Murder in Southwood (Epilogue)

Author's Note:

Hi everyone! This is some different perspective/epilogue to my previous story, Murder in Southwood! I would recommend reading that before reading this!

Also, I'm hosting a Reedsy cast! I currently need 6 more people in order to be able to start writing, so fill out this form if you'd like to participate! (I'm not revealing too many details about the plot yet, so just go with your gut). If the role you've chosen has been already filled out, I will let you know if I need you to choose a different role!

https://forms.gle/j7j9T7a573k1MBsV9

Thanks!

xo Starry

~~~

(Perspective of a Fly, because why not)

I flew around the hill, buzzing with delight. An apple tree! Yummy apples! I flew towards a particularly juicy one, watching a homosapien girl sit under the tree. She looked at these white squares that homosapiens called “photographs” and “newspapers”. Sheesh, these apes really loved to destroy trees to make things to put lead and ink on! And for what, ink colored in a way to look like you when you were younger? The girl looked stressed. Maybe I should save her a few apples.

Ignoring her, I continued to nibble on the red fruity delight. There were enough apples to last a lifetime! Maybe for everyone I knew! I was about to fly to my friends to let them know about the heavenly treat, when the girl said mumbled human gibberish.

Another ape came from behind her and a huge bAnG echoed. She dropped down over her photos. Huh, maybe she was tired. Delighted with my dinner, I flew off into the distance.

(Perspective of the Tree)

I stood on the hill, as I had for centuries. Humans, and other living organisms, would come to me, and take my children from my arms. And yet I had no defense. No way to bring my children back. However, without the fruit being taken or eaten, my children would never be able to grow and repeat the devastating cycle. I would try to fight the humans, trying to pick the apples frequently. In the end, they would win, and bite into my fruit.

Yet, this human girl didn’t do this. She just sat under my arms, looking stressed and tired. Shocked, perhaps. She mumbled something, but I couldn’t tell what since trees cannot listen, but sense vibrations through the air. A larger vibration shook the ground, as the girl dropped dead. A devastating sight, but I have seen worse. And I couldn’t carry her away, or heal her. I couldn’t move. So I stayed where I was, repeating the devastating cycle.

(Perspective of Benny)

I've hated John ever since we were kids. Even though I was the eldest, John still was the favorite one. He was more responsible. Better at school. Better at playing the piano. Better at playing sports. Better at being better. And then he got our father's store. Even though John knew nothing of running a business. He wanted to be a musician for crying out loud. I didn't understand. I wouldn't be able to inherit the store unless he gave it to me. Unless he was gone.

Then I started to plan.

I knew John would be alone at home that day. I knew our mother wouldn't be home for another couple hours. I knew our town was too small, too unnoticeable for someone to figure the case out. I entered the house, trying to stay silent. I didn't realize John had seen me. I held out my gun.

"Let me make this easier," I said, with a smirk.

John didn't say anything as he ran, grabbing anything he could find to throw at me. I dodged easily; My reflexes were better then his. The fight drew into the kitchen, and now John started to throw dishes and knives at me. I still barely managed to dodge the items, as I held out my gun to shoot.

John didn't make it out alive.

I didn't realize mother would bring in a detective from the city. Not to mention one so high class. She was very attentive in our blind town. Very noticeable in our hidden town. Very bold in our dull town.

I followed her to the hill, watching her red hair like a beacon in a crowd. The sun was setting, a sign that the people were heading into their homes. I held out the gun as she realized I killed John.

The shot rang out, as I ran home to tell my mother I would leave Southwood the next day. The people would find out sooner or later, since the detective held photos of John and I. Even our lousy police would be able to figure it out.

I'd run to the city. I'd get a job, maybe as a bartender or a chef. Or maybe I'd buy a piece of property to set up my own store. Maybe I'd have a new family. Make new friends. The possibilities were endless now that the two of them were gone. I smiled to myself.

Yes, I had done my job well.

(Epilogue)

I’m dead, gone from this planet, like the billions before me. I couldn’t solve the murder. I couldn’t save others. I left a murderer loose. I should have noticed something wrong. The shift in the atmosphere. The shiver crawled up my spine, as if a pair of eyes were watching me. The soft crunch of steps in the grass. And yet, I just sat there, too focused on the case to notice. Maybe I should have handed the case to someone else. Maybe I should have tried to piece together the clues within a crowd. Maybe I deserved it. I’m sorry to the family, who will never know what has happened. I’m sorry to the people, who will never know who the murderer had been. I’m sorry to Benny’s future victims. But I don’t feel sorry for Benny. I felt anger. Rage. Desperation to reveal the truth.

So I will wait patiently above, for the future to catch up with the past.