Going Nowhere Fast

23. Circles

I wondered how long it would take them to realize the blood that was on my body didn't belong to Stevie and probably belonged to a chicken or something.

The police were so stupid. They told me that I was under suspicion of murder now. I tried to tell them the truth then and there but they told me to save it until they were ready to take down my full statement.

It seemed kind of dumb to me because what if I changed my mind by then and didn't want to tell them the truth anymore? Yeah, cops were dumb.

They told me at first that I would be allowed visitors, but after the murder thing they said I couldn't talk to anyone. I wondered what kind of lies they would spread about me next. Maybe they'll say I don't recycle or that I hurt puppies or something even more horrendous than being a rapist or murderer.

Maybe once I was freed, I could go on some kind of talk show and publicly clear my name? That seemed to be a comforting thought. I laughed at the thought of someone wanting me on their show.

After that fucking frat dude on the train recognized me, the train made an emergency stop where I was immediately arrested and flown back into the states on a police helicopter. That was kind of cool. Kind of.

I had been thrown into the jail cell at the county sheriff's station. The magnitude of my case grew with the murder thing and the whole international aspect of it seemed to call for a higher level of authority. I wouldn't even have been surprised if the FBI were the ones who came to interrogate me the next day.

It hurt a little bit that my mom didn't want to come visit me. I got that whole one phone call thing and I called my house. My aunt answered, told me to "go to hell", and hung up. Yeah, that wasn't the best.

I really didn't know what was going to happen to me. I knew it was clear that Stevie's death was a stupid form of suicide but my involvement was obvious and suspicious. I knew that.

I fantasized about going back to school at this point and what it would be like. I wondered if kids would fear me or if parents would complain that I shouldn't be allowed there. I realized I had to tell my story. I had no other option. The only way for society to not hate me after this was if they knew the whole truth. Everything.

I looked around at the cell I was in. three of the walls were made of cinder blocks and the front wall was the classic bar door thing. I had a plank of wood with a thin mattress and a toilet and sink in the corner.

The reality of the situation hit me. I was in jail. I was never going to be able to live a quiet life like I always wanted. Everyone would always know who I was, and I didn't like that.

I started to develop this empty feeling in my gut that came along with a deep feeling of sadness.

My life was over.

People who didn't know the truth would fear me always. Those who did know the truth would pity me, always. I didn't want to be feared or pitied. I just wanted a normal life with normal friends.

I dawned on me that my life had always been like that. Everyone at school didn't talk to me because they were afraid of how weird I was or the felt bad about how lonely I was. I started to feel pathetic.

I tried to take deep breathes and think about Scarlet, and how she was in my life and how she cared for me.

Then it hit me like a truck, she both feared and pitied me. That's probably the only reason she ever cared about me in the first place.

I tried to tell myself that it was just my depression putting these thoughts in my head. It just felt too real though. She feared me because of how unpredictable I was with my self-harming. She pitied me for the same reason. Her liking me could've easily have been an excuse for me to not hurt myself so that she wouldn't feel like the one responsible for it.