CELLMATES.
Part One
The jail cell was gloomy. It was already a pretty grey night, but, this by far, made it way worse. My cellmate, Lily Winslow, who was another innocent victim, was fast asleep on the top bunk. But, I however, couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about how this last month really screwed me over. I stood beside the bunk, holding onto the railing around the top bunk. Tears were streaming down my face. I sat down on the squeaky, lower bunk mattress and buried my head inside my hands. I thought again about the month before and grew angry. I stood up once again, and walked over to the grey, desgusting jail cell bars, and shook them, trying to unlock the locks on the door, or to convince someone to let me free. It was useless, everyone was asleep, and the guards were too busy making sure that no one escaped the dark, empty room. It was just around midnight. I began to cry again. I never deserved to be here. It was a huge misunderstanding and a big mistake.
I'll be completely honest, and tell you how I got here.
I am a complete loner. Exept, my one friend, Emily Briscoe. I also have dyslexia, so that makes school hard. Everybody thinks I'm a freak with the learning ability of a sixth grader and the attention spand and patience of a third grader. I was born in december and started school early. I am 17 years old and in grade 11.
Anyways, about a month ago, Emily and I were walking home one day, and we saw a dark van rolling down the street. Suddenly, the van stopped and a man pulled us inside. Another man tied us up and put gags over our mouths. He told us not to talk, and threatened us with a knife if we said a word. We took a long ride. And then we suddenly stopped in a dark alley. The knife man opened the van doors and let us out. He took off the gags, and before I could yell for help, he covered my mouth and threatened me with the knife again. “Look girls. I'm just trying to cover my own butt here!” he began to explain. “Okay. I'm serious. I've done a crime. What else to do but blame it on two innocent, but guilty looking high school girls?” the man said with a slight chuckle. My mouth was still covered by his greasy, man hands. I tried to mumble that he had no right, but all he did was shut me out. “I was driving down the streets looking for someone like you.” He pointed at me with a stare. “A troubled school girl. Haha.” Then he went on. “I ain't doin' no bad, I just don't want no small murder going on a criminal record. I need my reputation more then nobody else here on this damn planet, you hear me!” he raised his knife again and pointed it in the direction of Emily. Emily winced. He lowered his knife and put it away on his belt. I could tell he was planning on murdering us if we pulled anything, but then realized that it would effect him even more. The man forced the knife into my hand then opened the van doors once again. As he turned around, he didn't realize that he had dropped his wallet. Emily quickly noticed this and picked it up without the man realizing that she had it. The criminal grabbed the keys out of the driver's hand and opened up the trunk. Inside was a man's dead body. I cried for help again, thinking to myself that leaving me un gagged was just plain stupid. The dead man was covered in blood. I couldn't help but ask myself how he killed him.The man that had the knife was in the driver seat with the keys and the driver was still outside with us. Suddenly, the knife man left with the car leaving us behind. The knife he left with me was bloody. I instantly dropped it, but the blood was on the handle as well, so it got all over my left hand. It was so gross! The driver ran after the van, but it was too late. After the van's humming sound was out of earshot, the driver fell down on his knees and began sobbing. I walked over to him and asked what was wrong. The driver stood up and went over to the body. He turned to me and said “My name's Gordon Thicke. That man is bad bad news girls. That dead man on the ground was my stepbrother Benji Lawrence. I can't-belive..” Gordon started crying again. I knealed down to comfort him. “I'm Torey Dewherst. and this is my best friend Emily. It's very nice to meet you Gordon. Now, tell us your story.” Gordon smiled and said “Well, 2 years ago I met that man. I thought he was a lonely homeless man who needed a family. It turns out he was a con artist and drug attict, who had the tendancy to get violent and nasty. He escaped rehab and came to us, hoping he could use us as a cover and live the way he used to. He hated rehab. Me, Benji and my other real brother, Logan, all live in a house nearby the rehab center. It's the only affordable thing in this city, and we wanted to live somewhere near here, so that was it.” I interrupted. “Wait, what's this man's name?” I asked. “Brent. That's all I know. We never found out his last name.” I nodded and told him to carry on. “Anyway, he had no clothes. Only a pair of sweatpants, a tatterd shirt and a dirty sweatshirt. We invited him in, which was our first mistake. He lived with us for 2 whole years and just in this past year, he started to show his true self. Behind our backs, the entire time he lived with us, he would buy drugs and cigarettes and booze with OUR money. Benji found out one day. A couple of weeks ago, Benji cut him off and Brent obviously went into rage mode. So he murdered him. I came home and he had a bloody knife in his hand.” I stopped him again. “The one that I had?” I asked surprisingly. “Yes. I believe so. Anyway, when I walked in, Brent pushed me out the door and forced me back into my van. The rest is history.” Gordon replied. We didn't know what to do next because we had a dead body, bloody knife and no car. My first instinct was to run but Gordon still had tears streaming down his pale face. I understand. I would feel that way too. If I had any siblings, and they got murdered by a psycho drug addict. Wouldn't you?
