Innocent

Chapter 2: Framed

"Man is not made for defeat."

~Ernest Hemingway

         "Me?" I felt small, pointing to myself.

        Through his ski mask, he grinned, a mad man enjoying his insanity. The man in the ski mask was silent as he entered the black van, and with a speedy getaway left. I was left alone with a dead body. The gun rested in my hand, the cool metal, sending shivers down my spine. My mind was a empty blank slate, as I fell to the floor, and treacherous tears began to fall down my face. I had just witnessed someone die right in front of face, I was lucky to escape myself. Don't cry, I demanded, as I wiped the tears from my face, and stood up. I needed a plan. Suddenly, I heard police sirens in the distance, and catharsis washed over me, like a waterfall of emotions. The police arrived at the scene, and pointed their guns at me. I suddenly realized my hand was still on the gun and the body was near me, within shooting distance. They thought it was me. Instantly, I dropped the gun and got on my knees. I yelled with desperation, "I didn't do it." The police, realizing I was no longer a threat, came towards me expectantly as if they thought I was going to attack. I approached the officer slowly, his black eyes examined me sharply, he kept his hand on his gun. "Officer thank goodness, your here. There was this man, and he kidnapped me from school, and shot this guy." I rambled pointing to the bloody body.

        The officer looked at the body, to the gun, to me. "I don't see any man." He pointed out.
I grew agitated, "He just left. You missed him, he left in a black van." I said. The officer nodded, as if to himself to say that I was crazy. "Tell that to the judge, see what she thinks. Your under arrest." The officer said roughly grabbing me, and placing handcuffs on my hands. He then proceeded to shove me into the back seat. He slammed the door, and entered the front seat and began to drive. I sighed, he wouldn't believe me. "Officer, please you have to believe me. I didn't kill anybody. The man in the ski mask, the guy who picked me from school. He drove me here. Then the guy in the suit showed up, and then he shot him, and handed me the gun. He said he was going to frame me. Officer please." I said shakily, tears started to stream down my face, "I didn't do it." The officers expression through the driver's window softened slightly. I could see belief in his eyes. "You believe don't you?" I said aloud. I saw the officer sigh, and then nod. "Yeah kid, I believe you, but it doesn't matter what I believe. Your story is crazy, and I can't just let you go. That dead body is real, and the dead body is also a senator. Trust me, that senator was richer than the president. Now that he's dead, things won't ever be the same."

        We both stood silent for the rest of the drive.

        My mind was elsewhere, as I processed this information. If the judge didn't believe me, then I was going to jail, for a long time, and for something I didn't do. "Help me, please. You can do something can't you?" The policeman was silent, "I wish I could, but I'm just a newbie. Maybe if I was a higher up I could try to help." Convincing the judge would be easy wouldn't it? I would just tell her my story, and then she would release me. I thought optimistically, even though the officer was right. Who would truly believe me? I barely believe myself. I sighed and leaned into the police car, and looked out the window. I asked the crucial question, the one, I didn't want answered.

        "Why me, Officer?" I asked him.

        His expression softened, "I don't kid. I don't know. The name's Thomas, by the way. You can call me Tom, everybody calls me Tom." He said trying to change the subject, and make me feel better. It was a hopeless attempt, but I smiled sadly at him. The chance of me going to jail, was extremely high. Even with that fact, I still had hope that good would prevail. "I'm Isabelle, you can call me Izzy, no one calls me Izzy." He chuckled slightly at that. "We're here. You have the right to a lawyer, and you have the right to remain silent." He said, going into serious-cop-mode. He opened the back seat door and motioned for me to come out. "I'm sorry, I have to take you in questioning Izzy." I smiled slightly, and replied "Do what you have to do, Thomas." I was lead into the questioning room, which reminded me of a metal cage. It was cloaked in metal with a square of glass, that was one way. Meaning they could see me, but I couldn't see them.

        The door opened, and a man came out.

        "Hello Isabelle." The man said, straightening his ocean blue tie. "My name is Agent Collins, you may know my son, Matthew. I was assigned to review your case. Let's get started, tell me what happened." His voice was cool, unyielding. He would have been relaxing, if it he did not have that unsympathetic look in his eyes.

        "Okay Mr. Collins." I took a breath.

        "Agent Collins." He corrected.

        "Agent Collins, I was called to the office, they told me my parents  had picked me up early, and they were waiting for me in the parking lot. I went to the parking lot, and I saw an empty parking lot and no van. All of a sudden, a man came out and pointed a gun at my head and told me to get in the van."

        "What did the man look like?"

        "He was wearing a ski mask, tall, and slightly muscular."

        "So the man pointed a gun at you and told you to get in the van. Why didn't you call for help?"

        "I didn't want to get shot."

        "Okay, please continue."

        "We drove in the van, and then he stopped at the alley."

        "Ahh.. Yes. The alley. Then what happened?"

        "The alley was abandoned, except for a black limo. Out of the limo, came the man who was shot."

        "I believe you are talking about Senator Kennish."

        "Yes the senator. He came out and asked the man in the ski mask who I was. The man in the ski mask, pulled out his gun and shot him. He then handed me the gun, and took off. Minutes later, the police arrived, and here I am."

        "Yes, here you are." Agent Collins pondered. The disbelief was still wild in his eyes.

        "You don't believe me, do you?" I asked him.

        "No I don't ." Agent Collins, stared at me, his eyes examining my soul. "I, Isabelle have worked for the FBI, since I was eighteen and never in my life, have I heard such a wild story from a child. Senator Kennish was a saint. He never did anything without thinking about the greater good. So the fact, your suggesting that he met with a criminal is utterly preposterous. Second of all, why you? Why would a criminal take you out of school, so he can have you watch the murder of a senator. You, Isabelle, are going to jail for a very long time, because no one will believe your lie in court. If you confess now, you can get a year off your sentence. Maybe more." 

        "I didn't do it!" I yelled. I was not going to jail for something I didn't do. This wasn't right. I couldn't let the man in the ski mask get away with it. I wouldn't let him get away with it ."Please you have to believe me!" I demanded like a child, because I was a child. Agent Collins started to walk away, I grabbed onto his arm before he could leave. "Please believe me." The look in his eyes was murderous. "Let go of me." Agent Collins said lowly, his voice dangerous. "You have killed my best friend, you sick child psychopath, and you come to me demanding you're innocent. You have the indecency to lie to my face. And grab my arm, like you're desperate and innocent. Well I hope you rot in prison. I hope everyone hates you. That you live the rest of your life, crumbling and becoming nothing that you live everyday on your knees, scraping for a morsel of food. In simple terms, for your deranged mind to understand, I hope you suffer."

        He left. Tears fell down my face slowly as I sobbed, my head against the table. The door cracked open. Thomas. He face was serious, he looked thirty even though I could tell that he was at most twenty five. I looked up at him. 

"It's time for your trial."