The Heist

She was just an ordinary seventeen year old girl. She had many friends, and few enemies. Nobody who’d do anything like this, her parents told the police just three years ago.

Her attacker was put away then, just seven months after he raped and murdered her.

Well, I still maintain that I had nothing to do with that. I barely knew the girl. Why would I rape and murder her? Then again, I guess that doesn’t matter.

Here I stand, waiting for my ride to get out of this damned hell-hole I’ve been in since the jury convicted me for the crime I didn’t commit. Luckily, they let me out for good behavior. I don’t know why they’d let me out after three years, though.

Nobody, except my sister, seems to believe me. Even my mother is against me, my own damned mother.

It isn’t like I have any proof I didn’t kill her, let alone rape the poor girl. Who’d believe me? I was twenty at the time. If only I could find out who really did this. Then I could prove that I’m innocent.

“Erik!” my sister screamed out her car window. I guess my ride is here.

~*~*~*~

Why did I let this happen again? God, I’m so stupid. I slapped myself on the forehead. I sauntered into the pharmacy and straight to the pregnancy tests. Which one should I get? They all looked the same to me.

“Hmm. Maybe this one?”

“Excuse me, ma’am, do you need any help?” a sales boy asked me. God, why do they have a male sales person selling pregnancy tests? And why does he have to be so darned cute?

“Uh, no thanks. I’m good.” The guy started to walk away. “Actually, which one is the most accurate?”

The sales boy picked up a particular brand, handed it to me, and walked away as if pregnancy was a highly contagious disease or something.

I grabbed three more pregnancy kits, just to be sure. Carrying the kits, I walked to the till and waited in line. After paying for the darned things, I went home and took all four tests and awaited the results.

What does the plus sign mean again?

*~*~*~*

I have to find a way to prove my innocence at all costs. Nothing is more important. Thinking of a few of my roommates over the years, I realize that there are possibilities to prove said innocence.

I have options, I tell myself as I reach for the phone to call dear old Julian Winters, who was in the slammer for breaking into a building to set animals free. Those animal rights activists; they’ll do anything for their cause. Hopefully he’ll be up for my cause, and will treat it the same way he treated all his other causes.