A puppet.
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The wind. The god damn wind. Every gust sends another chill through my body. I leaned against the car. The car that screeched to a halt in a sand and rock parking lot next to a swamp pond in the middle of god damn nowhere.¬†The car that my mother had given me when I turned seventeen. The car that I use to fill with friends and good times, is now the tomb of an innocent man. The dark blue Toyota Avalon grunted, as the hot engine cooled against the night air. I waited. I waited for what seemed to be forever. One thirteen ¬†A.M. Ill never forget it. He pulled up¬†In his white jeep wrangler. Brand new and when it wasn’t caked under layers of mud, it looked gorgeous. Never did figure out why he picked the white one, knowing damn well he was going to be bogging in it. I diddant move, I diddnt so much as throw him a glance. He kept his jeep running with the headlights shined at me. He leaned against the ¬†hood of the car to my left. We both faced the lake, mesmerized by the reflection of the moon as the image ripples through the water. Finally, it began. What would later be known as the beginning of the end, he broke the silence.” It wasn’t your fault.” I didn’t ¬†respond. ” Travis it was an accident, accidents happen.” his voice rose a little. Almost as if he was pleading my case. Little did he know my case had been lost long ago. I turned to him, his eyes were glazed over, with purple underneath them. I could tell he was sleeping when I called, I could tell that this was probably the first night in a while that he’s actually had some sleep, and here he is. By his older brothers side when everyone else forgot him. I spoke softly, My voice cracked. ” I didn’t break a window playing baseball Patrick, I took a life. Not a decision for a man like me to be making. Weather someone lives or dies.” I saw a single tear run down his cheek, it sparkled in the rays of his headlights. He turned from me and back at the lake. He cried. Funny, haven’t seen him cry in a long time. He loved me, and god knows I’d die for that kid, and he’d do the same for me. But this wasn’t his fight, It was mine. I hadn’t turned away yet. I pushed off of the hood of the car And stood in front of him. “Go home Patrick.” Tears were still streaming down his face as I walked to my driver side door. He got off the hood of the car and walked back to his, wiping his face with the sleeve on his blue flannel button up shirt, he yelled out before I sat in driver side. But I ignored hum, best bit know what the last words from him I hear were. ¬†I sat down in the car and shut the door, started my car, and drove off promptly. Never bothered to hear what he said, Never bothered to look back at him. The car screeched out onto a long stretch of road, the night seemed to engulf the car, and the headlights drove away what it could. At two thirty six I pulled into the parking lot of a local police station. I turned the car off. And sat there. I looked at the interior of the car, every detail, the passenger side mirror the my ex girlfriend broke the night of prom. The right back seat were my best friend Rodger almost died in. He said he owed me for saving him after it was all said and done. Guess I’ll never call in the favor. I reached over to the glove compartment and pulled out the picture of me and my mother. We took the picture the day I graduated high school. She always said it was her favorite picture of us and when I asked why she said because that was the beginning of me becoming something great. I blinked hard And streams of tears ran to my lips. I wiped my face with the bottom of my shirt. I got out of the car, shut the door And put the picture in my back pocket. I walked over to the trunk. Ah, the trunk. A coffin. It locked the once body if a mr.Edward Ferris. And the weapon I used to end his life. I hit the trunk button on my key chain. The trunk popped open and there he was. Or rather it was.The body was hollow and it was plain as day to see. The trunk light was more then enough for me to get the picture of him stained once again in my head. Dress pants, black dress shoes, and a white polo. He had brown hair well groomed and green eyes. I’ll always remember the green eyes. Laid next to him was a five and a half inch combat knife, stained with Edwards blood. I picked the knife up and gripped it in my hand. I walked towards the police station leaving the trunk open. I pushed open the glass doors of the quiet station, the first person I saw was at the front desk. A man dressed in light blue police uniform, short blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smile to greet me, right before the terror. He screamed as he pulled out his gun. ” weapon!” I took the knife to my throat, and slit from one ear to the other. The knife dropped and everything whent silent instantly. it was all over in seconds, I had repaid what I could even though it was far from enough.
In the end the investigators had concluded it was a suicide after homicide. After investigation of the homicide, they concluded this. Mr. Edward Ferris was brutally attacked by Travis cross after being thrown out of a local bar for causing trouble. Travis suffered from extreme guilt after the murder. It is unknown why Travis attacked Edward. During the autopsy of Travis Cross, scars were identified on the back of his neck. It was discovered that later on the marks were made by the same knife Travis used to kill Edward, and take his own life. The scars were discovered to say ” forever a puppet ” and by the angle of the letters, could not have been made by Travis himself….