April 19: a story beginning with these words below.
....
How do you mourn someone when you murder them?
And how do you forgive yourself even you know it wasn't what you wanted to do?
Archer has been my frenemy for years. We met after I discovered he was the one that killed my parents when I was a child.
It was a fire. I was at school. My parents' room was locked from the other side and they couldn't get out. Their windows were locked as well and somehow the smoke from the fire got into their room and suffocated them before anyone could save them. But I discovered that many years later.
There wasn't much damage when I got home but it was such a horrific sight. I began to cry once I set my eyes on it. I immediately sensed something was wrong. I was not allowed into the building and I kept asking everyone questions. They were all looking at me with pity.
I understood immediately and I ran down the road with the tears streaming down my face. I bumped into Archer.
"Oh, you know?" he asked, his eyes searching around for something. He looked scared.
I nodded and brushed past him, just trying to get as far away as possible from the neighborhood.
Archer was my neighbor and friend at that time. We weren't that close but I talk to him sometimes when we're both coming back from school. He gave off this strange energy and I never really liked him that well.
I walked further away but I could barely see what was infront of me because us of the tears streaming down my face and clouding my vision. The strong wind blowing didn't help matters. As I walked further, I was struggling to stop my hair from getting into my eyes and to clean the tears from my face.
"Kevin wait!" I halted abruptly and waited for him to say or do whatever he wanted to do.
He ran to catch up with me.
"Kevin, please..."
My forehead creased as I turned round to stare at him.
"It was..." he started to sob and I watched him as he struggled to speak.
"It was me."
"What?" My backpack slid down to the ground and I took a step forward.
"Wait. It was...it was an accident!"
"Archer," I took a deep breath. "Explain."
"It was a dare."
I stared at him incredulously.
"My friends dared me to do it-"
"You're friends dared you to burn my house down?!" I yelled in outrage and ran over to tackle him.
I pinned him to the ground and my fist almost collided with his face but he yelled at me to listen.
"They told me to set the plants outside of you house on fire. And then put the fire out once it was done. But I heard someone coming out of a room in the house and I ran..."
I gave him a hard blow and he cried out. "Please...I'm sorry. It was a stupid prank. My friends just wanted to get back at you for that time that you teased them and since I was the closest to you, I was assigned to do it. Please don't tell anyone."
...
I've always been haunted by that incident. And I'd always suspected Archer. I never believed him. It was the most stupid thing I'd ever heard. But it was a reasonable explanation. And I wasn't thinking alright at that time so I went with it.
I lived with my aunt and her husband for a few years until I became and adult and got a home of my own. Funny thing was that the place I lived wasn't so far from my original house. And although I tried to ignore that fact, every night I think of it.
