I Didn't Do It

“Listen, you need to leave.” My brother urged, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t want you here. You are not the same and you scare me.” Shock widened my eyes, as he handed me my suitcase.  

“I didn’t do it Brian!” I shouted, glaring into his copper eyes. “She framed me. I would never kill John.” He nervously tugged at his green sweater, looking into the distance. Dirt crunched underneath his brown slippers. A frown darkened his face as he closed the door behind me. My brown boots clicked on the sidewalk as red and blue flash down the street. My silk black skirt flew up all around me as a cloth touched my painted lips. Familiar heels clacked behind me while sleepiness weighed heavily on my eyelids. Darkness came over me surrounding me in darkness.  

A single bright light blinded my copper eyes, making my head throb angrily. My black blouse hugged my hourglass figure. My long wavy hair was now a nest. Mascara ran down my cheeks, tears blurring my vision. Ropes burned my wrists as I struggled to get out of them. It was now my groggy heart jerked awake. Must escape ran through my mind as I pulled my phone out of my pocket. A lump formed in my throat as it clattered to the floor.  

“I will be taking that back.” Heather announced, smashing it with a rusty hammer. “We can’t have you calling for help. You are going to pay for what I did. Johnny and I were having an affair, so you went mad.” If looks could kill, my eyes would have killed the pink scantily clad woman. Her blonde bob bounced cheerfully, running her hands along my cheekbones.

“Go to hell!” I spat, trying to figure a way out. “It is not my fault he loved me, not you.” A loud clap rang out, her hand smacking my face. A sneer curled at the corner of her glossy pink lips. Scoffing, she pulled a pen and piece of paper.  

“You are going to be a good girl and write a suicide note explaining why you did it.” She growled through gritted teeth. “Just behave, so I can get away with it.” That was the way out. Grumbling, her fingers loosened the rope. With a thud the rope fell to the floor. Not even pausing, my feet sprinted out of the shed I was in. Blue moonlight bathed the empty streets, making it creepy. A hammer whizzed by my head, nicking the top of my ear. My muscles burned as my feet raced down the street to the nearest house. My fist banged heavily on the strong oak door.  

“Can I help you?” A gruff voice inquired, sounding all too familiar. My heart sank to my stomach, a large lump forming in my throat. John stood in front of me, still very alive and well. Dark energy oozed from his every pore. A sick twisted evil grin danced across his face, chilling me to my bones. No joy was felt from my mind, trying to piece it all together.  

“You are- but how?” I stammered, stepping back. “You were dead. You were fucking pronounced dead. We buried you.” A childish giggle echoed behind me, cold metal pressing into my back. A flash of pink held me by my wrist, breathing hotly down my neck. My lungs yearn for air as panic increases my breathing. Glittering glances passed between the two of them.

“Did you think I actually liked you?” He laughed, crossing his arms. “I wanted to disappear because I am not even John. I am a twenty year old serial killer with my wife Heather. We get turned on by killing people. It is the greatest story ever. Every town I go to, I die and we blame the girlfriend for my “death”. She then commits suicide from all of the pressure. It is all fun and games.” Blood dripped down my palm for my fingernails dug into the dry skin. Fury throbbed in my veins. Nothing was worse than being used for a couple’s sexual pleasure. There are far better things to get ready for your evening activities.

“Just let me go, and I won’t tell.” I pleaded desperately, still stunned. “I promise.” Tears welled up in my eyes, praying not to look weaker than I already did. Shaking his head, he yanked me in and handcuffed my left hand to the railing. Horror froze my body at the sight of the freshly dead bodies of Mr. and Mrs. Yancy. Red blood pooled beneath them, nauseating my stomach. Hot vomit erupted from my lips onto the floor. The smell of rotting flesh floated beneath the floorboard. How many people did he kill?  

“I am afraid we are going to have to add to the list of names to your special letter.” He taunted, noting my pale face. “You had better listen to me, or we will kill you right now. You are our way out.” Gulping, my head shook slowly, watching for his next step. A black cellphone hung out of his pocket. I needed that to get to someone.

“I have one better.” I suggested, looking into his dark eyes earnestly. “What if I called people instead? It is more concrete than a letter.” He ran his gloved hand through his long tan hair, contemplating my offer. In reality it was perfect evidence to free them. Sighing, he started to hand me his phone. Giddiness lightened my heart as his hand got closer and closer. It sank the moment he pulled it away. 

“Only if you make it sound like it was your fault.” He threatened, pulling out a black revolver. “I will shoot you if it all goes wrong.” Not sure how much that was going to help if I was dead, I nodded simply. A warm smile softened my face, relaxing his tense muscles. His phone felt heavy in my trembling palm. Calmly as one could, I dialed my brother’s number. A ring rang and rang until I got a tired hello. Relief washed over my body as tears flowed down my bruised cheek.  

“Hey, I did it all. I can’t live anymore.” I sobbed, barely controlled. “Everyone is dead because of me. Remember the time you dropped the pizza and we both laughed.” A loud click silenced his end, leaving sitting their hoping he remembered our code. Pain shot through my leg as a bullet launched itself. He had a silencer on his gun. Chuckling between the two of them, he shot Heather. Her body collapsed into a pile at my feet. Shock widened my eyes, watching him steal her wallet.

“She was dead weight.” He commented seriously “Get it, dead weight. I am so hilarious.” Laughing softly, my eyes just stared at him waiting for what was going to happen next. My body quaked with fear, praying that I won’t die today. The cold metal nozzle pressed against the side of my head.  

The front door burst open to reveal my older brother Brian in his plaid pajama pants, and blue t-shirt. John lunged at him, knocking into the wall. He groaned, struggling to stand on his feet. A loud crack echoed around us, Brian busting John’s nose. Thin red blood flooded from his nose onto the floor.  

“How dare you hurt my sister?” Brian shouted, aiming for his bloody face. “I knew you were a psychopath.” John’s fist crashed against his copper eye, leaving behind a purple shiner. The metal nozzle pressed against his head. Short angry waves sat him down next to me. Anxiously, he ran his slender fingers through his short dark hair.  

“You guys are annoying.” He exclaimed, waving his gun in the air. “I guess we are adding your brother to the list.” Brian and I held hands, waiting for the end of it all. The gun hovered in front of his face as red and blue lights flashed out on the street. Twenty police officers burst in, knocking John to the ground. A bullet smashing into the nearby wall. A female officer with a tight brunette bun offered my brother her hand while a black haired officer freed me from the staircase. His green eyes glittered excitedly in my direction as he checked me over for wounds other than my leg. A shot of pain shot through my leg whilst the adrenaline wore off. Surprise widened my eyes at the pool of blood beneath my leg. EMTs raced in and whisked us to the ER. Radio’s buzzed around me as they worked on my leg. What seemed like an eternity later, my brother sat next to me in white sterile hospital room. Snores rumbled from his nose, a knock alerting me. Time stopped as the cop from earlier walked in sheepishly. He was wearing a simple green shirt and a pair of jeans.  

“I uh, just needed to see if you are alright.” He stammered, rubbing the back of his head. “Thank you for your help in finding William Wolf for us. He is sitting in maximum prison with no chance of parole. You okay?” My face flushed bright red as he walked over to my bed.  

“I just survived.” I protested, looking over at my brother. “He did the work.” Rubbing his forehead, a wide grin illuminated his boyish face. Crossing my arms, I leaned back onto the thin hospital pillow.  

“You would dead, if you didn’t call your brother.” He exclaimed, holding my hand. “When you are ready, let’s go get donuts and coffee.” Chuckling to myself, my gaze met his. His face flushed bright red. For a cop, he was awfully shy.  

“Sure.” I replied, watching him leave the room. Yawning, my eyes felt heavy with sleep. Sweet slumber welcomed me into her loving arms.