Mr. Knight

I didn't mean to kill her. I didn't want to kill her. She just happened to be in my way at the wrong time. I sighed, turning my Xbox off. Usually I would be at softball practice, but it was storming today so Coach cancelled.

The house was eerily quiet, the only sound coming from the creaking steps I was going down.  There was a note on the fridge from Mom, telling me she would be out again and that I could order pizza for dinner. Another night, just me and myself in this empty house.

I grabbed a banana and tossed the peel into the overly full trash. I groaned and tried to push the trash down, but it wouldn't budge. I yanked the trash bag from the trashcan and angrily took it out back to throw in our garbage bin.

At first I didn't hear anything, just the rain and my slippers scraping against the pavement. But as I got closer to my neighbors house, I could hear someones muffled screaming. I sat the trash down and tiptoed to the window, peering through the curtains.

I could see a man standing in front of a young woman, her mouth covered and body tied to a chair. My eyes widened, and my body started to tremble in fear.

Mr. Knight was a good man. He would never do something like this. There had to be an explanation. Maybe he was into messed up role play.

I was starting to believe it was fake, when all of a sudden he took out a knife from his pocket and slit the woman's throat, blood squirting his pristine white carpet and furniture. I gasped, dropping the trash with a loud thud. Mr. Knight turned towards the window, looking straight at me. I kept telling myself to run, to do something, but my legs felt like they were a thousand pounds each.

He walked closer, and that's when I finally bolted.

I lived in a small town in South Carolina. We had only one traffic light and a grocery store twenty minutes away. Luckily, the police station was only a few streets over.

I remember my first home run. I was the only sixth grader on the softball team at my school, and I wasn't very good at the time. The game had just started and I was first batter up. I went up to the base with little to no confidence, and got into my stance. I had one strike and two fouls, so it didn't really look like I was going anywhere. The pitcher pitched a perfect ball, and I hit it as hard as I could. It went over the gate and into the fire departments lot. My team screamed, and I ran as fast as I could, even though it was a home run by default.

I ran faster this time, though, because my life depended on it. My lungs felt like they were turning to ice. My entire body was soaked, and my slippers were long gone. Rocks and glass pierced through my feet, but I didn't care. I had to keep going.

The police station entrance was a few feet in front of me, and I sprinted through the doors, hitting the front desk and making a coffee cup fall over onto the floor.

Everyone in there stared at me, confused. The only thing I could hear was the coffee spilling on the floor and my ragged breathing.

"Ma'am, is everything alright?" A man asked me, but I never got the chance to answer him, because everything went black.

I woke up to loud beeping and shining lights. My eyes slowly opened, and I scanned the room. What in the hell happened?

I tore the covers off of my legs, relieved to see they were still intact.

There was a police officer at the edge of my door, looking down the hallway.

"Excuse me, sir?" My voice was hoarse, and it hurt to talk. The police officer whipped around, then talked into his radio.

The room was soon filled with police officers, surrounding my bed. "Ma'am do you remember what happened?" An officer asked, taking out her notepad.

I thought back, trying to figure out how I had gotten myself into this situation. "I remember playing video games, then walking downstairs...and then I took out the trash..." That's when I remembered. I gasped, sitting up. "MR.KNIGHT!"

The officers were startled by my outburst, their hands hovering over their tasers. "What happened to Mr. Knight?" The woman asked, looking up from her writing.

"I saw him kill a woman!" Their eyes widened. "I was taking out the trash and heard a woman screaming-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," the woman said. "Slow down. I know this can be traumatic for you, but it's best we have all the information you can give us. Can you start from the very beginning?"

I took a deep breath, then told them everything. After I gave them the address, a few officers left to go raid the home.

"What's your name, sweetie? Is there anyone we can call?"

"My name is Miranda Foley. My mom is at work, so I'm not sure if she'll answer." I replied, but I told them her number anyway. The detective wrote it down and stepped outside.

Several minutes passed, and then a woman with a kind smile and short brown hair stepped in.

"Hi, Miranda. I'm Doctor Patrizowski, I'm the pediatric psychiatrist. Can you tell me what happened?" I told the story for the umpteenth time, watching her come and go as all the others.

When the door opened again, I knew something was wrong. A few police officers came in with angry expressions, and they crossed their arms and leaned against the wall.

"Why did you lie to us, Miranda?" One of them asked.

"What? What do you mean lie?"

"We went to Mr. Knight's house, and there was absolutely no sign of a murder. We have taken Mr. Knight in to question him, but his alibi is as strong as steel." The cop said, scratching his mustache.

"What?! I saw it happen!" The cops looked at each other and raised their eyebrows. "I'm not crazy!" I yelled.

They sighed and sat across from my bed. “Do you know of any medical history on either side of your family?”

“I told you, I’m not crazy! I saw him slit the woman’s throat. I saw her blood stain his white furniture. I saw, officer.” I could feel my eyes start to water and blinked back the tears. Had I seen it? Was it just some twisted dream? 

A knock at the door startled me, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. “The detectives have searched every square inch of his house. There’s no sign of anything.” 

The officers got up and started to leave. “Wait!” I yelled. They slowly turned around. “That’s not possible! You can’t just give up! I saw him. I-”

“Miss Foley, you do know that you can be tried as an adult for falsifying the murder of someone. Do you know how much time you would be doing? Five years. If anything, you’re lucky.” With that, the officers left, closing my door.

I don’t know when I fell asleep, but when I woke up my room was bathed in darkness. I rolled over towards the window, watching the cars drive pass. 

About five minutes later, the door opened and some light showered into the room. The nurse stood at my bedside, watching me. 

I turned over, squinting to try and see which nurse it was. But it wasn’t a nurse. It was Mr. Knight.