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  Part Two: The Confession

  Okay, I wasn’t entirely honest when I said I didn’t know why Benjamin wanted me dead. At least I had an idea, even though I didn’t believe it was a good enough reason to want to put an end to someone’s life.

  I believed it all happened on the day I was walking back home from a friend’s house. There was a lemon-green car parked two blocks away from my house. It was the color of the car that caught my attention, but when I looked into it, something else piqued my interest. There were two people in it. I couldn’t see their faces, but I noticed that they were locking lips intensely. I knew I should have walked away at that moment, but I couldn’t just turn my back on a free show, especially a live one.

  I pulled out my cell phone from my front pocket, and with three clicks, I started recording the show. The pair started from kissing, to smooching, then to the main deal. Before I knew it, the front seats were reclined, almost touching the floor, shirts were flying in the air, and pants were pulled down. Then came the full action. I zoomed in and continued recording the scene.

  The car windows were gradually becoming misty, but the video quality was good, so I kept it rolling. I watched with wide-open eyes as the two of them had a crazy ten-minute session in the car. After their session, they collapsed beside each other, as they took deep breaths. I was still filming and watching them on my phone when I noticed they had stopped moving. I then looked up at them, and it seemed as though the guy was staring at me.

  I was a bit scared, because I didn’t know if they had realized that I was filming them, and I didn’t want to get caught. So I quickly stopped recording, put the phone on my ear, and acted as if I was talking to someone. The plan worked, because they both suddenly looked at me for a brief moment before turning back to look at each other. They weren’t able to tell that I had watched them all through. It was probably too dark to see the nervous expression on my face or even make out my features because of the hat I had on.

  Luckily for me, our eyes didn’t meet when I walked past their car. And as I continued down the street, I felt them looking at me until I disappeared into the next street. I thought it wise to slip away from their gaze, or from an attempt to run me over if they suspected anything. I was still one block away from home, but I needed the diversion, even though it meant me walking an extra fifteen minutes. When I got home, I needed to pee badly, but the bathroom door was locked. I banged and banged on it repeatedly, and as usual, there was no answer.

  “Damn you, Aggie!” I yelled. “I don’t know why you never want to use the mirror in your room, but this is getting ridiculous.”

  I danced all the way to Samuel’s bedroom, twisting my legs together, with a heavy bladder that was getting ready to erupt, and he clearly told me to get lost. He said he didn’t want me to use his toilet or even enter his room, because he wanted his room to remain tidy for Lexie.

  I didn’t know what he meant by “remain tidy,” but that statement really pissed me off, and I detested Lexie immediately. Anyway, I told myself I was going to have to deal with that issue much later, because any form of hating, or rage was sure to speedup the bladder eruption I felt was going to happen at any moment.

  I ran to my folks’ bedroom and tried to open the door. It was locked. That was weird, given that I had just seen their cars in the driveway when I was walking back home. I banged on the door a few times, and as loud as possible. I waited for an answer, but I got none.

  It didn’t take long before I heard some noise coming from inside their room, but then it went dead silent almost immediately. That didn’t fool me, though. I banged repeatedly again, and it was even louder than the first few bangs, until someone finally decided to talk to me.

  “Who’s that trying to bang our door down?”

  “Dad, it’s Angie,” I replied. “I need to use your toilet, please. And don’t tell me to wait for Aggie or go to Sam’s.”

  “Then go to the guest toilet, Angie. Your mom and I are trying to get some sleep.”

  “Yeah, right. Sleep my foot,” I said to myself. It wasn’t even seven in the evening yet, and it was a Saturday. So there was absolutely no way on earth they could have been trying to sleep. As I stood there, my bladder already started to punch me in the gut. I couldn’t just give up and walk away. The only other option was to go outside and do my business behind our house, in full view of the five houses that circled ours. Thanks, but no thanks!

  “The pipe broke some two months ago, remember?” I asked, wondering how he could have forgotten about that. “Besides, the fix-it guy said we shouldn’t use the guest toilet until further notice,” I added, and waited impatiently.

  “Dad?” There was no answer. “C’mon, Dad!” Total silence. “Please, Dad! My bladder is going to—”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Angie!” Dad interrupted me, irritation in his tone.

  I heard him stand up, and after taking his time, he came toward the door and yanked it open. “You have only two minutes to do your business and run off,” he said, then clapped his hands, signaling for me to move it.

  “Roger that!” I replied, saluting him with two fingers, as I scampered toward the toilet.

  Mom was on the bed, with the covers pulled up neck high. I didn’t want to imagine what I had interrupted, but I was glad they had thought of locking the door. I didn’t want to be given any nickname by having another Samuel-like incidence added to my list. The only difference would have been me walking in to see the full scene, and having a weird image of my folks from then on.

  “Thanks, Dad. My bladder also thanks you dearly for saving it,” I said, throwing him a soft and grateful smile as I walked out of their bedroom. “And enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  “Oh, we definitely will!” Dad said, mischief in his eyes. Mom started giggling at his reply.

  Ewww! I walked out quickly and slammed the door shut behind me.

  “And make sure you lock the door,” I said, and marched off. I didn’t want to walk into any disturbing scene if my bladder started to trouble me again, because the one I recorded on my phone was enough to last me the whole year.

  Just then, I remembered I was yet to lay back and enjoy my new video. I grinned and rubbed my hands together at the thought of that. As I walked toward my room, I removed my sweater and the matching bright-pink hat I had on, freeing my hair that I had held up in a bun. But as I reached for my bedroom doorknob, I heard the front door bell. I quickly opened my door and flung my things in, before going to check who was at the main door.

  I looked through the peephole, but before I could see who it was, three very loud and heavy bangs on the door pushed my head back.

  “Lexie! That wasn’t funny,” I reproached, as I opened the door. “You knew I was looking through the peephole, didn’t you?”

  “Sorry, Aggie,” she said, unremorsefully, and walked past me. “You took your time.”

  “And it’s Angie, not Aggie!” I corrected. She had been a regular face at my house for more than six months, but she still couldn’t tell the difference between Agnes and I.

  “Yeah, whatever! It’s the same to me,” she said, as she headed toward Samuel’s bedroom.

  “And who are you?” I asked, and blocked the door with my arm, scrutinizing the young guy that attempted to walk in a few seconds after Lexie.

  “Umm, my name’s Benjamin Clay,” he replied, staring at me and smiling like it was love at first sight.

  “Okay, but who are you here to—”

  “Let him in,” Lexie said from the hallway, interrupting me. “He’s my cousin.”

  I stepped aside and motioned for him to enter and take a seat. Then I shut the front door and went straight to my room. I jumped into my bed and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. I inserted my earphone into the port, and I immediately started watching my new video.

  Halfway through it, I heard some noise coming from the hallway, so I paused the video and went to check it out. I peeped through the keyhole and saw Lexie. It was
obvious that she had just finished a quick session with Samuel. She was creeping out of his room, holding her bra in one hand, and her tank top in the other. She stopped to put them on, and I noticed black ink on her back. I looked closely at the ink, then immediately looked at my phone again.

  “Oh, my goodness!” I exclaimed, in a whisper.

  Lexie had the same black rose tattoo on her back as the girl in the video I recorded. It could only mean one thing: Neighborhood slut was doing it with her cousin, Benjamin Clay. It was the best discovery I had ever made, because if the video were to be released, it would break Samuel and Lexie up for good. I liked the thought of that, so I knew exactly what to do with the video. I quickly sent it, along with nametags to someone we all nicknamed The Informant. It was none other than the foul-mouthed Mary-Kate Pearson.

  Before I could put my phone down in total satisfaction of my handiwork, I started receiving a lot of notifications. The video had already gone viral, and within a week, it caused havoc in Lexie’s home, neighborhood, and school. But the only thing I had expected to happen didn’t. Samuel didn’t care about the video, or about Lexie’s loose ways; he still glued himself to her, like bee to fresh honey.

  As far as I know, leaking the video was the only thing that could have linked me to Lexie and Benjamin, and caused an issue between us. The only contradiction was that Mary-Kate never gave out her sources to anyone.

  So we were back at the police station, Benjamin Clay handcuffed and escorted into the building by Detectives Slaughter and Pruitt. We all followed them to see how everything would play out, especially the motive behind Benjamin’s action. A part of me was scared, because if my folks found out that the video I had recorded and my childish behavior had motivated Benjamin, I would be in serious trouble. But then again, it could have been a different motive altogether.

  Detective Pruitt led us through a door to watch the interrogation behind a one-way mirror, while Detective Slaughter handled Benjamin, pushing him into the interrogation room and forcing him to sit down. After all four of us were settled in the viewing room, Detective Pruitt left the room briefly. A few minutes later, he returned with another officer and... Lexie!

  Lexie ran up to Samuel and hugged him. “Thanks for calling me, babe. I came here as fast as I could.” She turned to look at Detective Pruitt. “Why the hell are you holding Benjy?”

  Detective Pruitt ignored her question and said, “This officer will stay here with you all until the interrogation is over.” He walked out and slammed the door behind him.

  Lexie turned to look at my folks, but they frowned at her without saying a word. They were probably very angry that she was in the same room as us, after her cousin had murdered their daughter. She then looked at me, but I gave her an icy stare until she looked away. Just then, Detective Pruitt entered the interrogation room and the questioning began.

  “You obviously intended to kill a girl,” Detective Slaughter said, “But you ended up killing her twin sister instead. So my question is: Why did you want to kill anyone in the first place?”

  “What? I didn’t even know there was a twin involved,” Benjamin replied, sounding lost. “I was never given that information.”

  “And who was supposed to give you the information?”

  Probably realizing he had slipped and given out an unknown accomplice, Benjamin adjusted himself in the chair and said, “I wasn’t aware she was a twin, I meant to say.”

  “Look here, boy. If you don’t start telling us the truth right now, you are going to spend the rest of your life in prison. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Benjamin didn’t like the sound of that. He looked back and forth at the detectives, fear in his eyes, and sweat trickling down his forehead. “Yes, I understand what you are saying.” He nodded. “And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in prison.”

  “Then start talking! Why did you want to kill Angela Hunter?” Detective Slaughter banged his fist on the interrogation table, breathing furiously.

  “Wait, Angela? I thought her name was Agnes? I was supposed to kill Agnes.”

  Behind the one-way mirror, we all looked at each other in utter confusion. And there I was, thinking I had just escaped death, but then Benjamin was implying that Agnes was the target. Mom held her hands over her mouth, tears dropping from her eyes. Dad pulled her closer and held her on the shoulders, squeezing them gently. Samuel was emotionless. It was hard to tell what he was feeling. Lexie had one hand on her hip and the other hand on her forehead. One thing was for sure: we were all confused, worried, and eager to hear the end of the story.

  I was distracted and shaken out of my deep thought when Detective Pruitt lifted Benjamin up with one hand and slammed him against the wall. “Tell us what we need to know right now or this will be the last time you’ll ever be able to look up at the sky!”

  Detective Pruitt was undoubtedly full of surprises. He hadn’t said a single word since the beginning of the interrogation, but now he happened to be the mean bully. No one understood what he meant by his threat, but it sure made Benjamin so scared that he trembled.

  “Ohey, ohey,” Benjamin said, trying to breathe. “Haw suhl.”

  “What the hell did you say?” Detective Pruitt asked, maintaining his firm grip on Benjamin.

  “Haw suhl. Haw—”

  “Let go of his fucking throat, will you?” Detective Slaughter butted in. “He sounds like a dying frog.”

  Detective Pruitt let go of Benjamin’s neck, and he dropped on his knees, holding his neck with both hands and coughing with difficulty.

  “What the hell was all that croaking about, boy?” Detective Slaughter asked.

  “In case you didn’t notice, Detective Dinosaur here had his limbs around my neck. Even you would sound like a dying frog if your neck was squeezed,” Benjamin said, and paused briefly, finally catching his breath. “I was trying to say ‘okay, I’ll talk.’”

  “So quit wasting our time and talk already!” Detective Slaughter barked.

  “First of all,” Detective Pruitt cut in. “What were the roles of those boys in the murder? Or should I say, the roles of your accomplices?”

  Benjamin looked at them with confusion plastered on his face. “I don’t understand what you mean. What boys are you talking about?”

  Detective Pruitt banged his hand on the table, then banged on it repeatedly after every word he said. “Stop (bang) joking (bang) us (bang) around (bang)!” he yelled, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He composed himself after a few seconds, then sighed before opening his eyes to look at Benjamin. “Bill Newman and Gregory Kindle? I believe they are friends of yours.”

  “I’ve never heard those names before,” Benjamin replied, looking back and forth at the four angry eyes staring at him. “I swear. I don’t know who they are. I only come around here once in a while, and besides, I only talk with...” he cleared his throat, “...with girls when I’m here.”

  “Well, we found their fingerprints on the knife you used to slash Agnes’s wrist. Do you care to tell us how the prints got on the knife?”

  “How am I supposed to know that? I have no idea. You are the experts!”

  “Think, dammit. Think!” Detective Pruitt said, almost reaching to grab Benjamin again.

  “Okay, okay. I remember now.” Benjamin shut his eyes and started to mumble. “I met her at a get-together earlier that evening, and we talked briefly. She said she wanted her dead before picking up a napkin, wrapping it around a knife, and pulling it out of the cake. She then wiped off the cake particles and gave me the knife.” He opened his eyes when he finished talking.

  “You are not making any sense,” Detective Slaughter said. “Who wanted her dead?”

  “Agnes, the girl behind the closed door!” Benjamin replied.

  “We know that, stupid,” Detective Pruitt said. “But who wanted her dead?”

  Benjamin lifted his face and looked Detective Pruitt in the eyes. Then he moved his gaze to Detective Slaughter befo
re looking at the wall where the one-way mirror was situated.

  “Who the hell wanted Agnes dead? Dammit!” Detective Pruitt yelled, and banged his fist on the table.

  “It was my cousin, Lexie Smith!” Benjamin spat out. “She wanted Agnes dead, not me.”

  Detective Pruitt immediately ran into the room where we were all standing and watching the interrogation. But just like us, he was also very shocked to discover that Lexie was not in the viewing room anymore. She was gone! We didn’t know exactly when she snuck out, but she had already exited the building. And the pursuit for her began.