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In this moment his blood pumped profusely through every vein and artery. His hands shook and his eyes darted around, scanning the walls and ceilings searching for answers, following each crack in the floor like it was going to lead him back in time away from the past two hours. Charlie had seen this story before, always from the outside. He’d seen friend after friend get sucked into the trap, but he never thought he would be the one sitting on the cold steel chair with a single drop of sweat falling off his nose.
“Charlie, I need you to tell me all that happened in the last 2 hours” This mouth moved up and down and Charlie knew what it said. He knew what he was supposed to say. But when he opened his mouth to speak, not a single word came out. He knew he must have looked ridiculous with his chin hanging and his tongue swelling, but in his neck a flaming claw was dragging against both walls of his throat. Trying to swallow, he was able to mutter “Uh…” but the words after didn’t follow. Inside his head the thoughts banged against his skull he just wanted to let them free. He wanted to say how he was with his friends, just a group of guys, and he wanted to say how he had no idea what was to come of this. “This was supposed to be fun!” he wanted to scream. But no words could come out.
Charlie knows how absurd it is. He didn’t want to go. He was not supposed to be there. Two hours ago he stepped out of his car, and in his new red Jordans he walked up to the door. All the cool kids were there. Everyone was there. It was just a party for his friend Blake: ping-pong, a pool, and a big stereo system. The minute he walked in he sensed there was something off, and after a couple minutes of sitting alone a few guys he knew from school came up to talk. They were guys who had never said a word to Charlie, still he knew their names, Jeremy and Blake and that one kid who always had his Pittsburgh Pirates hat on backwards. Blake stepped forward first and offered Charlie a drink.
“A drink?” he was confused; he didn’t think there would be any alcohol.
Noticing his concerned face, Blake replied “Soda dude, chill”. Charlie accepted and walked over to the counter and Blake poured him Fanta into a solo cup. It was nice what the guys did, Charlie didn’t think they even knew who he was. It’s not very often he feels accepted somewhere, so it felt great to be noticed. It felt too great.
With a headache, Charlie thought he might call it a night. He waved at the guys and said goodbye, but they just laughed. Charlie had apparently found a new career in comedy. Everyone was having a great time, and Charlie had become the center of the party. Everyone cheered him on as he walked out the door and down the steps toward the road. He couldn’t lift his eyes, they scattered from the cracks in the concrete to to his red shoes walking in a blur step by step. Shuffling, running, flying, he made it to his car, put the key in the ignition and started the engine.
The streetlights flying by fascinated Charlie, he felt like he had missed so much in the world. He appreciated life. Life was so great to him. The trees created a dark canopy over the road, and a big yellow moon filled the sky behind the branches. Charlie couldn’t keep his eyes off the beauty of the world, and one hour ago his wheels began to kiss the curb of the road making a beautifully harmonic noise, the screeching was music to Charlie’s ears. And soon he almost had the car flying, first one wheel on the curb, then two, three, four. Charlie knew he could reach the moon, he could fly right through the trees and touch the moon. On the sidewalk a small figure stood straight and tall, admiring the same full moon, taking in the full beauty and serenity of what is ahead, only denying the peril behind them.
It was so hard to speak. Charlie knew what had happened. The faces of the boys at the party were burned in his mind. Blake and Jeremy and Pittsburgh. Charlie knew what they did, and he knew that was why the past two hours left him here. He saw straight through the solid door, yearning to be free. He wanted to appreciate the world for what it really is. He wanted to say the names and leave. But something kept his throat from uttering a single sound, and his fear left him immobilized. He owed these guys nothing. He barely knew them, they deserved to be sitting in his chair. Charlie’s bloodshot and watery eyes began to release a small tear. Charlie had taken a life and it wasn’t his fault. Two hours and someone’s life is over, and his life is gone. Yet still Charlie can only internally scream, “Why can’t I admit it wasn’t me?”
♥