grave. To do so, they got into Taylor's car, and he drove following Thomas's directions.
"Alright, Thomas," Taylor said when the car stopped. "Thank you for helping me."
Thomas showed him Carol's grave, and Taylor knelt down and began whispering something. Thomas didn't want to disturb him, but what bothered him most was that Taylor wouldn't listen and refused to leave. Thomas was genuinely worried for him.
After some time, Taylor left, and Thomas returned home.
"Thomas, where have you been?" his mother suddenly asked.
"I had some things to take care of."
"You don't mean…"
"Calm down, Mom. I didn't kill anyone," Thomas replied and went into his room.
His mother sat down on a chair and then called him to eat.
"Is everything alright?" she asked.
"Yes, Mom. And stop looking at me as if I've done something terrible."
Thomas sat at the table and started eating potatoes with meat.
"Alright, I'm sorry. I saw your father today," his mother suddenly said.
"Really?"
"Yes, and he wasn't alone."
"Oh, really?" Thomas smirked slyly. "Was he with that whore?"
"Calm down, Thomas."
"I hate him. Despite his help, I can't forgive him for what he did to you."
His mother placed her hand on Thomas's wrist.
"That's all in the past, son. I've long since forgotten about him. Besides, he didn't run away from me. He did the right thing because I no longer appealed to him. He loved someone else."
She sighed heavily.
"You're still wonderful, Mom. Don't pay attention to him."
His mother smiled. She looked quite beautiful, Thomas thought to himself, still cursing his father in his heart.
"That was delicious," Thomas said as he washed his plate. "I'm heading to bed, I'm exhausted."
"Thank you, son. By the way, how did your exam go?
"It went pretty well," Thomas replied.
"I'm glad to hear that. And how's John? I haven't seen him in a while."
For a moment, Thomas was silent, regretting that he hadn't gone straight to his room.
"I don't know."
"Do you two still talk?" his mother suddenly asked.
Thomas looked at her.
"No," he replied firmly.
"Did something happen? Is it because he…"
"Mom, I asked you not to," Thomas interrupted.
His mother said no more, and Thomas went to his room. He locked the door and started thinking about Taylor.
"He doesn't believe me. He thinks I'm lying. But that maniac—if he attacks him—oh God."
He lay on his bed and turned onto his back. His heart felt heavy as he worried about Taylor. But if he's in that diary, it means the maniac will kill him. And yet… Mom, Molly, and Olivia Parker's husband weren't in the diary. Who said these murders are even connected? They didn't die from the maniac's actions.
Maybe there's more than one diary… maybe there are many.
Thomas sighed. Eventually, he fell asleep.