Scream

Kellin Kodiak

No, I don't really think we're going to find this killer. Sure, we found the phone they were using, but I don't think we'll actually get them. They've gotten this far without being caught. Why screw it up with some high school kid's phone? 

 I pull into my driveway, lock my car, and enter my house. "I'm home," I call into the house, heading into my room. 

 "Hey, Kell," my dad says from his room, which is more of a storage unit with bike parts. He's a mechanic who specializes in motorcycles. "Mom is still working. She'll be home in an hour or two."

 "Alright-y," I respond. 

 "Also," he says, coming out from the back of the house, wiping his greasy hands with a dirty rag. "The school called and said there was no class for the rest of the week. Did something happen? There was a threat?" 

 "Yeah. Apparently, the killer was in our school. He threatened to kill a whole classroom if Reyna didn't speak at the gymnasium." 

 "And did she show?" Dad inquires, worry plastered on his sun-tanned face. 

 "Yes, but she didn't have to say anything. The killer forced a firewall around the school, and our own local Solaris hacker found the phone communicating with the killer. It's all really complicated," I admit. "But it's over."

Dad shakes his head. "Poor Reyna. Her mom died, she was in the lockdown, she was attacked, her friends are dying...it's terrible." My father takes a tremendous breadth. 

"Kellin, I want you to be careful, okay? I don't want you to end up like her." 

 "Of course."

 Dad wrings his hands together. "Your mother isn't home yet, but I'm sure she would agree with what I'm about to say kiddo. I don't want you to hang out with Reyna. Now, I know you've barely talked to her, but it only took one encounter to put you in danger at the church." 

 I laugh – not out of disrespect, but out of amusement. "I put myself in that situation. Not Reyna. Our own actions call for our own consequences." 

 "Yes, I know, Plato. But with your actions veering from Reyna, your consequences won't include death. Do you want to die?" 

 "No, Dad. That's an unnecessary question. Look, Reyna's a good kid," I protest, grabbing an apple from our fruit rack. "She just happens to be the target of a serial killer. It's not her fault."

"Kellin, you're smart. If you were being targeted by a murderer, do you think you would be totally innocent? Do you think you would be targeted 'just because?'" 

 My father had a point. Action calls for consequence. The consequence of being targeted calls for action. What action could've provoked Reyna's consequence? For the first time, I start to question her victimization; her innocence. 

"Think about it," my father tells me before turning away. "I'm going to work on some things in the garage. Let me know if you need anything, and there are leftovers in the fridge." 

 "Thank you," I gratify, opening the fridge in the daily hunt for food. As my eyes bestow upon some classic chicken and rice, my phone buzzes with a text message. 

Unknown: Hey, it's Adriano on my backup phone. Before you ask why I have one, you know my punishment track record...anyways, I told you I'd get your number. 

You: I'm hardly impressed. 

I enter the unknown number in as Adriano's and shovel some food onto a plate before throwing it into the microwave.