Sybil high kicked the punching bag and then threw a punch at it.
Her only way to relieve her frustrations now that she couldn't cry. Not that she physically couldn't, the young woman merely felt that she couldn't because the Task Force would see her. The only one she felt comfortable crying in front of was L. No one else.
"Sybil? I'm leaving now." Taylor's voice echoed into the room and the redhead stopped what she was doing to look over her shoulder.
His light blue eyes locked with hers and she nodded.
"Of course. You should've left hours ago, anyway. However, I would suggest that you wear a hood during your flight. There's something more going on and Kira may know my name. If that's so, he or she will definitely know that you are related to me once they see you. Cover your face until you land back in Canada." Taylor blinked and then nodded.
"Got it, Sybil. Cover my face."
"And call me when you land. My cellphone will be on at all times." Taylor entered the room just as his little sister lowered herself to her knees.
She panted heavily and he hurried to her side before kneeling down and pulling her into a hug. He immediately noticed that she was quivering.
"Sybil, what's wrong?"
"I'm just a little overwhelmed. Go on, Tay-Tay. Leave while you can. Please. I'll be fine." The older brother was hesitant, but released her and stood up.
"I'll call you when I land in Canada. Goodbye."
"Yeah. You know what to tell Troy."
"You really should call him at some point."
"I will. When I feel that the time is right." Taylor then sighed, knowing that was the best that he was going to get out of his younger sister.
He gave her a small smile before waving slightly and leaving the room.
Sybil heard the front door of her home click shut and then lock. Then, she slowly forced herself to her feet and stumbled from the exercise room to her bathroom.
She needed to get cleaned up and go to bed. Not that she'd get much sleep. She'd probably have nightmares about Ukita's death for months, if not years. After all, the nightmares had occurred after her mother's death.
Sybil stepped into her bedroom's bathroom and closed the door behind her. Then, she slid her clothes from her body before turning on the taps. She stepped into the bathtub, just as the shower started.
An little over an hour later, she stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. She wrapped it tightly around her body and exhaled.
Why didn't she see this coming? She could've at least told him to put on a hood, but now he was dead. She was partially to blame.
Sybil slipped on her nightdress before exiting her bedroom to head to the medicine cabinet.
There had to be something in there that would put her to sleep for a full eight hours, without actually killing her.
She stopped in front of the cabinet and stared at her reflection in the mirror.
"I hate who I've become. There's almost no point in my existence anymore. I'm being little to no help with the case anymore. Perhaps I should retire and save myself the risk of dying young?" Silence filled the room as the young woman took a deep breath and opened up the cabinet to scan its contents.
"Damn it. Nothing. Now I'll never be able to sleep. Unless-" Her mind then drifted back to her father.
When he was drunk out of his mind, he forgot things. Important things. Not only that, but he seemed to sleep easier, even while on the floor.
Thinking about it, perhaps this hurt that she was feeling was the exact reason that he had continued drinking. He seemed to feel better until the next morning.
Taking it with a child's mentality, Sybil made her decision. She quickly changed from her nightdress into a casual outfit before grabbing her jacket and heading out to the nearby bar with her hood covering her face.
She had promised herself to never turn to alcohol and it seemed as though she would be breaking that promise. The promise of never turning into that man.
Sybil stopped herself just as she got to the bar. She was concealed by the shadows of the building as she quickly thought about the consequences of her actions. Something she always had despised doing because everything had a consequence and acting on impulse was so much easier.
Sybil kept herself hidden in the shadows of the building, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for her wishes. There was none.
There was no good reason why she was there by that bar. The only pros she could think of were that she might feel better afterwards. Might. Cons were all liver related illnesses as well as hurting someone or possibly getting arrested for drunken conduct.
No. Despite all the pain she was feeling, she would not go to a bar and she would not turn to alcohol. If anything, she should've gone to L. He would've found some way to cheer her. He always did, even if he didn't know it.
Sybil spun on her heels and turned back to walk to her apartment.
Yes. He always cheered her up. Whether it was taking her mind off of the subject or not, he did it. No one else could do it as well as he could. Not even her own family.
Perhaps it was because they had similar minds? It would make sense, but, then again, whatever made sense in the world meant nothing. There was no point in anything making sense because it was probably just a lie.
Was L just a lie?
Sybil exhaled quietly.
No. He was not just a lie. He was her best friend. One of her only friends. He meant a lot to her.
The girl stopped in her tracks upon feeling her face heat up and her heart begin racing.
Why was it that she would always get so worked up whenever she thought about him? Was it possible that she was actually beginning to grow attached to him in more than just one way? Well, that would make-
No. Nothing made sense. Yeah, she could've possibly been growing attached to him, but in no other way than friendship. She knew what would happen if she ended up wanting more than that, she'd get destroyed and stomped on. A habit that men like to take.
She'd end up with a broken heart, or worse, dead like her mother.
She had pulled away from people and lived on her own to keep this from happening. Sybil absolutely refused to die the way her mother did. She absolutely refused to risk being killed by someone who was supposed to protect her and love her. In a way, being in love was a huge fear of hers. And, it was a fear that was started by the very man who had helped sculpt and create her personality. He had helped create who she was.
Sybil scowled.
That blasted man had made her this horrible person that was afraid to love another. No one should have to live like that. No one. Not even if they had done something horrible. No one should have to live in fear of giving their heart away to another who might very well deserve it.
Sybil stopped walking and lowered her head so that her green eyes were locked on to her sprawled out shoelaces.
She even had to agree that her father didn't deserve to live the way she was forced to live. Despite the fact that he was the one who had caused this fear.
The young woman then felt tears beginning to sting her eyes and she shook her head.
No. She would not cry. She would not cry. Not when she was alone.
Sybil bit her lip and continued on her way.
She missed L already. He'd let her cry on his shoulder, despite how awkward it must have felt for him. He would let her cry and he'd try to make her feel better the best he could.
That was one of the reasons why she allowed him to see her cry. He would comfort her in ways that her own family could not. She didn't know why, but there was something rather calming about him that gave him this gift.
L was unique in that prospect. It was one of the many things that Sybil liked him for.
The female detective suddenly heard footsteps behind her and she shoved her hands deep into her pants' pockets, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. This went on for half an hour.
Someone was following her. It was obvious.
Sybil closed her eyes briefly to inhale, stopping as she did so.
How nerve racking. Never in her life had she been stalked. Then again, she had never been out this long after dark either.
Suddenly, she felt a strong arm wrap its way around her waist while a hand covered her mouth. Her eyes widened as she was then dragged into the dark shadows of the night, struggling to get away. However, she was too exhausted and soon surrendered.
That was when her captor removed his hand from her mouth, but still kept a tight grip on her waist.
"Let me go." She demanded calmly.
There was no reply and she began to struggle again, soon managing to escape and spin around. She was completely ready to knock some perverted idiot out with one punch, what she saw instead, caused her arms to immediately fall to her sides.
"Dad."