What if an Actor Murdered His Mom—and Got Away with It?

-       “By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. How many times do you want me to repeat that?”

-       “But one of the neighbors believes that they saw you running away before the fire was out. Do you have anything to tell us about that?”

-       “They must’ve been mistaken, officer. I was running away to ask for help because the fire was too close to the porch, and my mom was lying on the floor unconscious.”

-       “That sounds like an interesting coincidence, isn't it? anyway, let me ask you this... have you ever tried to put a fire out?"

-       “What do you mean? Like a normal fire? Sure, I have.”

-       “So, didn’t you try to put water on the leaves before running away? Or at least, try to take your unconscious mom out of the house? According to your neighbors, it wasn’t a huge fire at the beginning.”

-       “oh, really? So, why didn’t they try to stop it? Huh? It was a scary fire, and I panicked, sir. I’m only 17. It was the first time my mom got like that, and I'm not a firefighter or a doctor, sir. All I knew was that we needed help.”

-       “Look, I don’t think you need me to remind you of this. But your mom died in this incident... So, why don’t you try to be more helpful, son?”

But that’s too amateurish. Who would bring up an ad-lib right where the suspect is about to get exposed? The officer looked convincing, though. He had his hands on the table all the time, locking his fingers in as if he’s protecting his beliefs against me. But Blocking is not enough when the arena is full of excited audiences.

I mean, the other cops were obviously waiting for a cue to call me a murderer. So, it was not quite polite of the officer to forget about his driving question, “how can I make this kid let the cats out of the bag?”

-       “So… Do you have anything to say about your loss? Does that make you feel bad about yourself? I mean, do you wish you stayed there and tried to save your mom?”

Uh… that was the worst line to bring up an emotional recall. Stupidly enough, he even changed his position to seem a bit friendly. He actually unlocked his fingers and took a sip of his cold coffee. (I think it was a part of his planned endowment. But I’m not sure).

“what you think, officer?” I replied to his stupid question, changing my position, too, to let him know he’s losing this fight. (I leaned back and crossed my legs—just like a chess player who’s sure that his last move will bring in the victory).

-       “I think you can be much more helpful, son. But I get it. You want to play smart. And it’s fine. Just don’t forget that no one is going to have your back when you need it.”

-       “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir. But thanks for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”

I should admit that the smile on my face when uttering the last line was an impulse. But it suited the scene and the setting, anyway. It was obvious that the officer is having an Inner monologue while looking into my eyes. And based on his body language, I’m pretty sure he said something like, “I’ll get your ass busted you, little bastard.”

By the time his inner monologue was finished, he was ready to leave. I pretended that there’s something more interesting about my shoes than his exit. So, he just waited there for a couple of seconds to force eye contact—and then left as a failure.

I was sure that the arena is still full of other cops who’re watching me through that dark window. So, why wouldn’t I use the chance to work on my pantomime skill?

The setting was ready for me to play the innocent. So, that was the Motivation. And the only Props I had were a pen and some papers that the officer left for me.

I was extremely happy that I finally had the chance to try the “Private Moment” technique. As Mr. Dwane, my acting mentor, always used to say, “you only become an actor when you know how to act privately in public.”

First, I tried to seem thoughtful. So, I stared at my shoe—the one that was closer when my legs were crossed. Then I tried to clean something imaginary off my sock as if I have nothing else to do. These were the first triggers.

When the imaginary thing was off my sock, I started looking around—almost like someone who’s lost something and doesn’t even remember what it was. The best method to do that is to start looking at the upper end of the walls. That’s also the first stupid thing real state buyers do when they first enter a house.

Then I started observing the objects in the room, trying to watch everything as if it’s my first time noticing they were there. My plan was to make the pen and papers my eye line and stop the observation as soon as I see them.

I knew that the audience was waiting for me to do that. So, I gave them what they wanted. I grabbed the pen, adjusted the paper with my other hand, and “tried” to write. I kept the pen as close to the paper as possible and stared at the desk. That’s what you do to force your brain to write down something.

But right when the audience thought I’m about to write, I threw the pen down and leaned back again—this time like a disappointed businessman who just lost a $100 bet on horse racing.

Of course, I did not forget that I lost my mom a couple of hours ago, but the officer’s reminder was still helpful. So, to show my gratitude, I put my hands on my face for a couple of seconds and then started rubbing my forehead as if I just got rid of a dunce cap.

That was it. As I planned, the audience lost their hope to see more actions, and they sent the officer back in. This time, he didn’t even try to act—nor did he looked for eye contact. He just grabbed the cup of coffee that he had left behind and said, “you can leave, kid.” That was before he escaped the room, leaving the door open for me—to escape as well.

As I was walking out of the police station, all I felt was ‘joy.’ I knew that I killed my mom—and I was sorry about that. But I had to do it.

I’m sure Stella would be proud of me. She’s my idol. She’s the only one who’d get it, too.

I can’t stop thinking about her quote:

“Actors need a kind of aggression, a kind of inner force. Don't be only one-sided, sweet, nice, good. Get rid of being average. Find the killer in you.”