The Name is Holly

The Name is Holly - Part 1

          "Faster Ronnie" I screamed. The police were right behind us, just around the corner and down about half a block and were giving fast. We turned a corner and another, trying to lose them. I could hear the sirens slowly fading behind us.

          "That was to close. Next time we have to find a better place to sleep. One that's more secluded and not easy for some law abiding citizen to stumble across us sleeping." I stopped running so it was easier to talk, Ronnie stopped beside me.

          "Wait, whose turn was it to watch anyway?" I asked. Ronnie just shrugged, Ronnie never talked. There was nothing wrong with him, he just didn't talk.

          "Whatever, come on. Let's go find some other place to sleep." We started walking again heading towards downtown. The sun was slowly starting to set, taking everybody to sleep. I turned a corner leading the way out of uptown, Ronnie was walking right behind me. The past few nights we had spent uptown, where Ronnie and I used to live, before the murder.

          What had happened was that we were at Ronnie's birthday party. I , of course, was invited, being Ronnie's best friend and all. Everybody was upstairs partying while I had gone downstairs into the basement. I was looking for something I had left behind the previous day when Ronnie and I had been playing with his younger sibling's. I flicked on the light switch and started down the steps. But about halfway down the blub burnt out and I was left seeing black. 'Oh well' I thought and continued on.  I was searching on the floor now, sweeping my hands along the floor.

          I was moving around a pile of boxes when I felt something warm and sticky on the floor. A few seconds later, I came across the body. Turns out it had been blood I had felt on the floor, so when I went upstairs all everybody saw was the blood on my hands. The police were called and I was held for questioning. Ronnie had gone to the police station with me for support and I noticed him looking a bit flushed and he kept on rubbing his neck. I asked him about it but he just shook his head. The police couldn't find the murderer or the murder weapon, but I had found the weapon. The weapon was what I had gone into the basement for in the first place. It was my toy gun; the handle was covered in blood and hair. I stashed it in a secret hole in the wall that only Ronnie and I knew about.