By Xin Shao – Contributor
I wanted to tell the truth; I did it. I am walking to the police station, neither fast nor slow. I look up to the sky and tell myself, “That’s right. The innocent will get out of jail.”
This might be the third thing that goes right in my life. Of course, one of these things is that I met him. Before I tell this story, I have to draw a picture that reveals a secret.
April 4. I still remember this date. Everything outside was turning green to welcome the nice weather. After finishing the prolonged winter, the world now was full of vigor. Inside of me, though, it was still winter. Not just a simple winter, but it was snowing, a howling blizzard. There was anger in my eyes and a desire for revenge flowing in my blood. I wanted Roger to die the same way he had killed Mr. Q.
Mr. Q used to be the only person that I wanted to talk to. I came to him to share growing secrets or to share any torture or happiness growing in my heart during my childhood. He was not my dad, but I felt more close to him than my real parents. My parents were very busy with their jobs. Cell phones were their best friends. They knew nothing but the tossing of money to me for material necessities.
Mr. Q was my teacher. He taught me how to shoot when I was nine. Four times a week, I practiced with him in the nearby woods. He was my best friend, teacher and “dad”. But now he is dead. And I know how he died.
Roger was driving one night and killed my “dad” when he was taking a walk along the road nearby a park. At that time, I wanted to ask my “dad” something. I came there just in time. I witnessed the whole course of the incident.
When it happened, Roger first got out of his car and went to my “dad.” When he noticed there was no pulse, he ran away without noticing that I was hiding behind a tree. I was shocked. That was the first time a person whom I loved departed from this world. I made a promise to myself: I wanted to see Roger die the same way.
On April 4, I became Roger’s secretary. I mastered his schedule while at the same time planning when I would take action.
Meanwhile, a boy named Robert and I met through an online chat room. When Mr. Q died, I lost the only person to whom I could attach my emotion to. However, talking with Robert make me feel better, to some degree. We chatted every evening at 9 p.m. I painted him a vivid portrait of myself, telling him what I was thinking and feeling. But I never mentioned my revenge.
It was a Friday night party when we finally met each other. He was different from what I imagined him to be online. Maybe it was because I would make him look like Mr. Q in my head. He was young and looked about my age.
When he talked to me, he always looked deeply into my eyes. There was a shining in both of our eyes; I could detect it, and I knew he could, too. I had never had this feeling before. It was like a chemical reaction, something I had learned in middle school science classes. I was so happy that night.
We started chatting and hanging out for several months. I felt like Robert understood everything about me. I wondered if he detected my plan of revenge. However, without any reason, I really just wanted to forget about it. I didn’t worry about it. I felt safe and sweet when I was with him. He changed my life. When I walked by the mirror, I would always stay one more moment to look at myself and smile.
However, I knew revenge must be taken. Every day when I woke up, the first thing I would think of was my plan. On Sept. 7, I got the chance when I left the office a little after Roger did. It was dark outside. I called Roger and told him that there was something wrong with his car tire. He got out of his car to check, and that’s when it happened. I ran him over and killed him the same way he killed Mr. Q.
When I got home, I leaned against my door and thought to myself, “You did it. Everything is over now.”
Despite what I had just done, all I could see in my mind was the sweet times I had shared with Robert. Tears dropped from my face. Feeling this lost was driving me crazy. Days passed. What I discovered then shocked me: Robert was sent to jail because he had confessed to accidentally killing Roger.
I remember watching the leaves dropping from the tree after learning this. I still couldn’t believe that he had done this. I received a letter that he wrote to me:
“From the very beginning when we were just chatting with each other, I could sense your desire for revenge, but I just was not sure exactly what kind of action you would take. Now, I know that Roger was killed. This still shocks me. I never thought you would kill him! However, it did happened, and you just disappeared from the scene. You might hide in a corner of a house and shake with tears because of what you did, but from the first time I saw your face, your eyes blinked beautifully with an untold story. From that time on, I noticed that you were so different from other girls. You expressed your desire for help through your actions and behaviors. You needed a person who could save you from this dark world. I knew you needed me to be that person. I know I can’t stop you from your desire for revenge, but what I can do is let you know that love exists and forgiveness makes your life better.”
His words made me cry. I was already feeling regretful. I knew that if I lost him, it would be worse that death. I felt like a yellow leaf, dropping from the tree and not knowing where the wind would take me.
Everybody must know the truth – that I killed Roger. Maybe surrendering myself is the best thing. I am walking to the police office now; it’s long way, but I must do this. I choose walking instead of driving. I no longer feel a tightness with every step I take.