A picture hung on every lamp post, every tree, every wall, littering the entire town with the same person. A person with pale skin, dull blue eyes, wilted blonde hair, and a crooked smile decorated the paper, smiling dully on every street. Underneath the picture was the same sentence,
“Have you seen this person?”
Of course nobody has seen this person. This young man, in his teens, left the country over two years ago, yet the police are still determined to find him. Even his remaining relatives haven’t seen him, probably because they are too scared to even utter his name. Heaven knows where he is now, for the world is better with him gone.
This man is named Fallon Muskin. He has shown that he is capable of even the evilest of deeds at age 11. Haven’t been convicted until he was 14, Muskin managed to ruin the lives of 20 people in three short years. He tortured people, ruined them, destroyed their purpose of living, yet nobody seemed to believe such a young kid could do such evil things. That is, not until one day.
His mom was walking to his room, having heard voices. She was one of the people who refused to believe the rumors of her “precious son”. She grew wary, however, as she approached her son’s room. She heard someone yelling, and the voice was cut off, replaced with pained whimpering. She peeked through the crack of the door, and what met her eyes shocked her.
Her son, her precious son, was standing over what looked to be an 11-year-old, holding a blade in his hands. The blade was dripping blood on the wooden floor, and Fallon stepped back. A small, bloody boy was lying on the floor, his face scraped and burned. His wide eyes were filled with pain, tears running down his cheeks, mixing with blood before it reached the ground. The mom instantly knew what was happening, and rushed down to call the police. Her son, however, saw what she was doing.
She ran to the phone, not knowing her son was right behind her, holding the blade with an eager gleam in his dull blue eyes.
The last thing Fallon’s mom ever heard was, “911, what’s your emergency?”
The police knew that Fallon murdered his own mom. The evidence was clear, the blade confiscated, and the police saw Fallon’s fingerprints all over it. He was to serve a life sentence in jail, but escaped a mere week after he was imprisoned. Ever since then, people were in a panic. Police swarmed the town for the next week, but never saw him. They decided that he left, and continued their search beyond town limits. They never found him, never knew a thing about where he was. They interrogated his family but got nothing.
“How could I know anything? Strange boy from the start. He was always the naughty kid, but still! Never, in my wildest dreams, would I think that he would kill my sister! His own mother!” Fallon’s aunt, Lia, cried, sobbing hysterically.
Fallon’s family was absolutely horrified when they found out what happened. They refused to talk to anybody, never even mentioned his name.
Meanwhile, the search continued. Fallon was never found. The city police wanted to continue searching but didn’t know where to start. It was common from that day to see multiple police cars swarming the streets in different neighborhoods, towns, even states, but Fallon was never found. Some thought he left the country, but that couldn’t be possible. A 14-year-old boy couldn’t possibly leave the country without being spotted. Then again, nobody believed a 14-year-old boy could torture people and kill his own mother.
“Bryan Jordan May, what is the meaning of this?”
I looked up from my console. There stood my dad, his frosty eyes examining me. His arms were crossed, yet his eyes looked interested.
“Whaddyamean?” I asked, looking at him with a mouthful of ice cream.
“I mean,” my dad began, “what are you doing? I left for work at 8:00 and come back at 5:00 to see my son..."
Oh, my, god. I cannot do this anymore...
"...playing video games from the time I left to the time I came back. Did you even stop at all?”
I swallowed. “Yeah, I did. I took bathroom breaks and went to get some ice cream,” I said, gesturing to the empty cartons of mint chocolate chip ice cream.
“Oh, ha ha,” my dad said, rolling his eyes, yet looking amused.
“So, dad, if you don’t mind, could you move? I’m almost done with this level…”
“No, absolutely not. You have had enough,” my dad said, unplugging my consol.
I groaned, and my dad chuckled.
Seriously? I cannot believe I have sunk this low... laughing... that feels weird...
“DAD!” someone screamed. My sister, Chase, came hurtling down the stairs and glared at me with disgust.
“Dad, Bryan,” she pointed an accusing finger at me, “has been playing video games all day. He wouldn’t even let me watch My Little Pony!”
Chase... come on! You know better than this. Be smart...
My dad raised his eyebrows at me. Chase looked delighted. That annoying pipsqueak. She loved seeing me getting into trouble, yet she didn’t know that I had dad on my side.
“I know, hon, but I already told him, so no harm done,” my dad said, patting Chase on her shoulder.
Crisis averted... gotta go... maybe he'll follow me... then I can...
Chase’s triumphant expression deflated like a balloon. I smirked at her, getting up to follow dad. Chase grabbed my shirt and pulled me toward her.
“You just wait. One day, I’ll get you,” Chase whispered, her teeth bared like a dog.
I rolled my eyes mockingly. “Oh, yes, I am shaking with fear right now.”
I left Chase there, her small eyes widening. I grinned to myself. I spotted dad in the kitchen, chopping up some apples. I sat on the island, and he turned toward me, bags under his eyes. He sighed, dropping his knife and put his palms on my knees.
“Are you okay dad?” I asked, worried.
He lifted his hands from my knees and rubbed his frosty eyes.
“Yes, yes. Just an exhausting day at work…” he mumbled, leaning against the counter, his eyes still closed.
Can I even do this? What'll he do?
My dad worked for the Creekwood Police. He is in charge of the hunt for Fallon Muskin.
“Did you get anything on Fallon?” I asked eagerly.
“Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes,” he said, his voice cracking.
Yes, yes, yes... yes, yes, yes...
“What did you get?” I asked immediately. I was very interested in Fallon. He’s a nationwide know criminal, and my dad is one of the people in charge of getting him.
He looked at me, his eyes sweeping over me. He sighed deeply, his knuckles whiting on the countertop.
“Well, I found out where he is.”
“Wait, let me explain. You see, when he left, he was taken in by distant relatives of his.”
“Why would they take him in after what he did?”
“Well, I don’t really know why they would do such a thing. I am pretty sure they regret their decision now. Anyway, when they took him in, they completely altered his appearance so the police wouldn’t recognize him.”
“Well, they dyed his hair and gave him colored contacts. They changed his style of clothes. Then they did something unthinkable.”
I held my breath. My dad paused, breathing deeply. Then he continued.
“They erased his memory.”
“What?!” I explode. “How is that possible?”
“Goodness knows. I think they may have used some sort of drug. Anyway, it worked. His personality changed. He literally became a different person.”
“Why did they do that though?”
“I think they wanted to make him safe. They knew he was murderous, and obviously, they didn’t want to be killed in their sleep. Or worse.”
So, much, worse...
“So,” I said slowly, “you’ve found him?”
“That’s great!” I said, beaming.
My dad, however, couldn’t look less excited. His skin kind of looked… gray. His eyelids drooped.
“Dad, why aren’t you happy? You’ve been looking for this guy for the past two years,” I say slowly.
My dad didn’t speak. He looked at me, and I was shocked to see tears in his eyes.
“Dad, did Fallon do something to you?” I asked quietly, waiting for him to answer.
“Then what’s wrong?”
My guilt was too great. My shame came crashing down on me, more powerfully, as I looked at Bryan. For two years, I kept a disastrous secret, a secret, when unleashed, could wreak havoc. But here stood Bryan, his green eyes looking curiously at mine. Green eyes. Oh god. He’s such a sweet kid, an innocent kid, not knowing who he really is. I knew, two years ago, that I was playing a risky game. But I couldn’t leave Bryan alone. I did such terrible things to him. He thinks of me as his father. Two years. It’s been two years since I’ve had a peace of mind. Two years since I held onto this secret. Byran… so innocent, so unknowing, so different. I remember what he was, and I think I did the right thing, but then I remembered… what I did was illegal. But still, I did it for the greater good... Right?
This raging battle between me has been fought for two years. It’s time for one side to conquer the other. . I think I know what side should win. If only this battle didn’t have to be fought at all. If only… if only none of this had happened. Bryan’s past life… so dangerous… I have put my entire family at risk… why did I do this? For the greater good, my mind chided me. I looked at Bryan, his expression unreadable, and I knew, with a jolt, what I must do. He must know...
“Dad?” I echoed, worried.
He looked at me, grasping my shoulders and his tears splashing onto my jeans.
“I’ve known where Fallon was for two years. Because…” He paused, leaning in, and whispered in my ear, “you are Fallon Muskin.”