‘I Hit Him’ by Owen, Year 7

clenched fist
photo credit: mr.beaver via photopin cc

I hit him too hard.  I wasn’t thinking, I hadn’t had my pills, but I still hit him hard.  And now the day was possibly going to be very bad for me.

It was a small feeling of frustration a little something to amuse, to make me feel better about the very stupid mistake I had done.

Take a pill.

What could happen now?  Would I be arrested? dragged off the premises by pumped policemen?  Quite possibly.

More likely, and definitely worse, I would be forced to confess, that I had murdered Professor Tarbiass Olesop and exactly how I had murdered him.  Which I feared to tell the most I couldn’t bare to tell them how I killed an innocent old man.

The CSI would be involved.  I was certain.  “you do understand Danny because you have murdered Professor Tarbiass Olesop we will be taking you down to the city jail, where you will be kept for the rest of your life”.  I sat there and begged the officer for mercy on my soul, I begged and begged but he just grabbed my hands and threw the handcuffs onto my wrists.  I stood up in ultimate disappointment in myself and walked towards the van.

It was morning, I was in a really dark and gross cell, I looked up and the light burned.

Maybe this will work out for the best; one of my friends will bail me out. That’s when I realised firstly I couldn’t get bailed from a lifetime sentence and secondly what friends?  As I walked towards the cell doors I heard a man’s voice screaming of guilt as he was thrown into another cell I kept over to the corner and cried.

I woke up.  I felt for my pills.  Gone.

I re-read the sticky white label on the front of the glass bottle.  It said they would last me a week.  I thought for a minute how many I had taken when I heard a huge explosion.  I stared out my little chain window… It was a jail break.  I was staring at all the running criminals thinking if I go I will be free but if I don’t well that will be the end of me so off I ran, straight towards the gates.

As I ran the officers were firing at me so swung myself low and grabbed myself a gun and shot all around me another two murders but this time I didn’t feel grief I laughed and threw myself out of the prison and screamed my life was better.

My new life, I’m on the run forever.

Owen



Writing and Performance