Chapter 7: Called father and police

'She is dead.' I said

'What?' he screamed.

'Keep it quiet. It's a girls' dorm. Male voices should not be heard here.'

'Screw the male voice, dude. What the hell are you talking about?' John said, his volume rising higher, along with his blood pressure.

I grabbed him by the neck and covered his mouth with my hand. He groaned.

'Please, keep quiet,' I said. 'You are freaking me out. Quiet, understood?'

John nodded, my hand still on his mouth. I released my grip.

John coughed as he spoke again, this time in normal volume.

'Are you sure?' John said. 'Maybe she isn't well.'

'She's gone. Her body feels like ice. She isn't breathing. Look at her face,' I said.

He noticed the red marks around her neck.

'How did she die?' he whispered.

'How the hell do I know? This is how I found her.'

'But she just messaged you,' John said, pacing up and down the room.

'Yeah,' I said. I opened my phone again. Yes, this wasn't a dream. I had her messages. She missed me and wanted me to wish her in person. I sat down on Amelia's study chair. I examined her face, as calm as a sleeping baby's. The love of my life had died. But the shock of it all meant I couldn't feel any pain.

'What do we do?' John said.

'No clue,' I said, 'but sit down, please. You pacing is making me nervous.'

'I am so scared,' John said. I felt fear too. But I couldn't have a meltdown like him. Someone had to think.

'I have never seen a dead body before,' John said, as if I hung out with corpses all the time. 'dude, do something.'

'Shut up, John. I am thinking what to do. Do you have any ideas?'

'No, brother. We should have never come here. We were happy at the booze party in our apartment. I said before itself that it is a terrible idea…'

He continued to rant, jamming my thoughts. I wanted to slap him, but couldn't. Yes, he had tried to stop me from coming to her room, so I let him vent for five minutes. After that, more out of exhaustion than anything else,

he sat on the wooden easy chair in the room.

'We have to inform someone,' I said. 'We have no choice.'

'How?' John said. 'What do we say we are doing here? In a girls' hostel room. At this time in the morning. With the occupant dead.'

'So what do we do? Run away?'

'Maybe. It's still dark. Let's leave the same way we came and vanish.'

I considered the idea. We sneak out, go back home, and pretend this never happened. However, something didn't seem right about that option.

'How did she die?' I said.

'What?'

'How did Amelia die? She was alive an hour ago. Healthy.'

'I don't care, dude. Right now, we need to get out. Fast.'

'She wasn't sick.'

'Yeah, so?'

'Someone killed her,' I said.

John sprang up from his seat.

'What?' he said. 'We are at a murder scene? Let's leave, bro. Now.'

He went to the window.

'We can't leave like this, Fatty. Sit down, please. Let's think this through.'

With heavy steps he went back to the easy chair.

'Why stay? So people eventually find us? And assume we did it?' he said.

'If we run away, they will definitely think we did it.'

'How will they even know we came here?' John said, wiping sweat off his face. 'It's still dark outside. Let's go.'

'You don't understand. This is big. A PhD student murdered in an MIT dorm Villa. Not only the University, but the entire police and media will be all over this one.'

'So?' John clasped the armrests of the easy chair tight.

'So they will dig.'

'Anyone could have done it. There are over a thousand students on the campus alone.'

'But the main-gate guard might remember us. And, of course, the cops at the checkpost might remember my bike too. And that we went into the campus.'

'So what? We came for a ride at night.'

'And they will search for fingerprints in the room. Mine are on the window. On the bed. Even on her face.'

'Fingerprints?' echoed John, his face white.

'Your prints are on the easy chair now,' I said. He immediately released his grip on the armrests.

'Bro, what is going on? Some Crime series shit?' he said and stood up.

'Can't we wipe everything and leave? I really want to leave.'

'We can't, Fatty.'

'Our lives will be ruined.'

'No, Fatty. If we wipe fingerprints and flee, then we are ruined.'

'So what do we do?'

'We stay and say the truth.'

'That we drank a bottle of whisky, chose to ride drunk, dodged a cop, showed an invalid ID to the institute guard and climbed up into the girls' dorm late at night. Are you insane, brother?'

'Those are bad things, yes. But that doesn't make us murderers.'

'Murderers?' John squeaked. 'How can you even say that word? We haven't done anything.'

'I know. That's why we need to stay. Now, who do we call first?' I took out my phone.

'Are you sure, brother? You are not exactly having the best ideas today.'

'If you want to leave, John, you can,' I said. He didn't have to be a part of this mess.

'I didn't say that, bro.'

'I mean it. Whatever happens, there is going to be some trouble. You don't have to be here.'

'Didn't we decide at our booze party that whatever we do, we do together?' he said. I looked at him. In some ways, having a best friend is way more important than having a lover.

'I love you, man,' I said.

'Me too, bhai. Who are you calling?'

'Her parents, her boyfriend or the police. These are the choices.'

'Should we just walk down? We can find the watchman and tell him everything. Let him make the calls.'

I let out a huge breath. He did make sense.

'Not a bad idea. But,' I paused.

'But what?'

'But if we don't call these people ourselves, they will find out we were here and never stop suspecting us. Let's call them first and then go to the watchman.'

'I have never called the police in my life,' John said.

'Same here. I'll call the police last.'

'Parents?'

'That will be hard too. Let me call that Grey first.'

'You have his number?'

'Yeah,' I said.

He had called me a few times before, to tell me to stay away from Amelia. I had saved his contact, to have some way of reaching Amelia in case she blocked me. I checked the time. It was 3:36. I dialed his number. The phone rang. Nobody picked up. Eventually, I heard a service message, perhaps telling me that the person could not be reached. I tried again. No response.

'Seems to be sleeping,' I said.

'Call her dad,' John said.

I dialed Saf Scott's number. What would I say to him, I wondered.

Hi, uncle, sorry to bother you. It's me, James. Remember you said to stay away from your daughter? Well, I am in her room. Oh, and by the way, she is dead.

'Yes?' Saf said, his voice sleepy and angry at the same time.

'Uncle, it's me. James.'

'I know. Have you seen the time?'

'3:38, uncle.'

'What do you want?' he said.

'Uncle, Amelia…'

'What?'

'Mr. Scott, Amelia…'

'You need to forget about Amelia. I thought I made this clear years ago. Are you drunk again?'

I was drunk, sort of. Most of my high had vanished though.

'Uncle, please listen to me, it's important,' I said, trying to collect my thoughts.

'What?'

I couldn't break the news.

'Can you please come to Amelia's dorm? Now.'

'What? Why?'

'Please. It's important. Come right now. I am here.'

'Wha…'

I cut the call. I don't know why, but speaking to her father made everything more real. Amelia had died. Gone. No, I couldn't go to pieces. Not right now. I had more calls to make.

'Police,' I said out loud, 'what's their number?'

'911?' John said.

'That's the general number. Should we call the local police station?'

'You mean the same guys who just chased us?' John said.

'Shut up,' I said. 'Okay lets dial 911,' I dialed number on my

phone and called them.

Someone picked up after five rings.

'What the emergency, police,' a tired voice said on the other side.

'We are calling to report a crime,' I said.

John looked at me with a worried expression.

'Where are you calling from?'

'MIT CAMPUS, Maseen dorm villa Room 225,' I said.

'Nature of crime?' the voice said in a monotonous tone.

'Murder. Of a student.'

I heard something drop at the other end.

'Who is speaking?' the voice said, now alert.

'This is James Williams. I will be waiting here for you. At the entrance of Maseen dorm. MIT campus..'

'Who's the victim and what's your relationship?'

'Amelia Scott. I am her friend and an ex-student.'

'Please stay there. We are sending a team,' the voice said briskly.

I ended the call. John and I looked at each other.

'Let's wait downstairs?' John said. He just wanted to be out of the room, and away from the dead body.

'Yeah,' I said. I stood up and opened the door to the dark and empty corridor outside. John walked out of the room. I remained inside.

'What? Let's go,' John said.

'Wait. Just one minute,' I said, turning back. I walked up to her bed. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. A teardrop fell on her cold face.

'Happy birthday, Amelia. I love you.'

Amelia remained still.

'Brother,' John said and knocked on the door, 'let's go.'

'Coming,' I said. I straightened up, looked at her one more time, and then left the room.