Page 30 of Cracked Ice (The F*cked Up Players #1)

LUCIEN

Two months ago

U p here no one bothers me. The best part, it’s noisy. The wind howls as we strike up conversation. It roars in my ears, and I listen. Some nights I roar right back, screaming into the void of my pain and frustration, but not tonight.

Leaning back against the cold ground along the cliff’s edge, I indulge in one of my few private pleasures.

Resting on my elbows, I listen to what the wind has to say tonight, what secrets it will divulge.

I look out over the valley, leering at the school, illuminated and proud, off in the distance as it whispers across my skin and shouts in my face.

It lulls me into a false sense of peace, and even though I know it’s lying, it’s one of my favorite pastimes.

My legs hang weightless as I sit on the peak’s edge like it’s my own personal swing, except this is one I can’t afford to jump off.

I’m pretty high up and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t survive the fall.

Sleep does its best to evade me, but up here my body is relaxed and loose. Maybe sleep would find me easier if I just slept up here instead of back at the dorm.

I collapse my elbows and rest my back along the chilled lush grass.

It’s oddly comfortable, like the cold side of the pillow but better because it never grows hot, not up here.

My lids stutter close to the sound of nature’s lullabies.

The soft quiet and cool nights are an illusion but it’s one I can’t help but come back to, if even for a little while.

The second the darkness wraps me in its hold, sleep beckoning, the illusion shatters and the memory of screeching tires, burnt rubber and rivers of blood assaults my senses, forcing me awake with a jolt.

I jerk too hard though, rocking too far forward over the ledge, and slip.

I catch myself in the nick of time, my hands braced on either side of my legs and clutched around the sharp peak’s edge.

The rough rock cuts into the skin of my palms and the pain yanks me out of my daze.

Blinking a few times, I swipe my hand over my face. It’s wet, and warm, and it takes me a few lingering seconds to recognize I’m bleeding as I attempt to regain my focus. I turn my hand over and watch the dark substance spread along the life lines of my palm.

I should wipe it off or wrap it up.

I do neither, instead draping my hands between my legs, my forearms resting on my thighs, as I look far below where not even the trees can reach me.

Falling would have been bad but I don’t feel relief cheating death again as I stare at the base of the peak littered with jagged rocks.

I feel empty and barren and the need to let go, and give in niggles at my brain.

One little push from the wind and I could fall.

It’s a long way down, the kind of distance that could put an end to my miserable existence.

I take a deep breath, scrubbing one hand through my hair while the other continues to drip blood over the rocks at the bottom.

I could paint the rocks in red if only I’d fall. Satisfy nature with my demise.

I feed the rocks the blood it craves, watching as my hand drips slow steady drops from hundreds of feet above. It flows down my middle finger, pooling until gravity forces it to do what I wouldn’t: fall.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I stay like that for a while. Watching. Waiting. Until my conversation with the breeze is interrupted by a faint buzzing sound. I almost brush it off as another memory, or hallucination, but it sounds again.

This time I feel it, the vibration against my leg.

It’s my phone. My fingers slip, numb from the cold as I make several odd attempts to fish it out of my pocket.

I’m tempted to chuck it over the side of the peak before it finally settles in my grip, the vibrations incessant and unhelpful to the current state of my mind.

It takes a second for my eyes to adjust when I bring it up to my face, but even through bleary vision, the username immediately catches my attention.

What the hell?

@BladeSpinner

Are you going to jump?

I huff an exhausted laugh. I’ve thought about it. So many times.

@therealLucifer

Do you think I should?

@BladeSpinner

If you want to.

I squint, eying the message they sent. Well, that’s different. I don’t know what I expected their response to be but it wasn’t that. I type back, despite the intrusive thoughts.

@therealLucifer

Do YOU want me to jump?

@BladeSpinner is typing…

I wonder if they’re aware that I can see the blinking dots.

I grunt, staring at the screen disrupting the night air.

Is this the part where they send me their manifesto or their plans for world domination?

They’d probably push me off if given the chance.

Too bad they won’t get it. I’ll thrust us both to our deaths before I ever let someone kill me.

@BladeSpinner

No.

Something about the simple response makes me laugh out loud, surely startling the nocturnal creatures I typically spend my time with when I’m out here all alone. Except, I’m not alone. Not tonight it seems.

@therealLucifer

Lol. Did you have to think about it?

@BladeSpinner

I needed to check in with my feelings first.

@therealLucifer

And?

Bloody thumbprints litter my screen, but I merely wipe them away as I wait with baited breath for their response.

@BladeSpinner

What?

@therealLucifer

What did your feelings have to say?

@BladeSpinner

If it made you happy, it would make me happy.

@therealLucifer

That’s a little fucked, don’t you think?

@BladeSpinner

Well, it’s a little fucked you want to jump.

I just figure you like fucked up things. *Shrug emoji*

They’ve got me there. It is fucked up. Then again, I’m a pretty fucked up guy.

@therealLucifer

Touche’

So . . . what else makes you happy?

@BladeSpinner

This

This? What about this makes them happy? Fucking with me? Taunting me? I want to ask but I know they won’t tell me. It’s the way they talk in circles. In riddles. Nothing is ever straightforward or as it seems with them.

@therealLucifer

Who are you?

@BladeSpinner

I don’t know.

LUCIEN

Dr. Amelia Thatcher

Session Transcript

Audio Recording

Date: January 17, 2024

Patient: Lucien D. Morrow

Amelia : It’s been a while.

Lucien : I’ve been busy.

Amelia : I heard. Congratulations on your win this week.

Lucien : I always forget how high up your office is. Everyone looks like ants.

Amelia : Have you been having any more unsafe thoughts?

Lucien : Doc, all of my thoughts are unsafe.

Amelia : Is that why you finally decided to show up?

Lucien : I’m only required to come once a month. I’d say this is progress that I’m here right now. Aren’t you proud of me?

Amelia : It is progress and, yes, I’m proud of you.

I’m always proud of you, Lucien. You’ve come such a long way, and I want to continue to see you improve.

It takes true courage to face your fears as you have.

I know it’s been hard on you, dealing with the grief of losing your family, coupled with the survivor’s guilt, and hero’s guilt over trying to save the person who caused their deaths, only for them to perish too.

It’s a lot for anyone, especially someone at your age.

I’m proud of every step you’ve made to receive the healing . . .

Amelia : How’ve you been sleeping?

Lucien : Like shit.

Amelia : Have you been taking the Olanzapine?

Lucien : No. They make my head feel foggy. I don’t play well with that shit in my system.

Amelia : I can try writing you another prescription for some sleeping pills. Would that help?

Amelia : Are you able to tell me what’s going on with you? You don’t seem in good spirits today. Are you sleeping at all?

Lucien : Some.

Amelia : Has it been like this all week?

Amelia : Has it been like this for longer than a week?

Amelia : Well, we’ve talked about this in the past. When it gets bad like this it’s important that you—

Lucien : I think someone’s been following me.

Amelia : Excuse me?

Lucien : Yeah, I think I’m being followed.

Amelia : Have you contacted the authorities?

Lucien : I said, I think . I’m not exactly sure.

Amelia : Okay, let’s start with why you think someone’s following you.

Lucien : It’s just a feeling I have. I can . . . I can feel their eyes on me, sense their presence, but I never see them.

Amelia : Are you sure this person exists? Are you hearing voices?

Lucien : No, they exist. It’s not in my head. We talk sometimes . . . it’s kinda nice.

Amelia : You talk in person?

Lucien : Online mostly . . . but sometimes they text.

Amelia : Yes, but you said you think they’re following you. Why is that?

Lucien : I thought they might have just been a fan or a puck bunny, but that’s seeming less likely now.

Amelia : How so?

Lucien : We don’t talk about hockey or my games. They don’t call me Morrow or Morningstar.

Amelia : Do you know if it is a male or female?

Lucien : I’m not sure.

Amelia : Do you feel in danger when communicating with them?

Lucien : Sometimes.

Lucien : They asked me if I was going to jump off the cliff at Werther’s Peak. I asked them if I should do it and do you know what they said?

Amelia : What did they say?

Lucien : If I wanted to, I should.

Lucien : Can you believe that? No one’s ever given me permission to do what I wanted before. It surprised me.

Amelia : So, you have been having thoughts of harming yourself again?

Lucien : No. I don’t think I wanted to jump then. I think they just assumed I wanted to because they were watching me.

Amelia : Do you stand at the edge of the cliff often?

Lucien : Don’t take that away from me, Doc.

Amelia : Look, Lucien, you know I’m on your side, but it’s not good practice to tempt your demons like this. What if one day you’re there and you do feel like jumping? What then? You won’t have time to think through your steps if you’re already at the edge.

Lucien : I’m always at the edge.

Amelia : Lucien, wait! Please sit back down.