I killed a man today.
This is what I think as the interrogator sits across from me, glasses sitting crooked on his nose. He looked down at his clipboard, filled with terrible accusations.
'I killed him!' I want to say.
'I killed him!' The desperation in my voice pleads.
The interrogation had not yet commenced but believe me when I say it was an accident. He sipped on his cup of coffee with eyebags underneath. I am guilty of killing a man. I held the old man's cold body as he bled out from every crack in his skin. His blood still stains my hands, refusing to leave like a bad visitor. It mirror's a wine stain on a white dress. I didn't mean to kill him. Much like accidents, it just happened. I was found in a bad place at a bad time. The interrogator shifted in his chair as he cleared his throat. The walls rumbled by the sudden noise preceded by the lack thereof.
"It was an accident I swear." I rapidly confess.
"What was an accident?" The interrogator asks.
"The old man. I was just trying to help. Believe me." I pleaded my case like a convicted killer loves the police.
The interrogation hadn't even started.
The interrogator had a look on his face. He knew I was responsible.
"Is he really dead?" I ask hesitantly. It's 3 pm, Wednesday afternoon. I had skipped school and was on my way to the skate park.
"I'm afraid that is the case," says the interrogator.
I should've stayed at school. I should be home. I miss home.
"Can you tell me what happened?" Asked the interrogator. My breath was shaky as I began to speak.
"He fell from the building, and I tried to help him-"
"From the very beginning please."
____________
I was at school. I was bored like usual. It was fourth period.
"I hate school." I said for the millionth time. The teacher had fallen asleep. I opened my phone to keep myself entertained, but the school's Wi-Fi was below nonexistent, it started to signal SOS. I don't even know what that means.
"Did you hear? They opened a new skate park down the block." Said a friend of mine. Well, he was more of an acquaintance than a friend. "Wanna head there after class?"
"I'd rather just skip." It was true. I hated school.
"I have a unit test next period, so I can't skip. But I'll meet you there."
"Whatever." I dismissed. I had a test next period as well, not that I cared, I was already failing most of my classes.
The bell rang and the teacher woke up alarmed.
"Fire! Fire! Fire!" Yelled his voice as he stood up from his chair. We all ignored him as we spilled into the halls.
We call him the crazy teacher. He had been in an accident a while back. Alarms freak him out now. They say he killed someone in that accident. Others say he committed arson. Some say they saw him die. I, personally, don't really care.
Instead of going to fifth period, I step out the large doors. No one takes notice of my absence.
I skate my way down the block, looking for the skate park. I skate up and down the block a couple times until I admit that I didn't know where 'down the block' was at. I stop at an intersection, pulling out my phone to search for the skate park.
A car honks at me while they pass me.
Imbecile.
I put my earphones in, picking a playlist. I keep skating downtown, going the right way this time. The streets were busy with rush hour. Cars honked at one another for no clear reason. I stop at an intercession, waiting for the little man across the street to light up green. A car breaks abruptly. They look up at the sky, horrified. I follow their steady gaze pointed at the sky.
A man stood on his balcony five floors up. He began to fall.
I tried to look away but found that my eyes were too slow. The sound of his body against the pavement is the type of sound your mind makes up when there is no sound, or a sound that you will never forget. A sound that will haunt you. The old man had landed on top of a parked car. He had bent in ways I didn't know were possible. In ways I wish I could forget. People in the streets began to scream. Some had taken their phones out. Little kids in cars had hands covering their eyes.
The little man across the street lit up green.
I crossed the street.
At first, I walked, and then I ran. Not away from imminent danger, but too.
Just then I remembered that I had learned CPR during gym class not long ago.
I tried to reach the spattered old man amidst the crowd that had rapidly developed. I pushed and shoved, and in turn, got pushed and shoved some more. I could not get to the old man. I turn to someone and see that they have their phone out, recording. They all had their phones out. What is wrong with them? Has anyone thought of calling 911 yet? I give a final push and it gives. I fall onto all fours and my hand slips on what I realize is blood. I get up and see myself facing the old man.
He's lying on top of the smashed car. I see there is someone inside the car in the driver's seat.
I begin to try to lift the man off the car, and onto the pavement. A man in his late twenties step's out of the vehicle and helps.
I start to give the old man CPR and he begins to gasp.
He's still alive.
"Can you call 911!" I ask the man with the car.
"Don't be ridiculous, a visit to the mechanics, and it'll be like it never even happened." He said as he checked the extensive damage on his car.
The crowd was still recording.
Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. Someone is dying. SOMEONE CALL FOR HELP.
I take a quick break from CPR to take my phone out. I put it against my cheek as I resumed CPR.
"911. What's the emergency."
____________
"Sounds like you've had a rough day" says the interrogator. A long silence follows.
"Is he really dead because of me?"
The interrogator looks at me with pity in his eyes.
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen."
"Ok, so you're still in school. Are you going to college?- Actually that doesn't matter, that was a stupid question. What I'm trying to say is that you didn't know better. You were just trying to help."
"An officer told me that when I did CPR, it pushed the bullets further in."
"He received a fatal wound to the chest and fell 5 floors, he would have died either way."
"Then, who killed him?"
