Guilty

Chapter 1

July 19th, 2016

After.

Lying can only do you harm if you're caught.

After all, that's what every criminal defense attorney wants to teach their fifteen-year-old daughter before she's questioned by the police for the sake of their reputation and sanity.

Don't even think of it as lying; think of it as the brain corrector. However you perceived the situation that caught the police's attention, well, that's wrong. It was an accident. You weren't even there. You were studying or texting or reading or watching TV or hanging out with friends. If you aren't convinced that what you should've been doing is what really happened, you will fail.

And another thing: body language is everything. Don't make any unnecessary movements like covering your face or cramming your hands in your pockets. Keep facial expressions to a minimum. Take the questions the way you took that pain in the ass "getting to know you" survey in the beginning of this school year. Don't even let your emotions twitch the truth onto your face. In fact, don't think about emotion if it isn't corrected first.

Maintain eye contact. Just remember what you should've been doing; the corrected truth. Know it. Know the sound of the story the way little kids unintentionally memorize the sound of a parent coming home from work in the evening. Know it backwards. Know it forwards. Know it sideways. Live it. It happened, didn't it? Yes, you lived it and remember it.

No one is scary unless you let them be.

That's right. The police department? Investigators? Your family? Friends? As long as they understand the corrected truth you will get out of hell alive.

You do not deserve to be behind bars.

And I know that. I know why I'm here in the vacant waiting room of the King police station next to my eighteen-year-old brother, Tyler, who is currently the only member of my four person family willing to drive me to the station to "answer a few questions." It sounds innocent, informal--but the lining of reality is there. They're building a case against me. This is the beginning of the end.

I slump down on a hard chair while my brother flips through a magazine titled Super Lawyers.

I don't belong here.

No one does.

I roll my eyes. Those thought bubbles have been dueling through my head for hours along with the occasional rehearsal of my corrected truth.

Who is Darius Blecker to me?

I've never had any real interaction with him before. Something every kid is taught growing up here is that if you're walking on the sidewalk and see him, cross to the other side immediately. He has always been a known creep around town. Targets lonely, vulnerable teenage girls. Talks to girls half his age online, impersonating a teenage boy and stalks whomever he can get close to.

And who is Samara Galen to me?

We were friends in elementary school, but drifted right after. Come eighth grade, I barely had any interaction with her until her mom died. I attended her mom's wake. That was the last time I had ever spoken to her before she committed suicide. Everyone knew Samara was a lot different in high school than she was in junior high before her mom died.

There's a rumor that Darius Blecker and Samara Galen were involved, that she was one of those girls he preyed on. Was their relationship connected to her death?

I can't really say. I'm as devastated as the rest of the student body over Samara. I hate to think about what could've pushed her to do such a terrible thing. It was a relief when the school year ended, because it had just been depressing. I've been trying to be supportive of those who need support and not listen to strange rumors. It was never my business. But now that it's August, I hope the school year to come next month has a fresh start.