Justify His Murder

Memory

   I had been only 17. It was a cousin's 21st birthday and of course, she wanted to have it in a club. But she also wanted me to be there. There was an apparent problem there. Not in her eyes, though. She snuck me in. I still can't remember how it all happened. Most of it was a blur. That is until everything started to pave its way to my destruction.

  I was so scared at getting caught. Any time someone opened the door, I was sure it'd be my mom or an officer coming to drag me out by the curls my cousin had worked so hard on. It was hell. I couldn't calm down for one second. My cousin was getting fed up.

  "Go get her a drink." She waved her boyfriend away with her hand.

  "No, no. I'm good. Don't do that." I shook my head and I guess he thought I was joking. Or maybe he couldn't hear me over the deafening music. Either way, he kept walking away. No big deal, I thought to myself, I just won't drink it. And that's what happened.

  He brought back a cup of something that had a disgusting color and set it down in front of me. I pretended to drink some to get my cousin and her friends off of my back. Why did I agree to go? I should've never gone. I just wished I could be home, listening to my music with my face buried in my dog's fur. But every time I brought up the idea of leaving, someone laughed it away. They thought I was joking. Because of course I'd want to be there. What teenager doesn't want to be hanging out with cool older people in cool forbidden places? Well, I'm sure almost all of them.

 It just got worse when they all paired off and went to go dance. I was alone, vulnerable as I guarded their stuff at the table. Of course...I realized. That's why she wanted me here. I'd be her guard dog. And at that point, it didn't matter if that was the real reason she wanted me here. It seemed real in my head. Like a boiling pot, I could feel anger rising.

 It kept building and building. The final straw was when her boyfriend came back to hand me her phone asking me to take videos for her.

 "Seriously?" I asked.

 "Come on, Morgan. Do it for your cuz." His voice was slurred. One word tripped over another, leaving them all in a messy pile.

 "Look, tell my 'cuz' I'm leaving. I have better things to do." I shoved the phone back into his hands and left. Just left. Genius, right? I didn't want to be there so I exited the situation? I was out of danger and safely on my way home.

  Things can always seem perfect until they aren't. Nobody followed me out of the club. Nobody chased me down and offered to give me a ride. I guess my 'cuz' was so drunk she couldn't even remember that I was only 17, without a car and without a ride. And that's when he came. He could only be about 20, I guessed.

  Hair like honey sat pompously on his head. And his eyes. To this day, I've never forgotten his dark eyes. They were closer to black than they were to dark brown and so sharp. They watched your every move. But in the pitch black of night and with his breath smelling clean of alcohol, he tapped my shoulder. Whirling around, I expected a squad car with flashing lights. I expected an officer to shine a flashlight in my face and demand to know where I was coming from and to see some ID. Maybe I'd have been safer if it was.

  "Need a ride?" He drawled, an accent. I remembered the accent. It was one of those Southern accents that sounded like they could be from anywhere.

  "No thanks. I'm just- I'm heading to my...my mom's waiting for me." I tried to sound confident. If he knew my mom was waiting for me, he wouldn't try anything. That was my logic from watching so much Forensic Files at 3 am.

  "Don't worry. I'll get you there fast. I don't want anything to happen to you." He pointed to his car. It was a white Nissan with plenty of bumper stickers. I guess the Kennedy effect is real because I can still remember half of them. And I saw one that was paw prints. Paw prints. Could this man be so bad if he had paw print bumper stickers? I guessed not.

  "Okay.. I'll just text her to let her know..." I pulled out my phone and pretended to write a text to my mom. Of course I wasn't. She was working a graveyard shift at the hospital and would kill me if she knew I was out at this time.

  "Perfect." He waited so patiently for me to finish with my bad acting job. Even opened the car door for me. I contemplated sitting in the front seat, but decided that maybe it was safer not to be so close to him.

  "Is it okay if I sit in the back? I just- I get motionsick and I wouldn't want to...make it worse." I came up with the lamest excuse and he went with it. He seemed willing to just "go" with anything I lied about. So there we went. Off, away from the club. I turned back, hoping to see my cousin running out. To see her flag down the car, pull me out, walk me home instead. But she wasn't there.

  As soon as we got a street away, I knew I made a mistake. He kept watching me in the mirror and his eyes darted away whenever I looked at him.

  "You just have to go two streets straight and then one left and I can walk the rest." I made up fake directions. I didn't want him to know where I was going. He nodded, but dismissively rather than of understanding.

  I don't have to tell you he didn't go that way. He made a couple turns and went a lot farther than I had asked.

  "Sir, you're not-" I spoke up, but then stopped. Hot tears met my cheeks as I shut up. I realized it was no use trying to complain. He knew he was going the wrong way. He knew exactly what he was doing.

  "Please let me out here." I whispered. He ignored me, pulling into an empty parking lot.

   And it happened. And I did end up walking home. In a daze. I got lost. Like he stole even my sense of direction.