Once, Milan told himself. He was going to listen to the recording once. But by now, he couldn’t count how many times he’d listened to it. He wanted to find something. Any inconsistencies, anything to prove this recording wrong. But the more he listened, the more he believed every word.
How? It was simple, really. He’d forgotten to return Amica’s phone. Now he was a thief too. Great. But when he thought about it, he’d stolen before. The clothes from the shop right after he and Eli had escaped and had made it to the city. But that had been a requirement. And unlike Eli, Milan didn’t steal unless it was necessary… or unintentional.
Milan pressed stop, then back to repeat.
“No wonder you wanted to kill them. We wanted to kill them. And we did,” the recording said.
“Shut up.” Milan pressed the stop button and back to repeat.
“Ten years ago, on that scorching summer day in July, you bought yourself a chocolate ice cream.”
Milan ground his teeth as the recording continued. More than anything, he wanted to throw the phone across the building. He felt like taking the SD card out, bending it, and breaking it into pieces. Or he wanted to run away, away from it all, find a hypnotherapist, erase his memories and start a new life. He wanted to dial the police’s number and turn himself in like he should’ve done from the beginning.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Milan took off the raincoat. The sun blasted heat inside the barren, concrete building. This place was worse than a prison cell. The floor was hard and rough against his bones. How he’d slept on it for ten hours was a mystery. But what was worse, he was all alone. He hadn’t been alone in jail. Eli had been there. And Amica had helped Milan more than he asked for. But now, as he sat there, listening to the recording, he understood how alone he was. His parents were dead. Gone from this world. Damien and Travis never wanted to see him again. But it wasn’t like Milan wanted to see them either.
Screw them, Milan thought. Screw everyone.
Stop, then repeat.
“Ten years ago, on that scorching summer day in July, you bought yourself a chocolate ice cream.”
Amica, why did you make me listen to this? He thought. Now he couldn’t stop listening.
Milan crouched, resting his arms on his knees. His parents took their secret of hating each other to their graves. They never wanted anyone to find out. But now, not only did Eli and Amica know, but Aidan knew as well. If this fell into the police’s hands, they would know too. And if this was used as evidence in court, the judge, the jury, the witnesses, the prosecutor, the attorney, and the media would all know.
He pressed repeat again.
“Ten years ago, on that scorching summer day in July, you bought yourself a chocolate ice cream.”
He didn’t get it. Why would Milan want to record his own voice, revealing a secret he never told anyone to prove to himself he was the culprit? No, it wasn’t Milan. It was as if he had another ‘side’ of him. A side of him who killed his parents and screwed up his tests at school. A side of him who had played chess with Amica. Milan squeezed his lips together, stifling a laugh.
It was ridiculous.