The Onlooker - A Short Fiction Story
By William Hyland

They build you u to believe that they're to be trusted. They use you until your last drop of sanity is gone. They move closer and closer, their knife inches from your back, knowing not that you can see them coming closer. You know that their treachery will not be kept silent. They're not to be trusted, but are you?

I typed my science project slowly, keeping a threshold noise gate so that they wouldn't know I was listening. I heard her try to muffle her cries, but she wouldn't stay silent enough. She had been making me believe the rumors and stories were all lies, and that she'd changed; the things I'd heard were not the only "lies" she was part of. She was a textbook slut, dragging out the term like a brand new piece of Silly Putty until it was too thin to see. She knew she was a filthy, filthy liar, but she wouldn't change. Her life was not a suburban utopia, but at least she knew what she was to do and not do.

    I dressed a list in my mind of the good and the bad. A little like a character in a book I'd read did. There were ten items on the list. If the good outnumbered the bad, I'd put it behind me. If the bad outnumbered the good... Well, it's not going to be pretty. I revised the rules in my head before dressing the list for a few seconds, then started.
One. She was one of the few he really could be called a "best friend" to me, if only for a short moment. Good.
Two. She gave me my first kiss, giving me the strength to continue when I thought it was all lost. Good.
Three. She listened and empethized when I told her about my problems. Good.
Four. She stayed over countless nights when she wanted a short break, even when I couldn't handle her and she didn't need to be here. Bad.
Five. She took advantage of me, tearing me away from my friends and making me believe I only needed to be HER friend. Bad.
Six. She insulted all that I stood for and forced her opinions on me. Bad.
Seven. She destroyed my frame of mind, making my world turn upside down. Bad.
Eight. She obstructed my privacy and made a fool of me in front of everyone I knew. Bad.
Nine. She treated me like nothing more than a simple accessory, using my chivalrous nature to keep herself happy... in more than one way.
Ten. Oh, I couldn't tell you ten. Ten was the reason I was making the list. Ten was horrible, the stuff of books and movies. The stuff people have more trouble repeating than anything else in their life. I won't tell you what number ten is. Not a single word.

    The cries slowed. The soft, wet sound of kisses could be heard in between. Her boyfriend, who I had only met an hour or so ago, was silent, but I could practically feel his smug smile boring a hole through my eyes if I chose to come into the basement later. I was going to stay here for now. The only thought more disturbing than the main point was a few different facts here. For one, she was fourteen, like me. He was nearing seventeen. Another point was that she did this in MY house, under MY roof, with some sloppy rebound guy who had, as she put it, "stalked her" for the past few months. The last thing was that she knew I was on the edge. I was teetering on the edge of the cliff I had tried so hard to stay away from forever. All of my problems were snowballing, it was all craziness everywhere I went. And I had explained that to her countless times. This was it. I was going to stop this. But how?

I'm not going to just walk down there and embarass everyone. Oh, no. I don't work like that. I think I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to let this happen. I'm going to let them face the consequences of crossing Zane O'Connor. They would find out. They would all find out. And this is how. "

Officer MaryKay Osgoode let down the note. She placed it back in the plastic bag where it came from. She spat into the trashcan to the right of her desk and placed the note on her partner's desk.
" Take a good read, " she said. " I think we know the motive pretty well. "
Pat McCormick read the note and placed it back on his desk, then placing his face in his two palms.
" Why do they always have to go this way. " he sighed. " Good people, gone crazy. If only we'd found out the girl and her boyfriend, then we could have solved it. "
Marykay looked at her shoes and sighed, then looked directly into Pat's eyes. She frowned, then placed a file beside the plastic evidence bag.
" Don't be so sure it's all over. The forensics department has it's ways. "
Pat read the report and his eyes filled with tears. He should have never turned a blind eye. He should have kept Tracy at home.