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The Silent Truth

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The Silent Truth

            “It’s always the quiet ones.” That’s what I hear from everyone. The teachers, the students, and even the parents believe that. I sigh as I write this just at the mention of that small stereotype given to people like Brandon, like Edgar….like me.

    It’s just a small phrase. It didn’t have a great depth of meaning. It was just something people always said about us, because we were different, mysterious even. And frankly, I would agree with the last bit. But with what they think now, after what Edgar did to Alice, and what Brandon supposedly did to Karen, they all look at me differently. They all think I’m like them. A killer, a murderer, a quiet one. They don’t say a word to me. No one does but the teachers, but only then it’s when they’re calling for attendance or when asking me to answer a question in front of the class. But now even that last bit is no longer true. The teachers are scared of me, scared of what I am, what I might become. And I’m sick of it.

    Yes, I like to be left alone. Yes, I enjoy being a quiet one. And yes, I was friends with both Brandon and Edgar. But am I a murderer? No, nor will I ever be. No matter how tempting it may be, I’m never going to fulfill their expectations for people like me. I’m going to show them something. I’m going to show them the cold, silent truth about us.

    And I’ll start with you.

    ***

    I quietly sat in my usual seat as the teacher continued his lecture. I was in the back of the room, in the corner. Just far enough away from the teacher to avoid being called on for something but not too far from the door, so I could leave class immediately once it was over. I didn’t want to get caught in the middle of a group of students when the time came to leave. I’d learned ever since the deaths of both Alice and Karen that I’d just make myself easy prey for the vengeful if I did. Because, killer or not, I still reminded them of both Edgar and Brandon and that was enough of a reason for them to want to gang up on me whenever they had a chance.

    I tapped my foot impatiently and glanced at the clock in the corner. I wanted class to be done for the day. “Can’t wait to go stick someone with a knife?” I heard a girl snicker at me. I stopped my tapping but didn’t say a word. Words never really mattered for me. “What’s the matter pal? Cat got your tongue?” I heard the girl taunt me again. “Oh wait, that’s right! I almost forgot, you’re a quiet one. You can’t talk!” I heard a few giggles come from the girl’s friends sitting next to her.

    “No, I’m not going to go stick someone.” I quietly responded, “But I am considering cutting out and burning that person’s tongue for annoying me.” I slowly turned my head to stare at the girl, “Since that girl’s a liar and cheater to both her best friend and boyfriend.”

    The snickering from the girl’s two friends stopped as they gave me a puzzled look. The girl who taunted me however, eyes widen. “What?” She whispered.

    Before more could be said the class bell rang. I turned and got up, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

    “What did you say?” I heard her ask once more.

    Without turning I answered, “Silent truth.” I walked out of class leaving the girl sitting in her desk in both awe and shock as her friends began to ask her what was wrong.

    I knew exactly what was wrong, someone other than her knew her dirty little secret. And I think you can guess who.

    I smiled smugly as I walked to the cafeteria. Because you see, truth is the reason I’m quiet. Because it’s only when you’re quiet, you can hear the silent truths. When you’re quiet, people have a tendency to say more and reveal more about themselves than they should. They reveal sins, secrets they don’t want known. And it amazes me how stupid people can be when they say these things out loud, especially in front of me. But they think, “What does it matter?  He’s quiet, isn’t he? He can’t be listening? And if he is, who’s he gonna tell if he doesn’t talk?” Those are the assumptions people make about me. And as with that girl I dealt with just discovered, they’re not true.

    My smile melted. But if there was one truth I wanted to know more than anything at the time, it was about Karen. Who really killed her? Though we were never really friends, I’d known Brandon practically all my life. He was like me. Quiet and refrained although for different reasons. I knew he was a tad antisocial and had a thing for Karen, but not so much that he’d kill her for turning him down. It wasn’t like him. He was too afraid to do anything like that. But that didn’t seem to make a difference to the rest of the school. They all pointed at him within a heartbeat.

    I reached the doors of the cafeteria. I hesitated and decided to peek through the door’s window. I could see tons of students getting their lunches before sitting down to eat and chat with their chosen cliques. I shook my head in disgust. I never liked cliques.

    I looked at the line and saw a few jocks waiting to get their lunches.

    “Ah…crap.” I murmured. Those guys more than anything wouldn’t waste a second to try and put me down. Alice and Karen had been known to associate with a lot of jocks so they all’d been very angry once they discovered that people like me had killed them. I took a step back from the door. I could skip lunch this time.

    I turned around to leave only to stop, yet again. Another student stood directly in front of me. She was about my height, 5’9’, had wavy auburn hair that just touched her shoulders. She was also my age, seventeen. But most of all, she was the complete opposite of me. One of the social kids who was a role model for most of students since she always seemed to “Do the right thing” in school. She never got in trouble and almost always seemed to fit in with everyone. And what’s worse, she was a close friend to Alice. She hated Edgar and people like him. So in other words: she was no different than the jocks I was trying to avoid. She’d want to put me down too.

    I’d been lucky to avoid her thus far, until now anyway. I braced myself for a verbal onslaught of taunts for being like Edgar or Brandon, but to my surprise she just quietly stood there. Staring at me. Piercing me with those icy blue eyes. “Hi, David.” Emma greeted me.

    I blinked in surprise. I’d expected to hear an insult. Not knowing what to make of it I simply nodded in response.

    “You eating lunch?” She asked, again surprising me. No one talked to me like this unless it was about me being a psycho.

    I shook my head, still not saying anything. I looked past her to see if there wasn’t some sort of elaborate ambush of her friends waiting to get me the moment I decided to push past her, but there was no one. Strange… I could have sworn she always carried along with her at least one groupie.

    “Why?” she cocked her head at me.

    Like I’d want to tell her that? I shrugged and brushed past her in the direction of the library. I could hang out in there until the lunch period was over. That, and I didn’t want to be anywhere near Emma. Because for some reason I couldn’t explain, she always unnerved me and now her sudden wanting to speak with me in a causal, nice manner only increased my discomfort.

    “What did you say to Rena?” She asked suddenly. I stopped in my tracks and look over my shoulder back at her. She was staring at me and I could see in her eyes that she was studying me. Intently.

    I shrugged, “Why’s it matter?”

    “Because according to her friends you frightened her and made her go reeaaally quiet.” She said crossing her arms.

    Huh, so that’s what this is all about. That’s why she’s being so nice, “I frighten a lot of people, apparently. Even without needing to speak.”

    “But you don’t often frighten someone so much that they don’t want to talk about it.” She said with a certain smoothness.

    I shrugged, “Well, if she doesn’t want to talk about it, that’s her business. Not mine.”

    She narrowed her eyes, “Not unless of course you threatened her.”

    I couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. Was she really going to try and pull that one on me? I rolled my eyes before answering, “Fine. I told her if she didn’t leave me alone I’d tell the truth.”

    “The truth?” She tilted her chin up. Curiosity was written across her face, “What truth?”

    “About her.”

    “And what is that?”

    “Her own business.” I said with a blank face. “And if she doesn’t want to tell you, she doesn’t want to tell you.” I resumed walking to the library.

    “Hmph, and I suppose you know all about that that because you stalk her?” She let the accusation fly.

    I stopped again releasing a small exhale through my nose before turning back, “No, I don’t stalk her. In fact, I don’t stalk anybody. I just know a lot of things from listening. Especially when they gloat about things they shouldn’t’ve done. They don’t always realize the guy sitting next to them is hearing every single word.”

    I expected that to send her into a rage and make me have to get ready for a mauling, but instead she, like her friend Rena, went into a silence. And for just a brief, brief moment, I actually saw who she was. It was in her eyes really. The usual bright, sunny eyes that seemed to attract so many groupies vanished, revealing what truly lied hidden beneath. A dark, pleasurable look. A look I’ve seen people have in their eyes once they’ve done something very wrong and enjoyed it. Like when Edgar killed Alice. There been an unusual, bright yet dark glaze to them accompanied with a dark smile. Now these same exact eyes were studying me and in them was a dangerous suspicion.

    The sudden change shocked me enough to take a step back in surprise. Her outgoing, goodie-two shoe visage, I realized was just that: a visage. A mask.

    “Do you watch and listen to me too?” There was something dark mixed in with her tone, when she asked that. I didn’t know what it was, but I sure as hell didn’t like it.

    I was silent, rooted to the spot as I processed what I saw. People only wear masks like that when they know things they shouldn’t. I realized, So could she…could she know who killed Karen?

    “Well?” she asked snapping my attention back to her.

    I chose my words carefully, “Yeah, I do. I even watched Edgar and Brandon before they ended up on death row.” I said then after a brief pause, decided to test something, “And if you want an example, I know for a fact that Brandon didn’t kill Karen. Someone else did.”

    Emma’s head moved back an inch, it was a slight movement, a natural movement maybe, but it told me everything. Before Emma could respond I spun around and fast-walked my way to the library.

    My mind reeled with each step as realization sank in. That the person who’d killed Karen wasn’t a quiet one at all but the exact opposite of one… Could it be Emma?

***

            For the rest of the day, I tried my best to avoid Emma. Something that proved to be very difficult since she was in my next two classes after lunch. So when I got to math class and went to sit in my isolated corner, like I usually did, Emma broke tradition and chose to sit right next to me.

Crap… This wasn’t good.

    “Oh, I hope you don’t mind me sitting here,” she said as she set her books down, “I just wanted a change in seating.” She gave me a smile that was nothing short of mischievous just as the rest of the seats filled up with students. I couldn’t help but fidget in my seat when a lot of students began to cast strange looks in my direction. They were no doubt wondering why one of the most sociable and nicest people in the whole school would be sitting next to one of the “quiet ones”.

    “Why’s Emma sitting next to him?” I heard one student whisper. “Is she trying to get herself killed?” Asked another. “Doesn’t she remember what happened to Karen after talking to one of them?” A third asked to her friend.

    Them,” the word bit at me. It’s always “them”, they think. I couldn’t help but laugh under my breath at the irony. The quiet one, the one most likely to kill someone but didn’t, sitting next to the sociable one, which no one would ever dream would kill anyone, but most likely did or at least knew who did. If only they knew…

    As the math teacher droned on with his lecture I tried my best to take notes, (Yes, despite everyone’s belief about me, I do care about my grades) while Emma’s eyes bored into me. I would write something down and then toss an occasional glance over her way always to see her blue eyes, which to me now seemed dark more than anything, staring at me. And with each time, I had to suppress a shiver.

    “What did you mean earlier?” She said suddenly out of the blue. I paused in my note taking before replying, “About…what?”

    “You said you knew that Brandon didn’t kill Karen. What did you mean by that? The knife was found in his locker.”

    I’d already come to the conclusion by now that either Emma had killed Karen or she knew who did and wasn’t telling anyone. So I needed to be careful how I answered. “I meant that I knew Brandon well enough to know he’d never do anything like that. He was too afraid to do something like that. And these rumors about him asking her out and being turned down aren’t true.”

    “How do you know that?”

    DangerDanger… My instincts screamed to me, “Because, one: No one ever saw him do that. And two: Everyday school ended he’d take his bike straight home while Karen would ride with you guys on the bus. So when did he ever have the time to ask her out? It’s simple, he didn’t.”

    I hoped I’d given her a good enough explanation so that she wouldn’t think I knew exactly who did it, even though to be honest I didn’t, but I wanted it to make it seem like I might know, to see if she might reveal something.

“I see,” she murmured, “What about the knife then? How could it have gotten into his locker?”

    “Um….” Okay that I part I didn’t know. I could only assume someone had watched him open it enough times to know the combination. Which is unlikely, so I chose to skip over the question and say, “Someone put it in there to make it look like he did it, and I’m assuming it had to be the day they found it, because he was just as surprised as everyone else when they pulled it out.”

    Emma nodded her head in thought before looking back at the Smartboard as the teacher gave some equations for us to solve.

    “So who then?” She asked after a minute.

    Ugh…that was the big question wasn’t it? Who did it? How I could I answer that?

    I took a long pause before replying, “Someone who wanted get back at Karen for something. My guess, revenge.”

    At the word revenge, Emma straightened in her seat and her head slowly turned to look at me. “Revenge?” she repeated softly.

    I nodded.

    “Revenge for… what?” Her eyes narrowed onto my own.

    I didn’t dare answer. Instead, I pulled out my work and began doing the equations for class. “I’m done talking.” Was all said in return.

    For the rest of the class period, Emma continued to stare at me intently, measuring me, trying to figure out if I knew anything. But if there’s one thing all of us quiet ones do have on our side, it’s that we’re pretty damn hard to read. I didn’t reveal a thing.

***

            When the bell rang, I grabbed my stuff and got out of there immediately. Emma definitely knew something about what had happened to Karen that much I knew. What I didn’t know was whether she was the killer or an accomplice or maybe even a witness to it. But either way, sticking around there for any longer than needed wasn’t a good idea, especially if she was the killer. Her popularity practically controlled most of the school, the jocks especially. So if she wanted to, she could just ask a small group of them to take care of me and they wouldn’t even bat an eye at the request. They were already itching to kick the living crap out of me.

    I walked out of the front of the school with my bag over my shoulder, headed for my car. Several students passed me as they too headed for their vehicles, eager to get home. It was the weekend after all and this was the only time students had any sense of freedom. Of course, that still didn’t stop the snickers, the glares, and names people called me as they passed.

    I sighed when I heard one of the preps whisper under her breathe as she bumped me, “Oh, sorry…Rapist.”

    I mean come on, really? Do they ever think about what they’re saying?

    That’s when I started to hear more talking and giggling come from behind me. I took a peek over my shoulder to see one of the “Popular” groups exit the building. Preps, jocks, and all the rest of them talked to one another. Cracking jokes, insults to other kids and showing off. This was the sort of group Karen had been part of. And it was also the group Emma was a part of.

    I let out a small disgusted breath and picked up the pace. I didn’t want to be anywhere near them, or Emma.

    My car sat alone in the farthest corner of the student parking lot. Funny, huh? Even when I’m out of class people still keep far, far away from me.

    Only today, that no longer proved to be true.

    I had just reached my car and tossed my bag inside when a voice behind me said, “Alright, how long have you known?” I clenched my eyes shut with a silent curse. I knew who it was. I turned to see Emma with her arms crossed, staring at me without her mask.

    I kept my face blank, “How long have I known about what?” I asked her.

    Her nostrils flared a bit in annoyance, “I think we both know what I’m talking about.”

    “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Why don’t you go ahead and refresh my memory?”

    “David,” She said in a low murderous tone, “Don’t play around.”

    “I’m not playing around. Look around us, why don’t you?” I spread my arms apart, gesturing at all the students, “I think I’m the only who doesn’t play around, and doesn’t spout lies out of his mouth every five seconds.”

    I lowered my arms and glared at her, “Unlike you. I never fell for your goodie-two shoes façade. Not even for a single day. Though I will give you credit, you’ve gotten the whole school to buy into that. But not me.”

    To her credit, Emma didn’t flair up in reaction, instead she continued to stare daggers at me and with a cool voice say, “If you never fell for it, why didn’t you tell anyone? Huh, bud? Why didn’t you try to save Brandon from death row when you had the chance? Why didn’t you expose me?”

    Crap… That confirmed it. There was no longer any doubt in my mind. Emma was indeed Karen’s killer. I cleared my face of all emotion and matched her dead tone in kind, “Because, I’m a quiet one.”

    Before she could react, I turned, got into my car and sped off. Leaving a stunned murderess behind, staring after me.

***

            When I got home, I headed straight for my room, slamming the door shut behind me, before dropping onto my bed in disbelief.

    Emma, killed Karen!? I shook my head. Why!? Why did she do it?

    I couldn’t comprehend this discovery. In a day I’d discovered more than both the entire police department and school combined.

    I just wasn’t sure what to do. I mean I could go and tell the police what I’d found out, but chances were they wouldn’t believe me. Not without any proof or motive. Something that I lacked.

    How can I prove to the police Emma did it? I wondered.

    As if in answer, my cell phone began ringing. “Huh?” I glanced down at my pocket with surprise before pulling out the cell. I didn’t recognize the number on screen. Not sure who it was I answered it, “Uh…Hello?”

    “You, at the school’s football field, tonight at 8:00. Got it?” said a familiar female voice.

    “Emma?!” I sat up in surprise, “What the- How did you get this number?”

    “It doesn’t matter. Be there tonight.” I could almost feel the loathing come through the mouthpiece as she said that.

    I, in turn, couldn’t help but chuckle at that, “Heheh…Like I’d be stupid enough to do that. What makes you think I’d come to see you? After knowing what you’ve done?”

    “Oh, well…you see,” She began saying in mock innocence, “If you’re not here by then. Then you might become a very suspicious suspect in the sudden disappearance of Rena. Since her friends heard you say something to her the day she vanished that made her freak out. It could’ve been a death threat for all we know.”

    My eyes grew wide and my jaw slowly opened when I realized what she was implying, “You didn’t….” I said, my tongue feeling dry.

    “Tonight, 8:00. Be there. Alone.” She said again.

    The line went dead.

    I lowered the phone in my hand, staring at it with shock.

This was not good.

***

            I turned off my headlights and took a long tedious look around the dark parking lot. It was empty and felt sullen. A few streetlamps cast an orange glow onto it in contrast to the dark sky above. The football stadium was just several yards ahead of me. All the lights inside of it were off, which I knew automatically wasn’t good. The lights are always supposed to be on in the stadium. “Damn…” I murmured. I took another glance around. So what the heck am I supposed to do? Wait here? I wondered.

    I leaned back in my seat and waited, but not for very long. After about ten minutes or so, my cellphone vibrated with a text message. I flicked it open to read, “Come inside the stadium, and don’t try anything. I’m watching you.”

    I lowered the phone and looked back up at the stadium with dread. Putting on my best brave face, I slipped the cell phone back into my pocket and pulled on my camo jacket. After taking a deep breath I got out of my car and patted my right pocket to make sure the item I grabbed before coming here was still there. Thankfully it was.
“Alright,” I said in an attempt to reassure myself, “Here we go.” And with one last deep breath I went inside.

***

    I gazed at each seat surrounding the field. Empty…Where the heck is she? I had no idea where she wanted me to go. She hadn’t told me. I stood at the entrance for another ten minutes or so until I finally gave up and said, “Screw it.” I turned and headed back for the entrance. If she doesn’t wanna show up, that’s fine by me. I didn’t want to see her anyway.

    I pushed through the gate that led back to the parking lot, where my car waited. I stuck a hand in my pocket and was digging for my keys when I heard it. A strange, low whistling hiss coming from beneath the front of my car. I narrowed my eyes, picking up the pace. When I reached it, I crouched down to take a closer look, “Oh-no…You’ve got to be kidding me!” I groaned as I examined my two front tires. Long jagged cuts ran across each tire’s side, gushing out air with each passing second. My jaw slowly dropped, my head shaking. “No, no, no!” I stood up with my hands curling into angry fists. How could I be so stupid?!

    I glanced back at the stadium and glared. It was no fricken wonder why I didn’t see her inside. She was out here making sure I couldn’t bail from meeting her! Damn it! I slammed a fist against the hood, pissed. I should have seen this coming. “Zzzzzzzttt!” my phone vibrated.

    My eyes flew down to my pocket, I already had a guess who was calling. After a moment’s hesitation and a reeeaaalllllly deep breath, I dug it out and answered, “Hello?” I said, trying to keep the angry annoyance out of my voice which was almost impossible.

    “Didn’t I tell you to come inside?” I heard Emma’s nonchalant voice say from other end of the line.

    “Yeah,” I grounded my teeth, “And I did. You weren’t there.”

    “Then you should have waited.”

    With a snort, I rolled my eyes, “Why no crap? I did wait Emma.”

    “You should have waited longer.” The indifference in her voice made me want to gag.

    Really? Another groan formed in my throat, “Yeah, fine…whatever. Where the hell are you then? And why did you have to slash my tires!?” I couldn’t keep my disgust out of the last bit.

    “Oh! Well I didn’t want you leaving until we talked or in case you chickened out and tried to ditch meeting me.”

    I looked back at the stadium, shaking my head. “Well then, I’m here and can’t leave now. So where are you?”

    “Where I said I was earlier, in the stadium. And this time, don’t just stand around waiting for me. Look around!”

    The call ended. I lowered the phone, staring at it, not knowing what to make of this. Why on earth would she want me to come back inside? What’s the point? Couldn’t she have just waited out here next to my car?

    I slid the phone back into my pocket. Well, it doesn’t seem like I have much of choice. I took one last glance at my bleeding tires, letting out a sigh. “Let’s try this one more time,” I murmured. I headed back inside the stadium.

For a second time.

***

            I took Emma’s advice and walked around the place looking for her. I didn’t know why she’d want me to come here but I figured there had to be more to this than just a little “Chat”. My guess: She was probably going to kill me. Something that was obvious right off the fly and pretty stupid on her part. I mean come on, how would she be able to do that and expect to get off clean with the cops?

    I passed by the door leading into the locker room where all the football players met before a game. I stopped when I noticed light streaming from beneath the door. Could this be where she’s at? I took a quick glance around to make sure I wasn’t missing anything. But of course, there was nothing amiss as far as I could tell besides the light coming from beneath the door.

    I guess it is, I reached down into my jacket pocket and got ready the thing that might be the key to my salvation if this didn’t go my way. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the door handle and pushed.

    When I entered, I didn’t see anything unusual. There was no one there aside from me. The room was empty, however the lights were on so someone had been in here not too long ago, no doubt Emma. I cautiously made my way into the room and peeked around each row of lockers and benches I came across to make sure Emma wasn’t lying in ambush, but she was nowhere to be found. Where the heck is she?

    Something slammed shut from the other side of the room.

    …I just had to ask, didn’t I? I peeked around a locker to see the door that led to the field. Oh, so that’s where she went. I walked over to it, took a deep breathe, preparing for my encounter with Emma, then pushed through.

    I felt a like a fool when I stepped onto the field. I was expecting to be greeted by Emma, holding a gun or a knife, waiting for me. But no. Instead I was greeted by a dark, empty, field.

    I stood still, blinking a few times for a long moment before narrowing my eyes. A subtle, fire began growing in my stomach.  How long are we going to play “Hide ‘N’ Seek”? Please, someone just tell me.

    I waited a few more seconds, hoping she might pop out or do something. When nothing happened, I let out a long sigh, saying, “Oooohhh Emma? Where the hell are you?” I crossed my arms and waited for a response. The only thing that answered back was the silence of the empty field.

    I muttered a few silent curses then walked further along the field, scanning every individual bleacher for signs of Emma. Every seat I saw was barren except for the occasional candy wrapper or empty popcorn bin left behind from a previous game.

    When I reached the center of the field I stopped, placing my hands in my pockets out of boredom. She calls and threatens me to come here, I come and she hides. I go to look for her, she slashes my tires. She calls me and tells me to look for her again, she hides again... What is the purpose of this!!!?

    As if on cue, my cell phone vibrated. I stood still, staring straight ahead with an annoyance I swear was never going to end. Let me guess, I thought, She’s going to tell me, I need to go search for her in the girl’s locker room.

    I flipped open the phone to find a text message waiting, “This way.” was all it read.

    “Huh?” I raised an eyebrow. “What way?”

     Lights suddenly blazed to life from the entrance directly across from me, making me jump.

    “Oh,” I said as I regained my composure. I slid the phone back in my pocket. “That’s what she meant.” I couldn’t really understand what the whole “leading me in circles” thing was about but I didn’t have much of a choice.

    I took one last glance around before jogging to the door. She better be there this time, I thought to myself as I pushed through the door.

Only to see Rena,

Dying.

            “Holy-!” My eyes widen. Rena, was sprawled face down on the floor. Her white sweater was stained crimson near her neckline and I could see a small pool of blood steadily growing larger beneath her head. I slowly walked over to her, not believing what I was seeing. I knelt down, placing a hand on her shoulder and after a breath’s length, turned her over.

    “Oh, frick!” I reeled back, covering my mouth, trying my best not to gag. Rena’s neck had been slit, several cuts decorated her face, a long gash ran up her right cheek all the way to her eye, another gash ran horizontally across her left all the way to her ear.

    “W-why? Why would she do this?” I whispered.

    Rena coughed, causing blood to spray from her neck onto my face. I jerked back in surprise.

She was alive!

            “Oh, crap. Hang on!” I placed both hands on her neck, trying to keep her from drowning in her own blood, as sick as that sounds. Her weak eyes opened the moment I touched her. She groaned even louder, trying to say something, but only managed another coughing fit. I grimaced, “You’ll be fine. You’ll be fine...” I kept telling her, even though in truth I knew that was probably not going to happen. You can only keep someone whose throat’s been cut alive for so long by applying pressure. You need medical help.

    Keeping one hand pressed down on the wound, I reached into my pocket with other for my cell phone.

    “Oh, no need to call the cops.” said a giddy voice behind me. My limbs turned into lead. I slowly looked over my shoulder to see Emma leaning against the door I’d come in from. She wore a tan sweater with blue jeans and worst of all, she was smiling. She seemed to be enjoying Rena’s suffering. She continued speaking, “I already called them.”

    I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice, “What?!” Why the hell would she call the cops? That’s the last thing you’d ever want to do after slicing someone’s neck!

    Emma’s smile grew bigger, before saying, “Oh, David, David, David.” She shook her head with a fake frown, clicking her tongue, “What a badbad…thing you did.”

    My jaw hit the floor. What I did? I shook my head trying to clear the confusion, “What in the hell are you talking about?”

    She faked a surprised teasing look at me, “Why? You killed Rena!” She starting walking towards us.

    “What are you talking about!? YOU DID!” I shouted.

    “Oh, no, no, no….I came here to see Rena, since she felt scared after you threatened her this morning. She didn’t want go home alone after she was done with cheerleading practice.” She grinned and stopped in front of me. “But I came, only to find you stabbing poor, poor Rena.”

    My back straightened. She couldn’t possibly be suggesting…“You’re planning to make it look like I DID THIS!? You’re crazy! No one’s going to buy that story! I can explain the whole thing to them, along with Rena!”

    “Oh…well,” She knelt down in front of me biting her lip, her eyes off to the side as if what she was saying was so painful, she couldn’t meet my own, even though I knew she was relishing every moment, “You see, she’ll be dead when they get here, and my hands will be clean in all of this, unlike yours.” Her smile returned as she look down at my bloody hands then back to my eyes. My eyes narrowed, my nostrils flared as I glared at her. “How’re you gonna explain my slashed tires, huh?” I growled.

    She chuckled, “Oh, what can I say about people like you? The quiet ones. You all do the strangest things.”

    “They’re not going to buy-” I cut myself off, my jaw went slack. They would buy that, I realized. The authorities wouldn’t even blink if they were told I’d done this. As a quiet one and with the past two murders supposedly done by quiet ones, the cops would just about believe anything concerning someone like me. We weren’t normal to them. We weren’t human to them. We were killers.

    Rena went into another violent coughing fit bringing my attention back to her. Emma didn’t seem to notice, “And the best part is,” She said, “The cops will find you dead too. Right after you viciously attacked me with the knife that I, by the grace of God, was able to wrestle from you.”

    It took all but two seconds for my head to snap up and register the meaning of that. “WHAT!?” I let go of her neck and swirled around just in time to see Emma bury the knife into my shoulder. I screamed in pain as she yanked it out and went at me again.

    Adrenaline kicked in and before she could bring the knife down I lunged forward, knocking it aside and tackling her. She landed on her back with yelp. Before she could recover, I was on top of her, pummeling her with my fists,

    Without.

    Any.

    Form

    Of.

    Hesitation.

     “YOU SICK!” Punch. “SADISTIC!” Punch. “MURDERER!!!!” I screamed at her. I expected her to try pushing me off or at least try stabbing me with the knife but to my surprise, she didn’t struggle at all. A strange noise came from beneath my punches, it wasn’t until I paused in my swings that I realized that it was laughter. “What’s so funny!? Huh!?” I bored my eyes into hers.

    One of her eyes was now blue, swollen shut but she kept on grinning, saying, “You’re filling out all our expectations…heheheh.” She laughed again.

    What? The sound of approaching sirens, suddenly came from outside of the stadium and I could hear the sounds of rapid footsteps echo through the building. I got off her and stood still, too stunned to move.

    “Oh, and David?” Emma’s voice grabbed my attention, making me look back down to her. She raised her hand up, holding something small and black. It was only when she turned it over and I saw the light of the LED screen that I realized it was my cellphone, that she must’ve taken out of my pocket when I’d been too busy punching her, “Here goes your salvation.” She grinned, then clicked a button on it. The screen suddenly displayed the message: “All messages deleted”.

Crap.

     “Oh God! Someone help us! Please! IN HERE!!!!” Emma suddenly screamed.

    I looked at her, horrified. I’d come to the realization too late. This was her plan all along. That’s why she’d led me all around the stadium, to give the cops more time to get here and me less time to save Rena. I turned and looked back at the entrance door as the sounds of the cops grew nearer.

    I would look like Rena’s killer and Emma’s attacker…Wait, Rena!

    I ran back to Rena and dropped to my knees, praying that she was still alive. Her eyes were closed, her breaths coming in slow ragged, bloody gasps. I placed both my hands back on the slit hoping to keep her alive long enough for help to arrive. If anyone could tell the cops what had really happened here and not Emma’s lies, it would be her.

    “Go ahead and try to save her, David.” Emma chuckled, “Nothing you do is going to save you now.”

    We’ll see about that. I didn’t have to wait long, after another thirty seconds or so the door to the room burst open and three cops ran in, guns ready.

    “Please!!! He’s there! He’s hurting her!” Emma screamed. She painfully pulled herself up into a sitting position and pointed at me.

    Oh, crap!  My eyes widen as I saw three gun barrels level with my head.

    I could only do one thing, “Please wait! Don’t shoot!” I let go of Rena and raised my hands in surrender, “I’m not armed!”

    “Oh, Christ almighty!” Exclaimed one of the officers as he saw both my bloodied hands, and blood spattered face glisten in the light. “Stand up! Slowly!” He commanded training the gun on me with renewed vigor.

    I did as I was told and slowly stood up, “But wait, she needs help!” I gestured my head towards Rena’s fallen form, “Her neck’s been slit and-”

    “Because of you! You monster!” Emma screamed, cutting me off, “You killed her!”

    One of the cops ran over to Emma and began to tend to her while the other two continued to keep their aim. “Turn around and put both hands on your head.” I obeyed. Within moments, I felt myself jostled forward and the touch of cold steel clamp around my wrists as I was placed in handcuffs. One of the cops began reading me my rights while the other remaining officer rushed over to help Rena. He pulled a radio from his belt and hollered into it, “Get an ambulance over here!”

    Minutes later, I was led outside of the stadium and shoved into the back of a police cruiser, but not before seeing Emma flashing me a quick smile as she was looked over by one of the medics and vaguely overhearing one of the docs say that Rena had suffered a concussion along with several deep lacerations. So not only had Emma sliced her and diced her, I thought, she’d slammed her head against the floor a few times for good measure. I could only guess she’d done it while I was too busy playing Hide-n-Seek in the stadium.

Emma had planned this out perfectly.

***

            I was kept in overnight lock-up. It wasn’t until early the next morning that I was taken to the interrogation room. And I’ll this say now: those movies about cops interrogating suspects in a single gray room, with a lone table, and no air conditioning aren’t too far from the truth. The only difference is that in person, it’s ten times scarier. These guys don’t mess around.

    But me personally, I wasn’t too scared. I had a plan.

    As they sat me down, I saw one of the other cops already sitting down with a file in front of him open, waiting for me.

    He was in his thirties, bald and looked just as intimidating as any hard cop should be.

    “Hello son,” He said, but his tone was anything but friendly, “I’m detective Amsel.”

    I flashed him a smile before replying, “Nice to you meet you detective Amsel, I’m David.”

    Detective Amsel didn’t smile back. “I’m glad to see you’re enjoying what you’ve done.” He leaned forward, “But trust me, you won’t be enjoying where you’re going after this.”

    “Yeah,” I said still smiling, “Home.”

    His eyes narrowed, “No, prison.”

    I rolled my eyes, “Look man, I’m not going to prison. Why? Because the only thing I did was try to save Rena’s life. Speaking of which, how is she?”

    “She’s conscious now, but not in a good state. No thanks to you.”

    “She’s alive then?” I let out a quick sigh of relief. My plan was going to work, “Okay then. Has she told you what happened yet?” I was eager to get out this place.

    “She doesn’t remember anything.”

    Both my dreams and smile melted, “Come again?”

    Detective Amsel continued with his cold, stern stare, “You heard me, son. She doesn’t remember a thing. You can thank the beating you gave her for that.”

    The concussion, I remembered, crap. Things were not looking good for me.

    “But she does remember enough to recall you saying things to her at school yesterday as well as calling Emma.”

    Double Crap.

    “And you might as well confess to it now. Since we’ve got two witnesses and three officers who saw you hurting the poor girl at the scene.”

    “I wasn’t hurting her! I was trying to help her!!!”

    The detective dismissed it with a wave of his hand, “Please, we’re not stupid, son. This would be the third time I’ve had to deal with your type.”

    It was my turn to narrow my eyes, “Third time? My type? You’re talking about Edger and Brandon, aren’t you?”

    The detective nodded his head, “It’s always the quiet ones.” He said more to himself than to me.

    That was it. That’s what this all boils down to. Me, being a quiet one. The usual suspect.

    Well, I think it’s time to fricking change that, “Well, Detective Amsel. I’ve got three things I need to tell you, and I think you’re going to want to hear them. Oh, and after I tell them to you, I want to be there for Emma’s arrest, if you don’t mind?”

    The cop raised an eyebrow at me and simply shook his head. I had no doubt what was going through his mind, “What can he possible tell me that I don’t already know?”

    But he let me anyway.

    “Well, then first off: It’s not always the quiet ones. Emma is proof of that. Second off: Brandon didn’t kill Karen, Emma did. And finally: If you want to know what really happened, check my right jacket pocket.”

    Detective Amsel looked at me strangely.

    “You know…my jacket? The one I had on last night? The cops took it since it had blood all over it. I’m pretty sure they searched it, but if they haven’t check the pocket.”

    The detective stood up, walked out of the room for a few minutes before returning. He was holding the very thing that would right so many wrongs about my so called, ‘Type’.

    He sat down and looked it over before looking at me, “You had a camera with you?”

    I smiled. “Press play.”

    Detective Amsel open the LED screen of my handycam and hit play. Nothing could be seen on the screen but the camera had still captured the audio of my encounter with Emma the night before.

    Once the recording was finished, he put the camera down and looked at me, speechless.

    His mouth opened and closed a few times as he looked for the words to say, but I gave it to him instead.

    “Yeah, I know, I know,” I smiled, “It’s always the quiet ones.”

***

            It wasn’t too long after that Emma was taken into custody for the attempted murder of Rena and myself and the murder of Karen. Brandon was released from death row and had his record expunged. He graciously thanked me over and over for getting him out, but after what had happened to him and his family, they moved from town. It’s been about, three weeks since then and so far, everything’s gone back to normal, or at least as close to normal as possible. A lot of things have changed still. People have started treating me like a decent human being and not as a killer, now that they all know the truth of what happened to Karen, a truth that was kept silent for so long. They’ve rethought a lot of things about me and people like me. Granted, some of them still cast suspicious looks at me since to them, I will always be different.

But I don’t really care.

    Rena, has recovered and while she doesn’t recall everything that happened that night, she’s recalled enough to know it wasn’t me who’d attacked her. And she now has three permanent reminders of what happened to her that night. The scars on her face and neck are hard for people not to gape at, but she’s beginning to get over it. She too like everyone else has also rethought her views on people like Brandon and me… me a little more since well… She keeps wanting to hang out with me and sit by me every class we’re in (a little too much).

    And me? I’m still the same. I’m still quiet, I still watch and I still listen. Oh, and I do occasionally snoop around since I found something Emma wrote not too long ago explaining what she did to Karen and Brandon. Her own little confession that she thought no one would ever see or believe. Heh, it’s what helped me land her on death row.

And not to quote her or anything but,

“Isn’t it funny how life works?”

Written as a spiritual sequel to both :iconjimjanartz:’s wonderful pasta It’s Always the Quiet Ones and :iconkomradapex:'s The Usual Suspects which you can read here:
It's Always the Quiet Ones   Creepypasta: The Usual Suspect
I hope you enjoy it and I hope it might make some of the people who read the earlier ones and went a bit crazy about it feel better.
Copyright by Me: :iconjjtninja:
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