BBDW 79 [Black Butterfly] - Nevereverland

Section 94 (UNEDITED) 

The foot stepping on the car’s accelerator was a little more forceful than usual. The impulse to step on it with all his strength and the reason as a police officer clashed violently. The brown-haired detective turned the steering wheel with a confused face.

Getting out of the car and entering the apartment building, Tim went up to the third floor and stood at the door.

"Jude! Jude, Jude! Answer me if you're inside, Jude!"

There was no sound coming from inside. He literally felt like he was going crazy. Tim paced nervously on the floor and knocked on the door a few more times. The more the door shook as if it was about to break, the more his fist tingled.

-Tim, I'll get you a new partner soon, so please do your best until then.

When he went to work as usual this morning, Tim, who heard what the Chief said, had no choice but to stand puzzled for a while. After a long time, when he asked what kind of joke he’s playing, the Chief's face was rather dazed.

-Didn't you hear it? Jude, he said he'd quit.

When he asked him what he meant by that, the Chief then said, followed by a completely dumbfounded face.

-He came to my house out of the blue and told me that, but I said to him that he's going to have to go through some paperwork, but that's also possible in writing. What did he say; something like he's going to India for a trip to find himself. I don't know what happened on his vacation, but he said that nonsense anyway. I was going to ignore him, but he was a little different from usual. At first, it seemed like a joke that he was looking for himself, but afterwards, he said seriously that he was really going to quit. I thought something really happened, so I said yes. Before I could ask for more details, he smiled and said thank you and left. So of course I…… I thought he'd tell you in advance.

He couldn't even remember how he answered after that. He threw away his work and ran out to the apartment like a bee, but now the door in front of him was frustrating Tim with the silent answers. The cell phone that he’d called several times is also unresponsive. Tim, once again, with a face stained with frustration and confusion, opened his mouth to raise his voice. The moment he raised his hand to knock on the door again, he heard a curt voice at the end of the hall.

"Ah, it's noisy. There's no one there, so stop calling him."

It was the janitor at the entrance of the apartment. Tim quickly turned his head and asked.

"The man who lived here, where did he go? Do you happen to know?"

"I don't know. A detective lived there, right? But I know he’s out of the house. He just took a bag that didn't seem to have many things with him and left. I heard him speak to the landlord."

"Like that..."

All strength was drained from his body. He could feel his legs weakened from this incomprehensible situation. The janitor, who was looking at Tim with a dejected face, raised his head and said.

"Oh, are you maybe..... Tim or Tom?"

"Yes? Yes, I'm Timothy Maxwell. My friends call me Tim, but how do you know that...?"

"He gave me something to give you when you came. He said maybe you'll be the first to come. Hold on a second, it should be in the janitor's office."

Tim rushed after him. The old janitor fumbled through the drawer and soon pulled out a thick envelope and handed it out to Tim. Tim took the envelope almost like snatching it. On the envelope face, only Tim’s name was written with a ballpoint pen. Tearing out the seal flap of the envelope, the contents were not just one or two sheets. The letter papers, with several pages being folded, were filled with his partner’s torrent of handwriting. Tim, who was looking through several letters in bewilderment, soon greeted the janitor half-heartedly and left the apartment.

 

Sitting in the car, Tim opened the letter with a slightly trembling hand. At the beginning of the letter, the word "Dear Tim" was briefly written. The first stroke of the first letter was slightly stained with a ballpoint pen's congealed ink.

 

[Uncharacteristically, I've been thinking about it for a long time. Should I tell Tim the rough situation or should I just go quietly? If I tell you the truth, Tim will definitely brood over it. But you know, I've been thinking about it, and I think it's better to tell you. Because I don't intend to show up in front of Tim again. And if I fly away without saying anything, won't Tim try to find me with all his might? I don't want that to happen.]

 

What do you mean you don't want to appear in front of me again? His heart sank. What happened last night crossed his mind like a flash. Why didn't he suspect his partner who does a lot of things he doesn't usually do. He’s not one to say thank you or goodbye, almost to the point of rarity. Seeing him walked into his apartment without saying goodbye or see you tomorrow was a given but the him yesterday already caused a crack out of his daily life, why did you just blame it on your feelings? Tim bit his lips and shifted his gaze.  

 

[I don't know where to start. I'll just briefly tell you why I'm doing this. It's a little ticklish, but let's do it according to the third person. There's a part where it gets a little confusing when I put the word “I” in it.

There was a kid. He had a terrible accident and lost his guardian. He went to an orphanage after his relatives deprived him of his compensation for the accident. He thought the orphanage is a very pleasant place, but it wasn't, so the kid ran away. But actually, since then, there's been something strange about him. How do I put it.... is it called dissociative identity disorder? But it's a little different from that. At that time, there was no disconnection or loss of memory when one side was out, and everyone just hung out together and played. It would be right that there was some sort of detachment. He couldn't stand the fact that there was no one to protect him or give him affection. It was a complex and not very good defence mechanism. That's how two new children came into being.   

For your convenience, let's say A and B. A is strong and aggressive; he is the protector from everything hateful and hostile. B is a girl, nice, warm, compassionate and cowardly. Roughly speaking, they were individualized between malice and goodwill…… if you distinguish more childishly, it can be good and evil. It’s a bit different, but not complicated. Anyway, the kid got a lot of help from the two friends. He sought affection from them and he was protected. It's different from 'imaginary friends'. It was so realistic and..... it wasn't some kind of “strangers” that the kid made, it was a stronger concept of self-splitting “alter egos.”]

 

He couldn't understand what he meant right away. His calm tone, which seemed to convey other people's affairs, didn't seem to change in the letter, so he had belatedly understood the sentences. The fact that this out-of-the-box story could have belonged to his partner only come to mind a few seconds later. Was it because it reminded him of the strange behaviours he’s been seeing lately? Tim, who was muttering in his mouth to understand the contents of the letter, quickly turned over the letter.

 

[So, as a result, there were three children. The children who ran away from the orphanage, they didn't even know the hardship that comes after, so what's the difference when they go outside? It was in the back alley where the children drifted in. They met a man there. As you can imagine, that guy wasn't such a nice, warm, or decent type of guardian. The extent of it wasn't even average. You know, the kind of violence and insults and the likes you’d expect…. well, things like that.

They were always locked up in a small room except for the time when the man ordered him to work. Then a series of accidents happened. Conflicts within the children and conflicts between the children and the man were expressed at the same time..... and A who I just told you about killed the man, and then killed B who tried to stop him. The other kid who watched it, the pillar which split A and B, ended up killed A who committed the murder. To sum up, I'd say there's only one child left in the end….

The problem is, the only real bloody murder was A killing the man. Murder and conflict between the children all happened in one body. Do you get what I mean? Tim, the kid killed himself. At the time, he didn't even know they were him. In fact, even after nearly 20 years, he didn't know they were him.

The kid ran away. And forgetting his name, forgetting everything. And he got a new name in a new place, and he started living up to the name. There may be some people who can't erase their memories that conveniently, but the oblivion at that time was for survival. If he didn't forget, he couldn't ask people for help with a normal face. Unless he forgets the dead kids or sublimates them into beautiful memories, they were going to be too big a rock to hold. No matter how a little off the top the kid is. The murder must have been a shock, isn't it funny?

For the child to grow up to be a civil servant is even funnier. It was a pretty rough ride. In the meantime, some changes began to take place. Well, I don’t know….. It’s a little hard to pin down. Maybe it's because he met someone, or maybe it's because he can't stop the rock from rolling down. Or maybe both of them.]

 

As if he had really thought hard about it, the handwriting that had been flowing like water was written with a little careful pressure. He can see the mark where the ballpoint pen tapped on the paper a few times. In the next sentence, the writing flew again.

 

[Critically speaking, Tim. It was a masterpiece. The civil servant who was living under a new name and the child from his childhood were temporarily dissociated. That was the final blow. Why did he do that? I can guess but I can't say it for sure. It's quite difficult to analyse and explain all of his actions well. I'm going to think about it slowly from now on. But if I look at it a little bit, roughly........ maybe it's because he met a prick who kept poking into his affairs, maybe it's because of a faintly remaining feeling of guilt, or maybe it's because of the child's resistance to him that wants to forget about it forever. Anyway, the post-ego feels at odds with the dissociation... it's funny. The civil servant finally tried to dig into his memory. And he figured it out. Everything. Things he didn't know back then. All the ugly things that happened in his childhood, and the fact how he eventually killed himself inside him.

Tim, that girl was right. Jeffrey said the same thing right. I'm empty. That's quite a lot too. Fear and sympathy, hatred and love. A lot of it died with the kids. No, it would be more accurate to say that I killed it with them. I don't blame anyone. Because I did it. I don't even know how much I can call myself “me”. You're dizzy, aren't you? Me too. Please don't think it's just a hypothetical thing that happened in my head. It was real for me; most of all, it was vivid. The kids were real, I didn't even know they were me until recently.

It wasn't that I didn't think it was strange. Why do I react a little out of line with others. When people say they are scared, and when they feel sympathy or compassion, I can't feel anything special. I can't say that the emotions are completely gone, but it was in a very pale colour. But soon I stopped thinking. It didn't change even if I thought about it. And I also vaguely thought I might change someday. If I stay put in the crowd, one day I might be similar. I think I understand a little bit finally. Even if I wait, nothing will change. I can't even call it a desirable thing.]

 

It felt like he was standing in the middle of a bad dream. Tim once again bit his lips, unable to form any words. The sudden surge of sentences that came before him were rapidly conveying the unacceptable facts. It was too sudden. The unfriendly and cold feeling stickily irritated Tim. With unshakable handwriting, Tim’s former partner was saying how he seemed out of place. And he even laid out the unbelievable causes for that. Tim raised his hand a little spasmodically and covered his mouth.  

 

[The split kid will keep his head out as long as I remain a cop. As long as I'm still here, that kid will think I'm living while turning a blind eye to the dead children. I think this is not the right place for me. As a matter of fact, I don't care, I can ignore it. But the kid is not necessarily like that. Are you getting confused? You don't really need to. There are three children, one adult. The adult is me, of course. I'm just playing tug-of-war with one of the kids who lived. Basically, it's the same, and in fact, now I don't know if there's a boundary between the two but….. Let's stop, I'm about to confuse myself.   

I wouldn't have had to split that much if there was someone like Tim next to me back then, would I? Hahaha.]

 

Tim's eyes were contorted. I wouldn't have had to be that divided if there was only someone like Tim with me. The handwriting that was written as if with no significance smelled of regret that was so faint if it was not perceived properly. Tim shook his head a few times feeling like he’s swimming in the midst of chaos.

 

[I don't think I'll ever show up in front of you again. What I said to the Chief is not completely wrong either. The world is big and we have a lot of time ahead, so we might meet again by chance someday. I will avoid such a situation as much as I can. That would be better for Tim. Yeah, it's dogmatic, I admit it.

I thought I'd meet you and talk to you once, but then I wasn't sure if Tim would let me go nicely. Tim is a good person. Sometimes it's better not to have a face-to-face conversation. It might be rude of me to unilaterally cut you off like this, but that's all I can think of right now.

It's okay to be angry; I’m this kind of person so just forget about me. It's just that I'm the weird case, so Tim doesn't have to worry about me or doubt people because of me. It's hard because I know you'll be troubled even if I say it like this.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this apology didn't feel desperate enough too. At least I wanted to say this to you. I owe Tim too much. And Tim was a fascinating person, and people can feel - especially someone who could be dangerous - and avoided those who are fundamentally different from themselves. It's not that it’s rational; it's kind of like how animals smell it. So there were very few people who have ever approached me. I'm sure your first impression of me is not appealing enough to neutralize that sense of incongruity, isn’t it? But Tim didn't do that, so I thought it was amazing. A rare philanthropist, I suppose. But it's true that I didn't hate it. That's why I'm leaving this to Tim. You can dispose of it no matter how. I don't mind if you hand it over to Jeffrey.

I'm thinking about getting out of New York for now. There are a whole lot of subtle and prickly things to me left here…. I could have gotten rid of at least one. Anyway, um, Tim. Take care. Meet a better girl than Rita, have beautiful children, and live well. If it's Tim, you can double as a good dad and a good husband. Just bury the name Jude Green. If you don't see me as time goes by, you will gradually forget me. There's a saying, there's no feeling in the world that will last forever, so if you know it, you can get peace in your mind. So, um.

Goodbye, Tim.

-Jude Green.]

 

The letter was giving a brief farewell. Tim rummaged through the letter for a moment like a lost person. The message from the letter was clear. Story of his childhood, dissociation, and the fact that he will never come back to him again. It felt like his brain was jumbled up and flowed like a mush. He couldn't organize what was what right away. He was so befuddled that the car window seemed to melt in his eyes. The shock, which came unannounced, left his body all tangled up. No, it wasn't without notice. Tim spits out something like a curse to himself. He did think it was strange, and he definitely sensed that it was strange.  

Loss and confusion and other unknown debris were mixed up in a turbid mixture. Tim lay down in the driver's seat pinching his suddenly throbbing head. The shock of what he once said to him when he was drunk came to reality and made Tim devastated.  

-You, I thought you might just evaporate one day.

The loss was unfamiliar to the young detective. Something seemed to spring up when he remembered the letter clearly stating that his partner who had always sat in the passenger seat was not coming back. You want me to meet a better girl than Rita and have a beautiful baby and live a better life? Just bury the name Jude Green? Time will take care of that? -Bang! Tim punched the steering wheel hard with his fist. Feeling of guilt and sadness made him choke more than the anger he felt at the moment. He thought he was different from ordinary people, but he didn't think that would be a problem. And no matter what he says, he never meant to push him away - Even if he had finally told him in this letter now, he has no intention of looking at it with contempt. He could've helped him somehow if he had asked for help.

-No, maybe that's why he left more letters. Tim thought so with a blurry vision. Tim is a good person. It’s almost like he heard his voice mixed with lazy laughter. He hasn't fully understood the stories that he wrote in the letter yet, but he could tell for sure that he doesn't intend to come back as he emphasizes in every part of the letter. A drop of water fell with a flick on the steering wheel.  

It was early in the morning, and the sun was shining brightly. The brown-haired detective held the letter in his car and commemorated the rude loss in a way similar to that of average people, but slightly harsher than normal.

I didn’t plan to cry….. and remember, if you don’t want regrets in your life, communicate. A lot can happen in less than a week.