He sat emotionless in his room, hardly believing what He had done, but it had been done. He half smiled to himself, wondering how He had gotten away, but He had. There was an eeriness that filled the air, a mixture of hope and despair.
He had been deserted to do the task, a task that required only the mind of one, the mind of a genius. H e finally managed to get up and walk out into the cold night, seeing for the first time, the true beauty in the world. His life was completed now, nearly.
More work had to be done, because time was being erased from him. Knowing that one day he would be caught, but that day was not here yet. The images of his young friend, flashed in his mind. A mind now so haunted by new ideas of the past.
He sighed, and paced the balcony, staring out aimlessly in front of him, wondering where to go from here. Was his destiny worth it? Was it worth removing from this world, the lives of two men, who claimed to be his friends? He nodded to himself, it definitely was.
For ten years, he had lived beside them, working so close and yet so far. They had become like brothers. Brothers who changed not only themselves but the face of time as well.
The ringing of the phone seemed to go on forever, his thoughts raced for space. He looked at the phone, a message was being delivered, a message of possibly hope. He reached over, his hand trembling ever so lightly.
“Hello?” his voice sounded harsh; unlike he’d ever heard it. The silence on the other end rang through his ears like the tolls of an endless bell.
“Are you alone?” The voice on the other end echoed.
He nodded, “I am. Where were you guys tonight?” The anger in his voice rose, like the sea on a stormy day.
“Sorry, things came up,” the other voice replied, and he frowned.
“What was more important than this?” He hissed, his words spreading out over time.
“We don’t have to do this,” the voice replied, and he shuddered at the thought.
“Don’t you want it like I do?” He asked, his voice becoming more and more adamant.
“I do, but not this way,” the other voice now seemed teary and hopeless.
“What other way it there?” He was curious to know.
“I don’t know, but it has to be better,” the other voice replied, now more composed, “The police are looking. Looking for you.” Before he could say anything else the line went dead, and he was left alone. Alone to run further away than he wanted to.
He drove faster and faster, each turn taking him down a new path. His ears filled with the sounds of tears, tears of the world he once loved. He did not know where he was going, he just was going away.
His heart beat fast, and with each beat his speed went up. He knew he had to leave, leave to a safe place. Somewhere where no one would find him, where no one would know him.
He did not want to be known now, but he’d wanted it to be. How ironic, he thought, something I wanted I can not have. The chain of events he had unfolded was turning on him, like hounds searching for the fox.
He was that fox, but not as cunning as he would have liked. His plan had folded over, into complicated creases. Creases that could not be ironed out over time, for there was no time.
Time was the chaser now, creeping up on him, like vines creeping up the walls. He finally reached the place where he might be safe. A place so far away no one knew it existed.
In his loneliness he wished, wished for his days to end. He had wanted this, yes, but now he felt guilty. He had ruined his own life, for his fate, a fate he didn’t want to have anymore.
He sat alone in a house that was old and creaky, just as he felt once. His mind wandered near and far, searching for himself and for everything else that he did not know.
He found that he really had never known himself. He had been clouded by illusions, illusions of money and life. A life that he was taking for granted, and now he could not have back.
He realized that he wanted it back, more than anything. But he could not have it, and to him that was what was destroying him. His whole soul felt destroyed, he no longer had his friend to comfort him. It was all for his dream, his dream that now had no meaning, for he felt the error lay within him.
His head pounded with the blame, the fault of what he had done. He regretted it more than ever now, and wished that he’d not had those thoughts. However, he knew he could not turn himself in, no matter what.
He did not try and call anyone; for he knew then he would be found if he did. He would have to then live a life of solitude, a seclusion that he had already felt for too long.
He walked up and down the halls of the old house, and each step he took he heard a groan. A groan that reminded him of what he had done. He tried to figure out how he could get out of the mess he had created for himself.
It was huge, and dirty like a monster that had no boundaries. Every possible opening was haunted with the ghost of his dead friend. He finally sat down on the broken wicker chair and put his head in his hands. Trying to rid himself of the spirits that greeted his eyes.
He shook his head and leaned his head back; hoping that one day this would all disappear. Disappear like his friend had, to a place where there was no turning back.
The knocking grew louder and louder, and he rose from his sleep. He yawned and stretched, wondering where he was and what he was doing. The knocking continued, and he slowly got up. He walked to the door, his body pained from the night of uneasy sleep.
He yawned again as he paused, wondering if he should answer. Who could it be? His mind searched for answers, but none came. He straightened himself out as he opened began to open the old door. Each inch his curiosity grew.
Finally it stood open, and in the darkened frame, two men in blue asking him endless questions. He nodded, in each answer. He knew there was no point turning back. Why where they here, he had no clue, but he let them take him.
They led him out of the old and creaky house and into their car. His hands behind his back, they pushed him in. No compassion was shown to him, just coldness. He sat in the back, staring out into emptiness, knowing where he was going.
As the car pulled away from the ancient house one of the men turned to him and said, ‘So you thought you could get away from it eh? You thought you could get away from murdering Justin Timberlake? Honestly Mr Kirkpatrick, what were you thinking?”
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