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It Wasn't Me

An All American's Redemption Story.

By Rachael MacDonaldPublished 10 months ago Updated 10 months ago 9 min read
It Wasn't Me
Photo by Ethan Dow on Unsplash

One thing you need to know about me is this, I never lie.

With me, you get the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth, so help me, well I don’t believe in God, but you get the idea. Whether you like it or not. No weaselly denials from this guy. No sugar coating or lying to save your pretty little feelings. Want someone to make you feel better? Comfort you with the lies you tell yourself so you can sleep soundly at night? Find some other sad schlep. I got integrity. I have balls. I have the right to tell this story. And this story, my story, is a story of murder.

Not my murder, don’t worry, I am not a ghost or anything typing away in the attic of some unsuspecting family’s creepy mansion, clacking keys amid dusty boxes and a cloth-covered full-length mirror that wouldn’t show my shadow anyway.

Not me, I’m not the scaring children type. Not my style. I’m more of the baking cookies and reading a bedtime story while the parents party the night away until the wee hours of the morning type. And if the stories give the kids nightmares? Not intentional, I promise. I’ll even clean up the house a bit when you’re gone. That always gets a big tip.

I’m just me, regular ol’ me, living up my sixteen-year-old best life out in the rich suburbs of Pennsylvania. Not able to hurt a fly. Honest Abe they call me, even though my name is actually Ryan. But I don’t mind. It’s probably partly due to my long lanky limbs and the dark black mop I've got on my head. But the fact remains, I am oh so trustworthy, go on, ask anyone.

But as I said before, it’s not my murder, I’m perfectly safe, but Charlie, well that’s another matter.

A good kid, Charlie is, or I guess was now, full of spunk that only a fourteen-year-old can really show, you know what I mean right? His growth spurt came on late, one day just a small runt in the litter, but then in the course of one short summer, bam- he was hot stuff. A little show-offy if I am being totally honest, but my mamma always taught me to never speak ill of the dead, so, who am I to judge?

A great teammate too. This kid, if you can believe it, made the high school Jr soccer team straight out of middle school without even breaking a sweat. A star, I’ll tell ya, and I played with him as his left winger, going straight to the finals last year, and I passed him the winning goal too. It’s a shame what happened, really. Real potential tragically sliced short on the blade of a hunting knife. Screamed like a suckling pig from what I have heard, not that I would know, of course.

What a crock this world can be sometimes.

Now, for months leading up to the tragedy, me and Charlie became the best of friends. Ask all the other cronies that fawned over him like he was the God Adonis, yeah I’m smart, so what, and they’d tell you. They’d say we were as thick as thieves. Well actually maybe don’t. People can be quite mean after all, and what me and Charlie shared was special. He was my best bud, his golden hair bringing in all the older chicks, giving both of us the pick of the litter. Girls are funny like that, you know? Traveling in packs like hyenas, never even going to the bathroom by themselves. Geez, you would think that their shit doesn’t stink with the way that they carry themselves like queens of the world. At best, most of them would be lucky not to end up alone, crying into a snotty pillow every night.

I once saw him kiss a sophomore. It was probably about a month before his death. Becky, her name was, and man that girl had an ass that was out of this world. I told Charlie myself, I said, hey Charlie, check out that girl over there, she’s fit. And you know what that sly devil did? He just shrugged as if it wasn’t that impressive, that he didn’t care in the world. Ha! I’ll tell you what, everyone in school knew who Becky was and the only thing that would have even come close to Becky was her mom. Man, don’t get me started. You couldn’t count the guys hurrying up once the last bell rang to grab their shit from their locker and race outside for a peek at Mrs. O’Riley.

Not that Charlie would ever hurry. Nothing could ruffle that guy’s feathers that’s for sure.

Charlie, the shaggy blond cool kid, throws out one award-winning smile after another after making all the girls come to him. And, wouldn’t you know it, the next day I saw him and Becky O’Riley frenching in the library of all places. Not that it bothered me. I was happy for him, man, and it was time I ungraded my fantasies anyway. But that was Charlie, a real lady killer, man. Just like me.

But that is neither here nor there. I’m simultaneously getting sidetracked and ahead of myself at the same damn time. So, I digress.

You could say that ol’ Charlie boy and I were neighbors. His house sat on the edge of a decent-sized forest along the western edge of our pricey little town. And mine happens to be right on the other side. There are several game trails that run through the wood which I knew like the back of my hand. I’m quite an outdoorsy guy myself, don’t let my lean frame convince you otherwise. I’m a strong fucker who could handle a moose or two if they ever stepped my way. My dad was a marine, you see, and he taught me some cool military shit before being shipped out and getting his head blown off by some jihad bastards.

And so, about a year ago now, I was out hunting rabbits with my trusty BB gun, and he came crashing along on his new motorbike actually barrelling right into me. I could have jumped out of the way, sure, I saw him coming out of the corner of my eye, but I knew I could take the hit and be fine. Sometimes you have to do things like that, test your mettle. Don’t want to get too complacent and end up growing up to be a pussy.

Now, I have to admit I had seen him around a bit while out and about in the woods over the years, but he was just a scrawny kid back then. Not really worth my time, you know. And I didn’t even mind that he scared away the soft little bunny I had been stalking for several hours by then, nope not at all. I’m as laid back as they come. I just picked myself off of the forest floor and flung out my hand and introduced myself. Hey man, I’m Ryan I said, nice bike you got there. I got two myself in my four-car garage back home, of a better quality of course but yours isn’t bad I added to myself in my head because I am a gentleman like that, we should ride together sometime.

He was basically falling over me with his apologies too. Charlie in private, not that anyone would know from how he carried himself at school could be a real scared kid, really needing everyone to like him. But that’s what I liked about him. Attention never did much for me except annoy the shit out of me, so it worked out quite nicely the unspoken arrangement we made. Let him have the spotlight and I’d get to have all the perks without the hassle.

So being the badass that I am, I let him off easily. He asked me to go grab one of my bikes and we could run the paths together and build hills for extra danger. But my bikes were not meant to be used so carelessly, so I ended up following him back to his place to grab one of his.

School was starting that next week and he wanted to know all about high school. He needed all sorts of advice, you see. What teachers to avoid, what chicks to hunt, what classes to skip, the lot. And I was happy to help. Charlie seemed really grateful too. He wanted to go out for soccer and baseball, and I told him that he better just stick with one. He needed to keep some free time for other interests. You never know what could pop up in your life. Look at me for example, once a lone wolf, now strapped with being a mentor.

And he took my advice because I would never lie to him, obviously. Charlie practically begged me to try out with him at the soccer pitch and like a good friend I relented. This kid needed me, and I could definitely the potential.

I showed him my BB gun once we were back in his house, drinking the hot chocolate his mother brought to us on a silver fucking platter. Really, I can’t make this shit up. His mother was a dumpy sort of lady but was generous with her snacks and rarely bothered us, which was a real attribute. I could have sworn I saw Charlie boy’s hand shake when I first handed it over. Confidence would be slow to come for that one.

But, then I pulled out my silver Swiss army knife I got from my dad, sliding it smoothly from my jeans, its’ metal cool in my palm. That he took a liking to, I could tell. The way his eyes grew hungry and the glint of the blade sharp enough to puncture a cat. We were going to be fast friends for sure. I made a note then and there that I would do my damnedest to find him a similar one at some point. Which I did, I’ll have you know, but that comes later.

For now, the path between our houses continued to grow as our friendship, what started out as a thin line of promise, over time our boots pounding away at the growth into something you could ride two horses side by side on.

My mom offered to get me a horse last year. Really seemed into the idea if you'd ask me. Maybe it was one of her girlish childhood fantasies, getting a pony for a present, and she was just projecting her crap onto her only son. But I wasn’t into it. Why have one horsepower when my bike gave me one hundred? Exactly.

The weekend before school started I let his mom take me to the mall with him when he had to get some back-to-school threads. Ryan, please man, I want to be cool like you. Ryan, I need your help man, please. You can only hear so much of that shit before you actually feel sorry for the guy. So, I did what any other generous guy would do. I went with him. His mom dropped us off because it made her feel good to chauffeur us around and we weren’t assholes that would break a lady’s heart like that, and wouldn't you know it, in teary-eyed gratitude she gave Charlie her credit card. No limit she said. Just a nice lady I’ll tell ya. She even told me to pick up a few things for myself for helping out. I’m not a monster, so that is just what I did.

I had to, but don't worry, I was going to take him out on my dad's card next. Didn't get to, though.

So, with a whole new wardrobe, I got Charlie ready. The next year was going to be one of the best years of our life and we were going to crush it. Going to make it our bitch.

What is it that people always say at this stage? Oh right, it was the beginning of a beautiful (albeit short) friendship.

True CrimeYoung AdultThrillerMysteryMemoirHorrorFictionAutobiography

About the Creator

Rachael MacDonald

Avid Reader, Sometimes Poet, Occasional Writer, and searcher of truths often lost in the breaths between candy-coated lies.

Reader insights


Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!

Top insights

  1. Compelling and original writing

    Creative use of language & vocab

  2. Easy to read and follow

    Well-structured & engaging content

  3. Excellent storytelling

    Original narrative & well developed characters

  1. Heartfelt and relatable

    The story invoked strong personal emotions

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Comments (2)

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  • Test10 months ago

    Really great story. Ominous and a little creepy. It's a little too good, if you know what I mean. Gonna have to keep my eye on you, LOL 💙Anneliese

  • Kenny Penn10 months ago

    Ok please tell me there is another part coming? The way this story reads is fantastic! I love the sinister undertones of it, thanks for sharing!

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