On The Run

(*This story contains explicit language, violence, and mentions suicidal thoughts*)

I’m on the run again. Fuck me, I’m on the goddamn run again. And why am I on the run again? That six letter devil of a word. Murder. Fuckin’ murder.

So how did I get into this mess? I’ll tell you. My name is Eric Tatenbaum, and this is my story.

Six years ago, my best friend in the world was diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer. Instant death sentence. Unfortunately, it wasn't an easy road for him. There was a lot of pain and suffering. And it ended with him laying up in a hospital bed, vomiting blood and screaming high pitched screams of agony. Sometimes, at night, I can still hear those screams. They haunt me. He died at 10:27pm the night of October 14th, 2018. The monitor flat lined and the grip of his hand holding mine loosened. I was all he had left in the world. No family. No other friends. Just me. And then he was gone.

He had rented my basement apartment in my house, and had been living there for five years, although ‘rented’ is a loose term since he never paid any rent. I didn’t care. I enjoyed the company. Two weeks after he died, I went into the apartment for the first time. I couldn't muster up the courage before that. It felt sad, empty, and alone. I started boxing up his stuff, planning to donate it to goodwill, when I found something in his nightstand. It was a DVD with ERIC - PLAY ME written on the front. Curious, I put the DVD into the player and sat on his bed to watch.

Eric, my oldest friend in the world. If you’re watching this, that means I’m gone. I wish I had the courage to talk to you about this in person, but I was a coward. So unfortunately this is not something you’re going to be happy to hear. I’m sorry for that…

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I got a terrible pit in my stomach. I listened as he continued.

Three years ago, the night we went out for Spencer’s thirtieth birthday, I got wasted. You probably remember. It was the night we got kicked out of Finley’s because I peed off the balcony right onto a bouncer's head… remember?

I did. Instantly, I felt sad and missed my friend and the old times we shared.

Remember I was trying to get you to come home, but you wanted to stay and chat up that chick Alicia? You ended up sleeping at her place, right? Well, I told you I took an Uber home, but that wasn’t 100% honest. I drove. I shouldn't have, but I did. And when I was on route 24, I hit what I thought was a deer. I swerved off the road and got out to check the damage to my car. But when I got out, I realized it wasn’t a deer I hit… Do you remember the town wide search for Danny Gillespie?

The pit in my stomach churned. Of course I remembered. We participated in a grid search together three weekends in a row. Jason had been adamant that we did everything we could to find him. A seven year old boy who runs away from home in the middle of the night was bound to turn up somewhere. But, as I recalled at the time, he never did show up.

Turns out, Danny was walking in the dark on route 24, and I hit him square on when I swerved onto the shoulder in my drunken stupor. It must have killed him instantly, because he was still and lifeless by the time I approached him.

So I had just learned my best friend in the world had murdered a seven year old child. But, it gets worse…

I panicked. I couldn’t call the police. I couldn’t involve you. So I stuffed his body in the trunk and drove home. I buried him in the backyard. I know, it was stupid, but I was so paranoid about everything that I just acted without thinking. Then, time went on and I couldn’t find a way to rectify it.

Yeah… so that happened…

You’ll find a map in the safe in my closet, showing exactly where the body is buried. The combo to the safe is 23-17-9. There’s a stack of cash I was squirreling away, in case I ever did get caught and had to skip town. Take the cash for yourself, then call the cops and tell them what I did. You can show them this DVD and bring that poor family some peace. I’m sorry for lying to you all this time, Eric. I didn’t want to involve you, or implicate you in any way. I was ashamed of what I’d done. I’m sorry for leaving you to deal with this. I thought about telling the cops before my time passed, but I’m a coward. I don’t want to spend any remaining time I have left sitting in a prison cell. I hope you understand and find it in your heart to forgive me one day. 

I love you, Eric.

It sucked finding out your best friend in the world had this huge secret. It sucked for the family who had lost their son and never had any answers. But what sucked the most was what happened when I pressed eject on the DVD player. The disc got stuck. Of course it did. The one living shred of evidence proving I had nothing to do with this crime was stuck inside the DVD player. I pried it open, and as I did, the mainframe bent and the disc snapped into a hundred tiny little pieces. And there went my proof. I was fucked.

I considered going to the police anyway. I could explain what happened to the DVD player, show them the map, and hope for the best. But I didn’t think they’d believe I knew nothing about it. I figured they’d think I was using a dead man with no links to anyone or anything to get away with my own murder. After all, there was a body buried in my goddamn backyard.

I also didn't love the idea of sullying my best friend's name. Everyone would know the name Jason Friel, and they’d associate it with a child murderer. So, after some deliberation, I decided to keep my mouth shut and just let it be. As long as I was living there, the secret would be safe enough. Life moved on. 

Four years after Jason’s death, a knock came at my door. When I answered it, I recognized the man right away. His name was Rick Poser, and he was the chief of police who had just retired. I knew him because he led the grid search for Danny Gillespie’s body back when Jason and I participated. Apparently, he had just moved into the house next door and wanted to introduce himself. At his feet, sitting politely, was his retired K-9 German Shepherd. Nervously, I said my pleasantries and sent him on his way. Having a cop next door didn’t make me feel better about my backyard situation, but I figured I was just being paranoid.

Three days later, the barking started. At first it was only here and there, no big deal. But then, it got more and more prominent. I didn’t think much of it, until I noticed a small hole in the dirt where our fences separated. I waited outside until the next time he let the dog out, and the barking started again. I noticed the dog was trying to burrow his way under the fence, and was going nuts trying to get to my side. It instantly clicked at that point. When I first met Chief Poser, that same K-9 had been sitting at his side. He was involved in the search for the missing boy. They had him sniffing clothes, trying to catch a scent of him somewhere in the woods. And now, he was going bonkers trying to get to my yard. It couldn't have been a coincidence… He had picked up the scent again.

I had to move the body.

I chose two am to do my digging, like a fucking asshole. Sweat poured down my face as I shoveled deep into the earth. I had no idea how far down it was, but I knew I couldn’t stop. I was achey, tired, and paranoid with every scoop of dirt. Then, I hit something. Thinking it was maybe a makeshift wooden casket, I brought the shovel down, hard. Turns out, it was a steel waste pipe that I pierced. The smell of shit instantly fumed the air. It was disgusting. And what’s worse… that’s when I heard the dog climb out of the doggy door next door and start barking uncontrollably.  Paranoid, I ducked down in the hole. About thirty seconds later, a light turned on in the neighbor's bedroom upstairs. He looked out from the window and had a clear view of me. I was caught. 

I ran back into the house as fast as possible. I grabbed the money from the safe and fled. Looking back now, I wish I would have told the cops the truth and hoped for the best. But I was so sure they’d lock me up. A few minutes later, I pulled out of my driveway and fled, leaving the state of New York. I left my entire world behind. All because of Jason and his fucking secret.

Three days later, I saw the first press release on the news with my picture on it. Turns out, I was labeled a child killer on the run quite quickly. A statewide search had commenced. By that time, I was already in North Carolina. 

That all happened two years ago. The news had turned national, of course. Over the course of those two years, I’ve lived in seven different states and had as many different identities. Turns out, for a hefty price, it was easy to get paperwork proving you’re someone you’re not. I’ve had menial jobs, usually out of the public eye, where I made ends meet. I still had some of the cash Jason left me, but that was dwindling fast. And every so often, someone would start to recognize me. As soon as I heard those dreadful words - Hey, you look familiar… - I wouldn’t risk it. I picked up and moved immediately.

Now it’s happened again. Most recently, I was working in a butcher shop. Not even out front… in the back, out of the bird's eye view. However, a customer peeked into the back today when looking for the restroom, saw me and said those awful words - Hey, you look familiar… -  I walked out, leaving two weeks worth of a paycheck behind.

Now I’m on the road again. Running. Fuckin’ murder. A murder I didn’t even commit. This is what my life has become. I’ve thought about giving up. I think I might. This hardly seems worth it anymore. Maybe I will commit a murder… of the self inflicted type. After all, it can’t get much worse than this. I’m tired of running. I’m tired of changing. I don’t want this anymore.

We’ll see what tomorrow brings… if there is a tomorrow at all…