It's not me! (Part 3)

Title: It's Not Me! (Part 3)

Author: Haripriya

Author's Note: Hello everyone!! I hope you all are having a great day! Also, I hope you enjoy the third part of this series! 

It was a cold December and a chilly Tuesday morning. At least I think. I don't even know what's happening outside. I'm too stuck behind these dark, coal colored bars. I have a window, just for the namesake of it. One can't even put his hand out properly. There too, are bars, thick ones, covering one from breathing the fresh air. I'm always surrounded by people. Yes, they may not be welcoming faces. They may look a bit grouchy, a bit like they're watching like a hawk. That if you move, they're going to kill you right then and there. But still faces.

Though, I still feel alone. Feel very distanced from my family, from my friends, from where I am. I have started to make this feel like home, and believe me, I've tried. But no matter how much I try to like it, try to accept the fact that I'm going to live here, it just won't feel like it. 

I wonder how my dead brother must be doing. 

Hope he's doing good in heaven. No one cares how I do anyway. I bet every single person in this world is having a better day than me. I continue wondering, as I sit next to the tiny window in the little space I have.

I bet all of my neighbors feel much safer for their kids attending school. I still remember the old lady I used to mow the lawn for said, "He is a bad influence to my grandchildren and everyone else in this community." to the police when they came to our house.

From that day onward, I hate that old pesky lady. I mean, what's her problem with me? What did I ever do to her? Other than being kind towards her and doing her chores, I don't know what else I have done. 

"Hey kid, your breakfast is here, go get it." one of the police security guards calls me, and I listen as I put my head down.

"What's for breakfast?" I ask him.

"You do have eyes and hands, right? Go see yourself, you pesky boy. I have a job to do." he pushed me as he continued to call the other kids for breakfast.

I stare at the dirty floor, as I continue walking. 

"Ha! The kid who pushed his own brother's here again! I still can't believe what a liar he is. I bet he still thinks a ghost did it! Don't you?" a tall guy comes up to me.

"Get out of my face!" I scream.

"Oh, why? Am I bothering you, little kid? Wait, what's your name again? Some Leonardo...right?" he asks, and I get frustrated even more.

"Can you just stop bothering me? Also, my name isn't Leonardo, you old man! My name is Lee." I tell him, hoping he would get out of the way now.

Somehow, this morning I felt a little bit hungrier than ever. 

"Fine, you're lucky for now. But I swear, I'll catch you later." the tall guy says, and dashes out.

So pathetic. I swear, he doesn't know anything. I mumble as I get out of my cellar.

To my surprise, I find that breakfast is soggy oatmeal, with dirty water. Also, as a "topping" on my oatmeal, I see a dead fly. 

I guess no breakfast then. I whisper to myself as I slowly throw it out.

Life in juvenile is just the worst feeling ever. I feel like no one understands me. No one cares for me. I feel like a lonely sparrow, trying to dodge its predators, and trying to survive. 

I told everyone that I wasn't the one who pushed my brother into the lake. But everyone has started to make fun of me for lying. I tell them that it wasn't me, but no, they laugh.

Now my name here is Lee the Liar. At least I created some fame. 

Do you know when famous people walkout from their car, or anything like that to the red carpet, they have a song dedicated to them? Luckily, I have one too. It might not be as majestical as their's, but the kids in juvenile dedicate this song to me. 

Lee, the liar,

the liar, liar, liar

Lee the liar,

who puts his pants on fire

But, he claims he didn't,

even when everyone saw him,

he says he's not the one,

though we all know he's the one

Lee, the liar,

the liar, liar, liar,

Lee the liar,

who puts his pants on fire

He says "I'm not the one!"

Though we know what he has done,

He says "I'm not lying!"

Though we see his pants are frying

I wish my life wasn't a tragedy. I wish it was like an upbeat song, like a happy story. Alas, it isn't.

I've got parents who hate me, friends who hate me, neighbors who hate me, now, even the universe hates me.

The only thing I do to keep myself not bored is by keeping track of my time in jail by using tally marks. I wet my hand with the groggy oatmeal we get every single day, and once I throw it in the trash, I come to my cellar and mark the day. Today was going to be no different.

I was coming back from throwing breakfast, and to my cellar, when I saw it.

"NO!!! Who got in here? Who did? Who wiped it? Please, tell me? Who did?" I shrieked too loudly.

"Kid! Would you keep it down a notch? What's all the fuss you're making? We give you food, and this is how you treat us back?" that same police guard asks...no threatens me.

"But...someone erased all the marks! I need to know who did it! I was marking them for a reason! Please, check the security camera!" I plead with him.

"Oh...I asked one of our janitors to clean your cell. Honestly, it was really messy. Kid, next time try to clean your cell by yourself." he says, and walks out as I stand there shocked.

~The End~