Misguided Truths: Part One (10 page)

“Sign here, please.”

I nod once and grab the pen from the guy sitting behind the desk. It’s only when the ink hits the dotted line that I realize my hands are shaking. Everything feels surreal.

After spending
twelve months locked up in a cell, you’d think I’d be feeling a whole lot happier than what I actually am.
Shit.
I thought that I’d be feeling happier to finally be going back outside.

Yeah, I got handed t
welve months inside for being in possession. You see, she never came back. She strolled into the room that day, and raised my hopes so fucking high that I believed her. I actually believed every goddamn word that left her mouth and thought she was gonna help me.

I waited. And, I waited. But,
nothing.

Right afterwards, my lawyer had said tha
t he thought I was lucky to only have been found guilty on the one charge. That I would’ve been looking at a lot longer inside if they’d found me guilty for causing her death as well. But, you see, I didn’t feel that lucky. Especially when the only reason they didn’t serve me with their guilty verdict was due to their lack of evidence, and not because they knew I didn’t do it.

The guy passes over the envelope as I throw the pen down, and I slowly turn around to make my way out through the exit doors.

Rachael told me the last time she visited that she’d be waiting by the gates to pick me up when they released me. Well, the gates are just up ahead and I don’t see her anywhere yet.

I
take a seat on the steps just by the doors while I wait for her to get here. What with the way the rain’s hammering down, and it being eight in the morning, it’s likely that she got held up in the rush hour traffic or something.

Sitt
ing down, I stare dolefully at the envelope before ripping it open. I tip it upright so all the contents fall onto my lap and see my cell phone, my watch, and … no.

No. They said … he said …

I drop the envelope down to my side and pick up the locket with my left hand, while stroking it lightly with the fingers of my right. My chest tightens, I swallow hard, and I close my eyes. This isn’t supposed to be here. It was supposed to be with Holly.
I
should be with Holly.

If it wasn’t hard enough having to miss her funeral, but
now this?

I snap my eyes open as I take a deep breath, and run my left hand through my hair while clutching the necklace tightly as anger begins to take over my whole being.

Whoever did this is gonna pay. Whoever set me up took everything I had going for me in my life. I’ve lost the past twelve months while doing time for a crime I didn’t commit. They took my girlfriend away from me. They took Holly’s life. They killed my girlfriend, and they set me up to take the fall.

And it’s in this moment that I realize. My sole purpose right now isn’t to try and start anew. No. It’s to find the motherfucker who did this to us. They
may think that they’ve gotten away with it, but I can promise you this. Somebody out there knows what happened that night, and I won’t rest or give up until I find out who fucked everything up.

The sound of an engine in the near distance has me looking up and over to the exit. I place my cell and watch back into the envelope, but keep a hold of the necklace firmly in my hand when I see Rachael’s bl
ack SUV parking right outside the gates.

The rain is still coming down hard and I see her opening up her umbrella as she walks briskly towards me. I stand and inhale another deep breath before making my way slowly over towards her.

We don’t speak a word until we reach her car and sit inside.

“How does it feel?” she asks and I turn to face her. She has that same warmth withi
n her eyes now as she always does.

“You know what, Rach?” I’m just gonna be completely honest with her. “It doesn’t make a difference. I thought that being out here would change things. Change how I feel. But, it doesn’t. It doesn’t matter whether I’m sitting out here, or sitting back through there. Because … she’s never coming back, is she?”

Tears are brimming in her eyes, and as I go to look away, she puts her arms out and pulls me towards her. She shakes her head at me and hugs me tightly as she whispers, “No, Brandon … she’s never coming back.”

***

I tap my fingers on the seat and stare out of the window as she starts to drive us away from the place that has practically been my home for the past year.

Rach was the only person who ever visited me regularly. But, that was because I refused to see anybody else. In fact, she’s the only person I’ve kept in contact with since I was put in
there.

Rye and Neil came to visit me the one time, right at the beginning. But, I haven’t seen them since then. They just dropped by to say their goodbyes before heading to Europe. Was I mad that they did this? No. Not at all. I mean, sure, I was upset to know that two of my closest friends wouldn’t be around, but they’d already postponed their trip long enough.

Rachael, though, she visited me every week without fail, and insisted on organizing things on my behalf, ready for when release day came around.

Well, that day is today.

“Here,” she keeps eyes focused on the road ahead while handing me a large, white envelope. “It’s your timetable for when you start your classes next month, and your room key is inside.” I nod as I take it from her.

“Do we have to go there right now?” I turn in my seat as we pull up at some lights, and notice her eyes flickering over to the digital clock on the dashboard before she begins to shake her head.

“No, not just yet. Layla isn’t expecting us for another couple of hours. Why? Is there somewhere in particular you want to go?” she instantly closes her eyes as the words leave her mouth, before turning to look over at me while breathing a heavy sigh. “Of course. Stupid question.”

“Do you mind?” I ask. She shakes her head again, only slightly this time, with a look of sadness seeping into her eyes.

She takes the next right when we reach a crossroads, and I know it’s not gonna be long before we get there.

College isn’t the only thing Rachael arranged for me while I was on the inside. Nope. She also managed to line me up with a job. One of her old high school friends, Layla, is the owner’s daughter and the manager of a bar just around the corner from the colleges’ campus, where I’ll be living for the foreseeable future. The paychecks I’ll get from there won’t particularly be a lot, but, I’ve gotta pay
for my tuition fees somehow.

Seattle isn’t where I wanna stay perm
anently, but I figure I’ll be close enough to where I need to be in order to find the scumbag who ruined our lives, though still far enough away so they won’t know what’s coming.

“We’re here,
” Rachael’s speaks quietly, and I feel her squeezing my arm when she’s parked up at the side of the street. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No …” I unfasten my seatbelt, open the passenger side door, and then step out onto the road. “No, I need to do this on my own.” She nods with understanding before I close the door back up.

When my eyes land on the sign reading, ‘Beck Hill Cemetery,’ I pause by the gates when my insides begin to churn, “Brandon,” I turn around when I hear Rachael calling me. “She’s half way along, on the left hand side. It’s the one with the white headstone.” She tells me in a softer voice before winding her window back up closed.

The sound of footsteps drawing up close behind me has me turning around again, and I step to the side to let the woman pass by me when I see her heading in the same direction. “Thanks,” she says quietly.

“Yeah … no problem.” I answer, though she probably didn’t hear me anyway. She’s walking briskly with her head lowered, and she’s pulling the hood of her jacket down over her face to shield herself from the rain with one hand, while carrying a bouquet of white flowers with the other.

Flowers.

Shit. I should’ve brought some fucking flowers.

I glance around when I make my way through the large, cast iron gates and along the pathway. My legs become weak when my eyes land on a bright, white headstone, surrounded by flowers over on the left.

Making my way over, I take the locket out from my pocket before sitting beside her.

“I’m so sorry, Holly,” m
y vision becomes blurred, but I blink the tears away. I promised myself that I wouldn’t do this. I told myself not to break down in front of her. “I thought that you, um … that you might wanna have this. It’s you and me, Holl’s.” I hang the locket around the cross that’s on the top of her grave. “It was supposed to be me and you ... I swear to God, I swear to fucking God that I’m gonna find out who did this. I swear it. If it’s the last thing I fucking do. They’re not gonna get away with taking you from me.”

“Ssshh, come on,” I didn’t notice Rachael was behind me until she I hear her speak, and feel her placing her hands around my shoulders.
“It’s okay, Brandon. It’s okay.” I grip onto her, and then I do it.

For the first time sinc
e all of this started, I break down.

I allow my unshed tears to finally fall.

I cry.

***

We stayed in the cemetery for a little while longer before heading over to meet with Layla at the bar. I’ll be working my first shift there this weekend, and though she originally only needed somebody to work one or two nights on the weekends, she told me that I could always pick up a little extra overtime during the week if I wanted.

I open the trunk and grab all my things out. When I say all of my things, I mean one bag of clothes and my guitar.

You see, when my mom and dad had decided that I was no longer a part of their family, which was right after the cops charged me, Rachael went around to their house to speak with them. She wanted to make them understand that I hadn’t done a damn thing wrong. But, they wouldn’t listen. I knew they wouldn’t. And, if I’m to be completely honest, it didn’t and still doesn’t bother me in the slightest. They’ve never been the world’s greatest parents. Ever since I was nine years old, I’ve pretty much been taking care of myself anyways.

But, Rach can be a pretty persistent person when she wants to be. They told her that they’d already packed my things up into bags
, and that they were in the garage, ready to be disposed of. She told me she gave them a piece of her mind right there and then, which made me laugh. I could just imagine the looks over both of their faces when they were confronted with a seething Rachael. That’s definitely something I’d never want to be faced with, let me tell you that much.

Anyways, luckily for me, she managed to take a bag full of clothes and my guitar on
her way out. If she hadn’t, then the only things I’d have that I’d be able to call my own would be the clothes I’m standing in right now.

“Are you sure you won’t change your mind?” Rachael asks as she walks around to meet me at the back of the SUV. “It doesn’t seem right that you’ll be spending Christmas on your own.”

“No, I don’t think so, Rach,” I drop my things down on the ground before pushing the trunk door closed. “Listen, tell you mom and dad thanks from me, alright?

“You could thank them yourself over the turkey di
nner if you weren’t so stubborn,” she folds her arms across her chest and pulls a frown.

I pull her
into my arms and laugh lightly, “You know, you look and sound just like your little sister when you do shit like that.”

“Call me soon, okay?” s
he says before making her way back over to the driver’s side.

I wait on the sidewalk and watch as she drives away. When she turns the corner, I throw my bag over my left shoulder and
pick up my guitar while reading the large sign directly ahead of me.

‘Welcome to Seattle’s College of Performing Arts & Music.’

PART TWO COMING SOON!