Chapter 9
"No!"
"Tim! Wake up! Please!"
"I can't watch it again, not again." It was 4:30 in the morning. Tim had only been asleep for half an hour this time. Once Sarah dragged him out of the nightmare, he curled into a ball, sobbing. "I can't stop it. I can't stop it, Sarah. It just keeps happening, over and over and over."
"Tim, it's over. It was over so long ago. You've got to let it go."
Tim only sobbed harder. This wasn't like him, but he couldn't control it. "I don't know how. I wish I could. I can't keep seeing him die. I can't keep seeing him hang there."
"Tell me, Tim."
"No."
"Please, Tim. It hurts me more to see you like this than it could possibly for you to tell me what you see."
Tim shook his head.
"Tell me something. Not everything, just something."
At first, she didn't think he would. He kept so many things inside, but then he whispered, "His eyes are always open."
"What?"
"His eyes. They're always open and staring at me. Every time. His body– it's facing away from me, but it turns like in the wind. His eyes are always open. He's dead, but he's looking right at me." Tim broke down sobbing again. Then, he stumbled out of the bed and into the bathroom again. He'd already thrown up everything hours earlier, but it didn't stop his gagging. Sarah huddled on the bed, drawing her knees to her chest as she listened to Tim in the bathroom. This was so frightening. No one should have to feel this way, let alone see it happening. She had meant to wait until he came back, but it was so long and she was so tired herself that she fell asleep. When she woke up with the alarm, Tim still wasn't in bed and she got worried.
"Tim? Where are you?" She walked into the bathroom and found him cleaning the toilet. "Tim, what are you doing?"
"Cleaning," he said listlessly.
"How long have you been cleaning?"
"What time is it?"
"7:00."
"About an hour and a half. I couldn't sleep."
She crouched down by him. He looked awful. "Tim, please stay home. Don't go to work."
"I have to go. I can't stay."
Sarah grabbed him and hugged him to her. "Tim, I'm afraid that you're killing yourself."
With a strength he didn't feel, Tim pulled back and stared her in the face. "I wouldn't do that. Not to you and Mom. Sarah, I'm not trying to be macho or anything. I can't explain it, but I have to finish this. Please, try to understand."
"I can't understand it, Tim. All I see is that my brother is sick and making himself worse and worse."
"There's more to it than that. I'm trying to solve this case. I need to, Sarah."
"Okay, but if you don't solve it today, you're not going to work tomorrow, even if I have to chain myself to your door."
Tim smiled. "We'll see about that." He stood slowly.
Sara watched him as he went to work and then pulled out her phone and started to cry. "Mom, he's getting worse. I don't know what to do."