Short Snippet Saturday

Today, I'm posting something different. This semester I'm in creative writing, and for our final, we have to write a 40 page short story, so for the next couple of weeks, I'm going to post that.
Just a quick run down. This story was partly inspired by the Arizona shootings and I'll let you find out the rest.

“Miss Adams, you do realize that we will need a written statement from you,” the police officer says. The words seem like a question, but the way he says it tells me I have no option into what I’m about to do.
            “Yes, sir, I do.” I hope he can’t tell how nervous I am. How afraid I am. Sean is in here somewhere, sitting in a cell.
            “Let me get you paper and something to write with so you can begin,” he says. He flips through a file, probably Sean’s, gives me a quick nod, and he’s gone.
            So, here I am, sitting here, waiting to tell my story about everything that has happened. I’m the only one who knows what has really happened, except for Sean, but he’ll do everything he can to cover his tracks.
            Outside, I can hear the quiet buzz of a TV. It’s probably on Fox, or CNN, running the breaking news coverage about what happened. They’re probably racing on their way to the fairgrounds, where it all happened. There’ll be blood on the stage, but not nearly as much blood as Sean would want there to be. He wanted Governor Perry dead, and he would have killed the governor if it weren’t for me.
            “Miss Adams, are you ready to begin?” the officer asks. She’s holding a packet of paper and a box of pens. How long do they expect my statement to be?
            “Miss Adams, when you write this, I want you to go as far back as you can. From when you first realized that Mr. Lewis was planning to assassinate the governor, all the way up to this morning’s events. Do you understand me?”
            I nod, what else can I do? “Yes ma’am.”
            “Alright. You have as much time as you need, and if you need anything, press this button.” She holds up a small, red button and places it on the table. She pushes the paper and pens at me. “You can begin.”
            She turns around and walks out, and once again I’m left in silence.
            Since I’m all alone, and I know they won’t let me out until I finish, I guess there’s only one thing to do: Tell them my story.

            “I’ll be there in a minute,” Sean called out from his car. “Go on in.”
            “Alright,” I said. I ran to the door and unlocked it, anxious to get out of hot, Texas sun. Even at ten in the morning, it was too hot.
            The door opened and I dropped my bag on the floor and kicked off my shoes. I took a moment to enjoy the air conditioning before I walked into the kitchen.
            “Can you believe this?” he asked as he walked in. “My parents are gone for two months and I get this place all to myself.”
            “Lucky you,” I said. Sean was an only child, living alone for the summer before he went off to college. I, on the other hand, was the oldest of four kids, and I’d still be stuck here after summer for my senior year in high school.
            “Yeah, I know.” He grinned. “But, we’ll have fun this summer before I leave, I promise.”
            The phone rang and he looked at the caller ID. He picked up. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said.
            He walked off and left me alone. Sean and I had only been dating for a month and a half, but I’d been here enough days after school to know where everything was. It was like my second home now. In a way, I liked Sean’s house more than mine. It was smaller and cozier than my house.
            “Hey, Morgan!” Sean called.
            I turned around to look at him. “Yeah?”
            “I have to go run a quick errand. It’ll only take twenty minutes. Do you want me to take you home or would you rather just wait here?”
            “I can wait here. I mean, if it’s only twenty minutes.”
            “Yeah, it’ll be really fast.” He leaned over and picked his keys up off the counter. “I’ll be right back.” He gave me a quick kiss and started to walk off. “Oh, I think your jacket is in my bedroom, if you want to look for it. See ya’ later,” he said.
            I grabbed a glass of water and walked into his bedroom to start looking for my jacket. I opened the door and rolled my eyes. I couldn’t imagine how Sean lived in such a dump. There were clothes everywhere, and papers crammed into drawers if there was room.
            I found a clean napkin and stuck my glass of water on it. Unsure where to start, I picked up his shirt and began cleaning.
            Ten minutes later, Sean had a stack of neatly folded clothes on his bed and I was almost done with organizing his papers. The few pages I’d actually stopped to read had meaningless stuff, like one algebra problem, on them.
            I opened the drawer to stick them in there and there was another stack, this one neat and orderly. I picked it up and placed it on the desk while I stuck the other ones in the drawer. I grabbed the stack and sat in the chair to begin reading.
            The notes were unlike the others. They were violent; they were detailed. There were mentions of murder, of guns and having to buy bullets. There was a list of things needed to escape and live out in the woods for a few days: water, a blanket, food, cash, a fake ID. What was he planning to do?
            None of this made any sense; this wouldn’t be something he’d do. Sean wasn’t a violent person. I flipped to the back page.
            It was a letter, or not really a letter, but a self-note.  I scanned through it. It was a letter explaining how he was frustrated with the government because they couldn’t balance the budget and the school’s education system was going down the tube. He said he had a simple way to fix all of it.
            Sean thought God wanted him to help Texas, and then go on and help the country. Sean was ready to die to do this. He said so, in the letter. It was almost a suicide letter.
            Sean wasn’t suicidal. He was one of the least suicidal people I knew. None of this seemed right, not for Sean. Why would he want to do this? No, he wouldn’t want to do this. This was some big misunderstanding. It had to be.
            But, what if this wasn’t just a big misunderstanding. People just didn’t write notes about this for fun. They just didn’t. Sean was hiding something from me that much I knew. And, it didn’t take a genius to figure out why he wanted to hide his secret from me.
            He wanted to kill Governor Perry.

love, lala


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