It Wasn’t Me

It Wasn’t Me

                                    Samara Patel

Technically I did kill him, despite what I said to the police earlier that day. I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill him. I’m innocent, I’m innocent, please… The words had swirled in my head, becoming my mantra for the day. It hadn’t fooled the police who took me away, but it should be enough to get me through the interrogation. It has to be. I can’t go to jail. Not that the stupid sheriff cared. If anything, Sheriff Jorkins looked delighted to have such an exciting case. His round, pig-like face scrunched up as he escorted me into the police station with a gesture of what might be hospitality under different circumstances. Although I was glad to get out of the thunderstorm outside, the station wasn’t much better. I twirled slowly, taking in my surroundings, memorizing them. The room we walked into was small and dark, with shadows encasing the corners. A flickering lightbulb occasionally illuminated the stuffed moose head on the wall above the receptionist desk, from which the receptionist was missing. Peeling bits of paint gathered on the concrete floor in the hallway. All of this gave Longwood Police Station the impression of a shack made with bricks. One huff and puff, and I could blow it all down. If only my problems could go away so easily.

    He led me to a room in the back, which had a short wooden table and not much else. The sheriff’s large stomach bumped into it as he sat down with a groan. My eyes flicked over this action and filed the fact away. “Be calm, Arielle. We just want to ask you a few questions.” My hands shook slightly, and I sat on them quickly before he saw. They hadn’t bothered putting handcuffs on me, probably thinking I wasn’t a threat. “Now, I just want to review some details for the record. Is that alright with you?” I nodded nervously, my tongue sticking in my throat. “Name: Arielle Orion. Age 17. Suspect in the murder of Ron Swindon, her friend and colleague. Suspected motive: revenge for the death of her sister Rya.” My palms sweat. Words swam through my head like fish trapped in a bowl. The day flashed through my head. There was a storm that day. A storm just like today…

“Isn’t the rain pretty, Ron?” Ree asked gleefully, twirling around in a puddle, the mud splashing her shoes. He barely glanced up at her from his park bench, saying nothing. She stopped and looked at him. “Ron? The rain?”

He took a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s neat.” She looked at him sideways, then sat down next to him on the bench. In the three years they had been dating, he had never once been so quiet. “Ron-”

“Rya, we need to break up.” He looked at her for the first time in what felt like years. “There’s been someone else...someone else for a while now. And it’s nothing about you, you have to know that. It’s just- it’s me. I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.” He studied her face for a response that her words weren’t giving. Finding nothing, he sighed. And then he got up and walked away.

     I know this because Ree told me in the kitchen that night, tears streaming down her face. A week after that, she took her own life. A month later, I took his, with a knife from his own kitchen. I hadn’t meant to do it. We were arguing and I got mad and he admitted he had been cheating on her and he never cared about her and I took a knife and I killed him a killed him I killed him I- 

“Ms. Orion? Are you still with me here?” My breath came out heavy. In out in out in out. I didn’t kill him. But he deserved it. Besides, they had to believe me. I was a model student in class, the perfect worker, the perfect girlfriend, the perfect- oh hell. “Um sir, well, I-“ My words dried up. Good. They haven’t served me well before and won’t help me now. I took a single breath in before I ran out the door. “Hey!” Sheriff Jorkins cried. He tried to run after me but quickly hit the ground like I knew he would. I turned the corner, then the next. This place was like a maze, and I was running out of time. Peeled paint. Flickering bulb. Door- I passed reception and snagged a keychain off the desk, hoping, praying it would be the right one. The other officers were starting to take notice of me, trying to run after me. I punched and kicked and slapped at anyone who dared to try me, a living death machine. Too much, this is too much, I have to get out of here. I have to breathe, too much too much too much- BOOM. I crashed through the door with energy I didn’t know I had. Adrenaline was racing through my veins like those stupid cars that my sister loved so much. The sky was dark and ominous, save for a single beam of moonlight that hit the beat-up vehicle they called a cop car. Right now, it might as well have been a pumpkin carriage. I clambered inside, barely restraining my excitement. I shoved the keys into the slot. Come on, come on, come on! Suddenly, it sputtered to life, coughing up fuel and dust as I slammed onto the gas. Barely holding back a yelp, I took off toward the only place I knew would be safe: home.

The car flew me through the streets as adrenaline coursed through my body, blocking out the fear. For thirteen minutes, I was reduced to nothing but the most vital thoughts. Car coming- turn left. Blinker on. Red Toyota’s been following you: lose him. Turn right here. Don’t think about the way the blood pooled on his color and stained your hands and you had to scrub them for hours and hours and hours and hours and-

My getaway car screeched to a stop outside my house. I took a moment, a single deep breath, before calmly stepping out of the car. I took measured steps, having seen enough NCIS to know that demeanor was everything when it came to crime. If I acted innocent, I was. I took the key out from under the mat and twisted it into the lock. My mother was waiting for me in the living room.

“What happened honey? I’ve been waiting all day. They said it would take hours… why are you home so soon?”

Her words were gentle, but my heart raced nonetheless. A million lies flew through my head. “I don’t know, Ma. They said that I wasn’t a suspect. Actually they…” I hesitated, for just a second. “They said the killer might come after us because we were connected to the death, so we have to go. Quickly. Maybe even leave the country.” A plan formed in my head. I crossed the small room quickly and opened the pantry, frantically pulling out food. If we were going on the run, my face would be on the news. We couldn’t risk going to the store, not right away. That meant non perishables, water bottles, sandwich bread- 

“Stop, Arielle, what are you… Arielle, STOP!” She grabbed my arm, but I couldn’t stop. We had to get out of here, quick, they would look for us, quick, quick, quick. She spun me around to face her and took my hands in hers, squeezing tight enough to hurt. “Look, I didn’t want to ask you this, but the way you’re acting is… incredibly troubling.” She searched my eyes for a moment before springing the question: “Arielle Orion, did you kill Ron?” 

Her voice was harsh, but mine was thin and small.

“No, Ma. It wasn’t me.”