Chapter 8: Code

JADE:

‘Huh? What’s that,’ I though nervously as I looked at the white, small card sticking out in front of my right shoe.

My shoes have dried blood on them, and I honestly didn’t want to touch them, but I figured that I have to. I am dying out of curiosity to know what that hell it was that was stuck at the end of my shoe.

Finally giving in to the temptation of finding out what it is, I looked around for a suitable place to sit down. Finding a spot by the flower beds in front of the police station, I sat down and slightly arched my back to pry the thing away.

I reached out to it. It seemed stuck at the end of my shoe, so I had to yank it a bit before it was finally set free.

As I had expected, the gooey stuff that made it stick was the dried blood. Has this card been around the shoe all this time? Did I just imagine the shoe being all clean when I was in the hospital?

I visibly shook my head. That’s impossible! I checked the shoes before going to the police station, and I was sure they were spotless!

The stuck part has dried blood on it. It made me feel really creeped out.

I was about to throw away the card, but before I did, I unconsciously turned the card on the other side, and good thing I did because what I saw dissolved my earlier resolution.

On the opposite side of the card, there seemed to be some cryptic information. It read:

CHS

MR – #22

413

??????98756

The initial digits of the final few numbers were smeared with blood and dirt. I tried to look at it through different angles under the light, but nothing helped. I couldn’t decipher what had previously been written. The figures had already merged with the blood.

Was this a code of some sort? Why was it stuck to the shoes? Where did I get this card? Did it have something to do with Marian – the girl who had just died?...

The probable answer would be no because I was sure the shoes were spotless when I checked them earlier. However, I just couldn’t ignore the unpleasant feeling in my gut, telling me that the girl in my dream has something to do with the information written in this card.

I got some tissues from my purse and stuck the card in it before stuffing it inside my bag.

There was only one thing I could do in this case to satisfy my burning curiosity – I must investigate. I must find out all I could about Marian and about the information in this piece of card.

I went back to my dorm room as soon as I can. I wanted to know more about the girl whom I saw die. I wanted to know why I saw her in my dreams when I fainted.

I started by looking at her social media accounts. I typed her name – Marian Rabelo.

There were such minimal pieces of information about her that my efforts did not bear much. She only kept three pictures in her account, and the pictures looked fairly recent. It showed three selfies, but one such selfie caught my eye.

In one of her pictures, she was smiling brightly, and a caption was written underneath:

Found these treasures!

In her hand, she held a pair of red shoes that looked exactly like the one I had!

I stared at the screen for a really long time. I felt my shoulders turn cold, and the hairs at the back of my neck stood up quickly in fright.

Was it a coincidence, or was it deliberate? The same red shoes that I received earlier – how can a dead girl have that same kind of shoes?

I quickly looked at the shoes that match the pictures – my own shoes, whose previous owner I had no idea of…

“Why,” I whispered quietly towards the shiny, crimson stilettos. “Why did you choose me?”

I looked quietly at the shoes, and the horrid red shoes stared quietly back at me, not blinking, not doing anything at all, but how come I can imagine it breathing?...

Maybe I was going insane! How can this random pair of shoes be at fault?

I laughed as I thought of this. ‘Get a grip, Jade,’ I told myself. I was just stressed up. That’s it – I was stressed out that’s why I am imagining these things.

I remember back in high school too. There was an incident where a classmate has harassed me. He was doing things that especially got into my nerves. They were small things at first, like walking to and from school just a few feet away from me, or showing up to where I was unexpectedly. At first, I tolerated it, but as time passed by, my pent up emotions had built up until I found myself having a nervous breakdown one day.

The incident was serious enough to warrant me some sessions with the school nurse and eventually to a psychiatric doctor.

Was the same thing happening again? Was I being too overly sensitive?

I laughed at my own thoughts. For a second there, I really sounded like I was becoming crazy.

Maybe I should distract myself. I should stop obsessing about Marian Rabiola…

Staying here wouldn’t help. I turned off my laptop and decided to head to the school library. I need some distractions, and books would surely provide me with that.

Despite my anxiety and scattered thoughts, my feet went into auto-mode. After a good ten minutes of walk, I finally reached the university library.

I was about to head inside the library when a building sign caught my eye.

Right across from where I stood, three silver and gleaming letters that make up a college acronym was sprawled before my eyes.

CHS – College of Health and Sciences.

I stopped at my tracks and took another look at the white, blood-smeared card I had picked up this morning.

Is this what I think it is?