Repression

One evening, I was walking home from the convenience store when these two men were knocking on my door and calling out for me. I decided to walk back to where I came from and didn't look back. I also made sure that the hoodie I had on covered my face if they did try to track me down. I didn't want any confrontation with them, as I didn't even know who they were. All I knew about them was that they wore gray suits and had muscles the size of my head. There was no way I was going to deal with them.

I was so terrified that I started jogging to pretend I was just exercising, and I usually don't work out. I nearly dropped my plastic bag with goodies inside but managed to hold on to them until I got around the block's corner. There, I accidentally dropped it on the ground. The sidewalk I was now walking on was right next to the urban roadway that took you to Broadway St. Thankfully, there weren't very many cars out tonight, so I wasn't as horrified of getting hit by a car.

I felt like I was in the clear. I would go to my friend's house down the street and just bunker down there for the night. However, my luck changed when I heard a car pulling up from behind me. I continued jogging and tried to play it off as someone going the wrong direction, as this was a one-way street going the other way. Still, the car continued following me until I broke into a freeform sprint. There wasn't any way I was going with whoever was in that car. So I ran as fast as I could for as long as I could.

I knew I would give out at some point, but I wanted to find a spot where the men wouldn't see me. They could easily crush my skull with their bare hands, which did not sound enticing to me whatsoever. So I ran around the corner and tried climbing over the fence of the first house I saw. But my unathletic self prevented me from doing so. It was a steel fence as well, so that made it even more difficult for me. Instead of trying forever, though, I decided to give up and run again. This time, the men in the car got out and were chasing after me. I tried my best to flee from them, but they caught up to me and tackled me down on the yard of some person's house. 

"What do you want with me?" I sputtered as one of the men pulled my arms back and wrapped handcuffs around them.

"You know what you did, and you're going to fix it." the man standing still said.

"I don't know shit. This is crazy and insane! I didn't do anything!" I shouted, hoping that someone from one of the houses would come out and help me. A plethora of people left their homes, but none of them helped me whatsoever. If anything, they seemed pretty entertained by this entire scene.

"You're coming with us." the other man said as he pulled me up from the ground. He pulled me up so fast that I thought I was going to fall backward.

They forced me into the back of their black sedan before taking their seats in the front. There was chainmail separating the front and back passenger area. Not that there was much of a point in it, considering I was in handcuffs.

Then, once they were both situated, we took off through the neighborhood into the unknown.

During the entire car ride, it was dead silent. Whenever I would ask them a question, they would either give very vague answers or ignore it altogether. They refused to tell me where we were going and never told me what I did. I thought it was a load of bullshit, but I couldn't do anything about it. The only thing I liked about the ride was the drive on the beautiful bridge over the mesmerizing river. The stars reflected off of the water beautifully, and the moon shined magnificently as well. Still, it didn't ease the tension in my head and stomach as the men drove me to wherever we were going.

After a while, we finally stopped in front of some restaurant. There was one other car in the parking lot, a Jeep of some dark color. The license plate was missing from it, which I thought was odd. The men opened my door and told me to get out, which I did. The cold night air was soothing to me and calmed me down as they held me by the arms and escorted me into the restaurant. I didn't look at the restaurant's full name, but it was something related to chicken. What did a restaurant owner want with me?

Inside, it was dark, spotless, and organized, something that nearly every restaurant should aspire to be. Well, except for the dark part. The men sat me down in a booth before one of them took off towards the cash register area. His footsteps loudly plodded onto the tile floor as he left. Once it was silent, I took a deep breath and thought about why I was here. I didn't remember anything that would piss anyone off so much that they would chase me down and take me here.

I sat there quietly while the other man, still wearing sunglasses, just stared at me for the entire time. To say I was uncomfortable was a massive understatement. I downright felt violated. But it was his job to watch me, so I tried not to take it personally. Unless that was just what he did in his spare time, that thought made me even more disgusted.

It felt like forever sitting there at the booth with the man watching me. He didn't even take a seat anywhere. He just stood there with a stoic expression. But it wasn't too much longer until I heard some footsteps come from the employees' area again. This time, it sounded like more than one person. I braced myself for whatever was to happen.

"Mr. Crowder, it's been quite a while." An older gentleman politely said as he approached my table. "It seems as though we have some unfinished business." Once he was closer, I was able to see he was a healthy-looking, little skinny, light-tanned black man.

"Unfinished business?" I blurted out impatiently. "I don't even know who you are."

The man chuckled before taking a seat across from me. The moonlight showed that he wore a yellow shirt with orange stripes coming down vertically. He placed his hands above each other while resting his arms on the table as if he were casually waiting for his food to come out.

"Son, you know what happened last year," he said with a darker tone. I was caught slightly off guard and felt sweat pouring down my face.

"No, sir. I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just a guy who works at a coffee shop in the mornings. I work, come home, eat, sleep, and then do everything the next day. I don't understand what you are talking about." 

The man just let out a laugh while sitting up straighter. He must not have believed me, but it was the truth. At least, there wasn't anything that concerned him that was worth mentioning. I sat there in silence as the man continued cackling away as though he just heard the world's funniest joke. I never thought I was a comedian, so I knew this guy was off his chain.

After a moment of his strange laughter, he finally composed himself. This time, he sat straight and had his arms down this time.

"Laurena Washington, does that name ring any bells?" he asked me. I thought long and hard and eventually realized that she was one of my friends from long ago. We were study partners in our last year of college.

"Just a friend from college. What's it to you?" I asked as I tried to relax my posture. I didn't want him to take me as some easy guy who would tell him everything about my life.

"She's my daughter. Well, she was my daughter. Then, someone killed her." he explained to my horror. I never knew that someone murdered Laurena. I was so surprised that I tried covering my gaping mouth but then realized that I still had handcuffs.

"Holy shit, man, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, sorry doesn't fix what you did to her." the man replied, and my shock turned into confusion. I knew I had nothing to do with Laurena's death.

"I didn't do shit to her!" I furiously retorted. I never took kindly to those that accused me of doing something I did not do. However, the man just let out another small fit of laughter before staring at the table darkly. He was losing his mind. Probably already had been losing his mind since his daughter died. But it was not my fault.

"Son, lying doesn't change anything." he quietly said while picking at the table with his finger.

"I am not lying to you! I wouldn't have ever done anything to Laurena in my life! She was a good friend to me!" I stated loudly to emphasize the truth.

"Don't you keep lying to me, you bitch!" he stood up almost across the table now, nearly pressing his face against mine. I could feel the heat from his breath on my face as he stared into my eyes with a murderous glare. I definitely should have just stayed quieter. But there was nothing else for me to say but the truth. He was the one choosing to ignore it.

We were like this for a moment until he finally calmed himself and sat back in the booth. He adjusted his shirt before easing his expression to a more welcoming one. 

"I have proof. I'll show it to you now," the man stated before pulling something out of his pocket. It was a cell phone without a case on it. In my head, I called him a dumbass for doing that but refrained from saying it to his face. He started doing something on the phone for a few minutes before turning the phone to me. It was a text conversation I had with Laurena last year. We were discussing where to study, and I suggested we do so at my place.

"This was the day she died." the father softly added before taking back the phone.

Still, I had no recollection of the events that night. I don't remember studying with Laurena that night, nor would I study with her alone. We had a group of people we studied with, I thought. It didn't make sense to me. Then again, I didn't remember my last year of college vividly, so I could have been wrong.

"I don't remember anything that day," I said.

"Tough shit. Now tell me why you killed her."

"I didn't kill her, and I would not have a reason to."

"You can't just kill someone for no reason. Come on, tell me. I won't tell anyone else besides whoever is in this room." the man nodded at the two men in gray suits before repeating the gesture back. Then, they left for the kitchen.

"That won't change anything; I never killed her!" I explained, knowing that this man wasn't going to believe me. He responded with a sigh before looking around the room as though he were trying to hide something. Then, he pulled out something else from under the table. This time it was a revolver. It gleamed beautifully in the moonlight, but it struck fear into my heart. There was only one reason I could think of that would prompt him to take it out.

I pleaded with him to spare me and let me go. I repeatedly told him that I was innocent, and whoever said I murdered Laurena was framing me. I tried to shuffle out of the booth, but I fell to the floor as soon as I did. Hearing the man step out of his seat, I yelled and thrashed to avoid the man. All the while, he stared at me with a maniacal grin on his face. I soon realized that my death was inevitable and stopped moving and shouting. It was all pointless. I had no way to do anything, and no one would come for me at this time of the night.

The man knelt next to me and chuckled before speaking into my ear.

"Just remember what you did to me, my wife, and my daughter," he whispered before I looked up at him. Then, all I could see was him placing his revolver into his mouth. I shouted for him to stop, but it was already too late. A loud bang rocked the restaurant as his body slumped to the floor right next to me. I stared into his lifeless eyes as blood oozed out of the back of his head and mouth. I didn't hear where the gun landed when it fell, but that was the least of my concerns. I was more worried about lying with handcuffs next to a dead man.

Not long after, though, I heard some shuffling from the kitchen and saw the two men leaving the kitchen. I expected them to shoot me or beat me up when they got close to me, but they picked me and led me out of the restaurant for some odd reason. It was like I was some sort of criminal the way they were treating me.

All I could think about was the man's lifeless eyes and our brief if volatile, argument. His corpse just sat there like a worthless rag doll. Were these guys just going to let their boss' body rest there? Disgusting people, I thought. 

The worst thing about this was that I didn't kill Laurena, yet the man wouldn't believe me. But if he had met the killer, would he had done the same thing? That idea scared me even more. He was letting a murderer loose while losing another valuable human being. What was his wife going to think when she got the news?

It shouldn't have mattered to me, but I cared for some odd reason. I guess because I was a friend to Laurena, I felt somewhat connected to her father. Still, I wanted to put all of this behind me. The only problem was that I couldn't.

Every day after that incident, I could remember the man's sanity rapidly dwindling as he questioned me. His lifeless eyes were what terrified me the most. Seeing the eyes of a human corpse was something most people never even thought of seeing. But I was given an up-close view of Laurena's father's dead eyes. 

First, Laurena died.

Her father died next.

What was going to become of the wife?

All of those thoughts plagued me in my dreams, and even in the day, it haunted me. I was just going to have to repress another memory to carry on with my life.