The Head, Part 2. BRACE YOURSELVES

Note: If you have not read "The Head", you will not understand a thing that happens in this story. Also, this is the second part of a trilogy. I'm working on the third short story. Hang in there :)

My parents let me go home with Jack. They understand that I just need to be with him and try to work things out after our ordeal. However, my mom makes it very clear that when I get home, she wants answers.

When we get to Jack's house, I walk down the hallway to his room. His dresser is pushed back against the wall just a few feet away from the closet. On the left side of the room, his bed is against the wall with easy access to the window. Between Jack's bed and his door, there is a bookshelf with tons of different books on it. I never understood how he could have read all of those books within his lifetime. After we walk in, Jack closes the door.

He sits down and pats a place next to him on the neatly made bed. "I don't know who did this." He says. I nod. I turn to look into his amazing blue eyes. His eyes are swollen from crying, but they are still beautiful. "I love you." He whispers. My breath catches. We have been together for eight months, yet neither of us had ever said those three words. So I barely manage to tell him I love him back before he kisses me.

It's not our first kiss, but there's something different about this one. It's more personal and gentle. He pulls away, and rests his hands on his navy blue comforter. My heart is beating a mile a minute, and I spend the next few seconds trying to slow it down.

He looks at me almost as if he is unsure of what to do next. His eyes are almost begging me to do something. So I do.

I take his face gently into my hands and I look him straight in the eye. "I love you, Jack. I will find whoever is doing this to you, and I will make his life a living hell. Death is too good for someone like that." Then I kiss him. Not as gentle as he kissed me. My kiss is more urgent and wanting. I need him. I love him. Jack is moving his hands to touch my chest when his mom taps on the door.

"Keep it open, boys." She says. Jack smiles and opens the door. I try to hide my blush, but his mom knows. She has this look that makes you think she knows exactly what you're doing or thinking, and she usually does know. That's the best and most annoying thing about her.

Mrs. Capolia, Jack's mom, was making dinner downstairs. I would end up staying for dinner, and then go home a few hours afterward. As much as I wanted to, his mom was insistent that I never spend the night. So Jack and I just cuddle and listen to the sounds of Mrs. Capolia making dinner downstairs.

"It's time for dinner!" She calls up the stairs. So we eat, and Jack walks me home. We stop on my front porch.

"Are you going to be okay for the night?" I ask. He nods and he draws me into a hug. "Jack, I promise I will come over tomorrow, and we can figure out who did this to you."

"Okay. Be safe. I love you." I smile at his words. He softly kisses me and I tell him I love him too. Then I walk inside, walk past my questioning parents, and go up the stairs to my bedroom. I watch Jack's retreating figure. He turns and waves to me. I smile. I walk over to my bed. I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow

...................................................................................................................................................................

"John. John! Wake up. It's an emergency. You have to get up!" I sit up quickly. The memories of the day before flood my mind and my body goes into panic mode.

"What's wrong. Is it Jack? Is he okay?" There are tears in my mother's eyes. She sadly shakes her head. She starts sobbing. I start crying too. What's wrong with Jack?

"Mom! What's wrong with Jack. What's wrong? Tell me. Please, Mom just tell me." I'm hysterical now and she just cries harder.

"John. Jack is dead." I freeze. No. It can't be true. I was over at Jack's house less than 8 hours ago. It's not possible. He kissed me goodnight and told me he loved me. I love him. He can't be dead.

"Mom. No. It's a mistake. I was over there. I ate dinner there. Mom he told me he loves me. He's not dead, it's a mistake." She just cries harder and I do too. My boyfriend can't be dead. I stand up. She just keeps repeating herself. "He's dead, sweetheart. He's gone."

"NO MOM! NO! HE'S NOT DEAD!" I scream at her. But I can tell by the look in her eyes. The only boy I've ever loved is dead. He's gone and he's not coming back. So I scream. I yell. I rip apart the covers on my bed and I throw my laundry basket at the wall. I throw whatever comes into reach. My hands are bloody. I threw something made of glass. I sink to my knees.

"No." I whisper. I look at the photograph of Jack and I on my end table. He has his arm around me. The expression on his face is loving. He loves me. He can't die. He just can't. But I know it's true. So I hug the photograph to my chest. My mom is still sitting on my bed. Her knees are against her chest and she looks enthralled and scared at the same time by my actions.

"How did he die?" I choke out. She tells me he was stabbed to death in his sleep. his parents are dead too. They were hanged.

"I want to see him." I say. I have to see him.

"You can't, John. They probably need to do autopsies. John, the police called. They need to talk to you tomorrow morning. There's nothing we can do now. I just needed to tell you." She sniffles and wipes her nose.

"Please Mom. I don't know where they would keep him. I need to see him. I don't care if they don't even let me see him. I need to try."

"Okay." She agrees. And she takes her keys shakily. My Dad comes with us. He stays quiet. I stare out the window and cry silently. I think of the feel of Jack's lips on mine. I think of the note. 'You're next'. I should have stayed with him. I should have done something. The nagging voice in the back of my head tells me there's nothing I could've done. He's gone.

We get to the hospital. The nurse at the desk is wearing purple scrubs. There are bags under her eyes, and a solemn look on her face. My mom lets me talk. She just stares at her feet, but her hand rests on my shoulder. I'm glad for her touch. I need to know I'm not alone.

"My boyfriend, Jack Capolia, died tonight. I need to-" My voice breaks. "Please. I won't touch him. I just-" Fresh tears come rolling down my face and I can't speak anymore. The nurse nods and gets up from behind the desk.

"We need body confirmation anyway. We're pretty sure it's him but... You can't see them unless it's to confirm the body." I can see the sympathy in his eyes. He doesn't need a confirmation. I can tell he sees my grief. I know he's seen this stuff before, but it's 4 in the morning and he's exhausted. He doesn't need to deal with a grieving family tonight.

The nurse leads me to the morgue. It's freezing. It's sterile and impersonal. Everything is either gray, white or black. The only color in the room is the purple in the nurse's scrubs. I see 3 tables. Each have a figure lying under sheets. The nurse steps out and a man steps in. I am barely aware of him when he tells me he is a forensic scientist. I'm too scared that one of the bodies under the sheets will be Jack.

"Hello, er..." He says. So I tell him my name. "Hello John. This may be difficult for you, but I need to tell me whether you recognize these people." He says, and gently removes the first one. It's Mrs. Capolia. Her neck is bruised and purple. Her eyes have been ripped out of her sockets and filled with jelly beans, just like the head in Jack's locker. The jelly beans in her empty eye sockets are rainbow colored. Only the black ones are missing. I never liked the black jellybeans. Mrs. Capolia's blonde hair is ripped out of her skull. I gasp when I see her cheeks. There is a big gaping hole in each one. The flesh around the holes are tattered. Although her mouth is closed, I can see that her tongue had been cut out. I tell the man who she is. He makes a note on a pad.

My Mom runs out of the room. I know she's going to get sick. My Dad just stands there. He doesn't say anything. He never says anything. He just stares at Mrs. Capolia. I want to scream at him to do something, but I don't have the energy. So the man removes the second sheet, and I move on.

The second figure is Mr. Capolia. The little hair he had is shaved off. He has bruises and gashes along his neck. The vermilion of his blood has traced little paths down his neck and onto his shirt. His nose has been cut off. I can see the nasal cavaties inside his nose. Fluid and blood cover his face. His eyes are ripped out of their sockets, and jelly beans also fill his eyes. Again, they are rainbow colored, without black. I tell the man who he is. He makes another note and I move on.

And then Jack. The sight of him makes me sob. His beautiful blue eyes are gone. They are replaced with the same rainbow jellybeans. There are no bruises on his neck. His soft, blonde hair is ripped out of his skull. I see blood on his clothes. I can see where he was stabbed. Blood is still oozing out of his chest. His ears are also bleeding. Unlike Mr. Capolia, his nose is still intact. I can't bear to look at him for more than a few seconds. I hope that the torture inflicted on him was done after he was dead. I couldn't bear the thought of MY Jack being in so much pain before he died.

The man spoke. "There was a note found resting on his abdomen." He hands me the note.

'Watch your back." I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Can you turn him over?" I ask. I've stopped crying. My tears have turned to anger. The man carefully does as I ask, the back of his shirt is soaked with blood. Even more so than the front.

I ask the man to lift up his shirt, and he does. Although blood is dripping down his back, I can read the word's that were etched in the by a knife.

'Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm going to KILL you'

To Be Continued