Innocence
Posted: 16 Jun 2011, 20:31
I didn't do it.
It looks like I did it, people think I did it, and, hell, sometimes I WISH I did it. But I didn't. I have no idea who did.
It all started out a few weeks ago. My little sister, Kelly, was about to graduate. She should graduate next week, if I counted right, but I'm not exactly sure what day it even is anymore. They all seem to run together.
Kelly was all I really had, and I was all she had. I protected her. She needed me there, that's the only reason why I stayed as long as I did. If it weren't for her, I would have left the second I'd turned eighteen.
Frank was a dick. I hated Frank. Most people who knew him did. But not mom. No, she loved the bad boy. "No one understands him but me." No, you're the only one who didn't understand him.
When the police came, and I overheard them talking to mom, and they said that Frank was dead, not gonna lie, I was overjoyed. But then they asked her if she'd seen me. They were looking for me.
I won't lie. Kelly and I panicked. She hid me in her room, under her bed. It was such a good hiding place. It was the same place I always sent her. We hollowed out the bottom of her box spring, so if you hold yourself up by stiffening your arms and legs, you can hide IN her bed. It wasn't very comfortable to sleep on, but Frank was worse.
Maybe if I didn't panic so bad, things wouldn't have gotten so far. But I did, and they did.
The cops didn't search her room very well, but they tore mine apart. I stayed in Kelly's room until it got dark. After Mom went to sleep, Kelly and I gathered some clothes and stuff in a backpack. I took all the money I had left from my job, which wasn't much after I bought books for my summer classes, and Kelly gave me everything she had too. At around midnight, I ran away.
I knew they'd be checking my friends' houses first, so I got as far away from the town as possible. I hitched rides whenever I could, and sometimes stowed away on trains. You can usually get at least two stations down on the passenger trains before they look for tickets, and the worst they ever do is kick you out.
So I got as far away from home, and as far away from what's left of Frank as I could.
He wasn't a good guy. Do I know who killed him? Nope. Could've been his bookie, could have been his dealer, could have been one of the whores he cheated on Mom with.
But as much as I would have liked to have been the one with the knife, it wasn't me.
It looks like I did it, people think I did it, and, hell, sometimes I WISH I did it. But I didn't. I have no idea who did.
It all started out a few weeks ago. My little sister, Kelly, was about to graduate. She should graduate next week, if I counted right, but I'm not exactly sure what day it even is anymore. They all seem to run together.
Kelly was all I really had, and I was all she had. I protected her. She needed me there, that's the only reason why I stayed as long as I did. If it weren't for her, I would have left the second I'd turned eighteen.
Frank was a dick. I hated Frank. Most people who knew him did. But not mom. No, she loved the bad boy. "No one understands him but me." No, you're the only one who didn't understand him.
When the police came, and I overheard them talking to mom, and they said that Frank was dead, not gonna lie, I was overjoyed. But then they asked her if she'd seen me. They were looking for me.
I won't lie. Kelly and I panicked. She hid me in her room, under her bed. It was such a good hiding place. It was the same place I always sent her. We hollowed out the bottom of her box spring, so if you hold yourself up by stiffening your arms and legs, you can hide IN her bed. It wasn't very comfortable to sleep on, but Frank was worse.
Maybe if I didn't panic so bad, things wouldn't have gotten so far. But I did, and they did.
The cops didn't search her room very well, but they tore mine apart. I stayed in Kelly's room until it got dark. After Mom went to sleep, Kelly and I gathered some clothes and stuff in a backpack. I took all the money I had left from my job, which wasn't much after I bought books for my summer classes, and Kelly gave me everything she had too. At around midnight, I ran away.
I knew they'd be checking my friends' houses first, so I got as far away from the town as possible. I hitched rides whenever I could, and sometimes stowed away on trains. You can usually get at least two stations down on the passenger trains before they look for tickets, and the worst they ever do is kick you out.
So I got as far away from home, and as far away from what's left of Frank as I could.
He wasn't a good guy. Do I know who killed him? Nope. Could've been his bookie, could have been his dealer, could have been one of the whores he cheated on Mom with.
But as much as I would have liked to have been the one with the knife, it wasn't me.