Criminal Offence :X
Criminal Offence :X
By Briana Lagos
Copyright 2010 Briana Lagos
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Criminal Offence :X
Briana Lagos
For my parents who support my deepest ambitions. Thanks guys!
Table of Contents
Preface
1. Partners
2. Childhood Friends
3. Fight
4. Date
5. Party
6. Kidnapped
7. Discover
8. Release
9. Kids
10. Camping Out
11. Cramp
12. Mother
13. Why
14. Game of Life
15. Dream
16. Explanation
17. Accidental
18. Waking Up
19. Therapy
20. Funeral
21. Resolution
Acknowledgements
About the Author
“you don’t expect anything from me
expect an ear to confide to,
a voice that does not judge,
yet still I look to you for a miracle”
- shesmolders
PREFACE
I remember when I was in middle school I had a friend named Alyssa. She was a self-declared psychic, which slightly made her a target for being made fun of and essentially an defaulted as an outcast. Of course, that didn’t stop her from reaching out and telling anyone their fortunes or futures. I was one of them. When she decided to read my palm one day, I was extremely nervous. For one, because I don't believe in this stuff, and for two, I do believe in this stuff (contradicting myself is a specialty of mine).
She grabbed my right hand firmly, looking it over for a minute before coming to a conclusion of what she discovered.
“What would you like to know first?” She said, her eyes on me.
“Um....” I stuttered, “When do I die?” I lied. And of course Alyssa, being able to see past anyone’s little white lie, laughed.
“No, I know what you want to know.” Her eyes shifted towards my hand again, then she said, “You will have two loves in your life—not overall boyfriends or anything like that—just two people that you will really fall in love with. The first one you're going to find in a hazy mess, the cliché wrong place and wrong time. And you will lose him, eventually. But then you will find someone who will help you back up, as much as I can see.”
I cautiously glanced in her eyes. She let go of my hand, and I slid it close to my body.
“Do you wanna know your death?”
I shook my head.
“That's what I thought.” She grinned.
That memory of her reading refused to escape my everyday thoughts. As I lie a rose down at the scene that caused me pain so many years ago, a warm arm wrapped around my waist. Most times I think that things shouldn't have happened the way they turned out. But then, I realized this is how it was destined to pan out anyway.
1. PARTNERS
I ran my fingers through my hair as I got out of my car just in time for the school entrance bell to sound. I needed to see Kade. I had to see that bright smile usually pastured on his face most Friday mornings.
As I went to our usual morning spot, in the short distance I sighted a person leaning against the concrete wall wearing a familiar red hoodie. Jake Williams, Kade’s best friend. I bit my lip. Not the first person I wanted to see. I had my suspicions that he hated my guts. He always talks over me whenever I open my mouth to say something. And Kade barely notices how disrespectful Jake can be, no matter how many times I bring this to his attention. I try not to let it bother me much.
I gave him a curt greet. He gave me a slight grin and a nod. We stood in silence for a few moments before I spoke.
“So where's Kade?” I was still unsure what kind of a mood Jake was in today. I hoped it was good.
“You'll never guess,” he smirked. “At Kristen's house.”
I gasped in a way that only a dramatic actress would on a Spanish soap opera. Kristen was Kade's ex-girlfriend—or (otherwise referred as) the “devil in leggings”. Kristen was always seen in them—had a pair in every color imaginable. She practically wore leggings everyday and her reasoning behind her favor in leggings was that it made her butt look cute. Which was true. Her butt (which she carefully hid around the administrators while stylishly showing off assets to the other students) was sculpted quite perfectly in them. Kristen was one reason why I don’t like leggings. The other reason because my butt looked deformed in them.
Then Jake busted out laughing. “Oh my God! You should have seen your face. Priceless!” He snorted.
I gave a quiet 'humph' and felt a hand grasp my shoulder. I spun around to find Kade, my perfect, perfect boyfriend. I leaped up into his arms and gave him a kiss on the lips as I could hear a disgruntled sigh from his best friend.
“You will not believe how easy it is to lie to your girlfriend,” he said. I glared at him but he ignored me, just like he always does.
“Really?” Kade's eyes peered down to mine. I gave him the I-hate-your-friend-look but of course, oblivion masked his understanding. His friend may be an asshole but Kade will never know.
“Dottie!” Janaki was coming towards with light green papers in her hand. She had her square black-framed glasses on. She always wore them when she felt she was doing something highly important. She didn’t need him—her eyesight wasn’t perfect but it wasn’t bad either. Her hair was down and her bangs were getting long as they covered her eyebrows. Her plaid flannel shirt nicely hugged her light-brown body.
“Dutta,” Jake said, trying not to look like he was starring at her breasts but it was so obvious. “You're looking hot today.”
“Oh,” She said, turning to him. “That's nice of you to notice.” She gave her fake smile and handed me one of the green papers from the stack she was holding.
“What's this?”
“Why don't you read it first?”
I skimmed through the paper and said to her, “You're on a mission to save the world again?”
Jake grabbed a flyer from her stack and raised an eyebrow as he gave it a skeptical once-over. “Were you always a vegan?”
“Well,” Janaki said, glancing up as if trying to recollect a memory, “I've been off and on with that diet in the past, but it's a fresh new start!”
“But you're starting a club.” I said.
“Mrs. Sanders was happy to be the club sponsor,” she said, snatching the paper from back from Jake. “As we all know her as the only vegan teacher in this school.”
The first period warning bell rang and everyone began rushing to class. We said our goodbyes and I managed to slide into my seat in English class as the bell rang again.
Ms. Miller was ranting on about something unrelated to class for the first couple of minutes. This was normal, Ms. Miller always had something to say about her personal problems. Then she began the class by telling us we needed to partner up. Oh crap. No.
I turned my head the boy that sat next to me since the beginning of this school year, three months ago. Eric Grant. His dark hair covered his eyes, he didn’t make much of a motion. I really couldn't tell if he was even paying attention. He was acting like a statue!
“Uh....” I said.
“So would you like to be my partner?” Eric said, turning his gaze to me. I could see his eyes were remarkable light sha
des of gray. Wow. That's actually the first time I could recollect seeing his eyes. They were really nice.
“I guess.” I took out a notebook from my backpack, and flipped to a clean page. “What are we suppose to do?” I asked, and then realized that was the stupidest question ever.
“If you were paying any attention,” he said, a little harshly, “we have to research a classical writer.”
“Oh. Who are we researching?”
“Not our choice. Ms. Miller’s telling us.” I could tell by the roll of his eyes that he thought I was an idiot. I was getting pissed. I hated it when people think they know everything. Just because my mind was somewhere else for the moment didn’t insinuate that I’m an idiot.
Ms. Miller finally came to my table and placed a blank paper on Eric's desk. “The name of the author is on the other side,” she muttered, and added with a whisper to Eric when she thought I wasn't looking, “and good luck.”
This time, I rolled my eyes.
Eric turned the paper to the other side, which read in bold print, 'Katherine Anne Porter.' I didn't ask who it was. I didn't want to seem like a complete idiot if she was classically well known.
“I don't know her.” Eric glanced at me.
I brightened up just a bit. “Me neither.” I wrote the name down in my notebook, to make it seem like I was already on the job to search the mysterious author. Ms. Miller was already at the front of the room again. She cleared her voice and this time I listened closely.
“The writers that I've assigned are not as well known as you may hope and are scattered in different genres of literature. What I want you to do as partners is to write a brief biography and find at least two pieces of work or passages by