Charlie Who?

The floor pounded beneath me in a rhythmic boom, boom, boom. Sweaty bodies collided into me making the contents of the red plastic cup slosh onto the dirty floor beneath me. It was only when I noticed a familiar brunette tumbling between two grinding couples that I pushed aside all the people who had wholeheartedly beat me against the dry wall in a hurry to catch up to the boy.

“Hey! Wait!” I called, by then the alcohol had already been chucked onto the floor leaving me with just the cup

I was too far behind. He couldn’t see me, colored lights blinked on and off in correspondence to the pounding techno music. All around me was darkness beside glow sticks hanging from people’s necks. Once again, I drilled through the dancing crowd even knocking over people’s drinks. The stairs at the opposite end of the room caught my eye for the little lights were hung on it so droll. I pushed through a lip locked couple and raced up the steps to get a better view of the living room.

“Hey, Char who you looking for?” Diane called still clinging onto the stranger

I ignored her and continued my scan of the living room. I stayed up there for minutes before the lights changed into little colorful disco disks spinning around the room. And there he was lolled across the couch sipping a can of beer. My heart began pounding the huge grin on my face was probably going to rip through my cheeks, but that didn’t matter because I found him.

I skipped down the steps and made my way through the swarm of dancers.

“Hey,” I called over the music

He sat upright and tousled his dark locks, “Come” he mouthed.
I hastily agreed and sat on the leather couch beside him.

“I was looking all over for you,” I sighed pressing up against him

“Really?” he whispered into my ear.

A chill ran up my spine and once again my face was crowded with a cheek splitting grin. He drooped an arm across my waist and pulled me tighter to him.

“Why don’t we head upstairs,” He smirked setting aside his beer

I gave a slight nod and took a deep breath.

“Okay,” I beamed

He led me between clusters of sweaty people, right up the stairs and into the bedroom.



“How was the party last night?” my mother questioned at the breakfast table the following morning.

“It was fine,” I piled another bagel and cream cheese onto my plate and sipped my coffee.

“No shenanigans with that boy, right?” my father chided

I rolled my eyes and took a big bite of my bagel, “Of course not, dad. And for the record his name is Anthony, okay? You’ve met him like three times,”

My father eyed me suspiciously then went back to reading his paper. I noticed my mother inching closer to the TV to raising the volume, then she sat right smack in front of it. The voice of the anchorman spoke out, echoing in the tiny kitchen. I had wondered why she had turned it up so loud, but then I saw it. There plastered on the screen was a picture of Lindsey Murray’s suburban home. It was then that I finally scooted closer to the television set.

“In the early hours of this Saturday morning, the home of Dr. Calvin Murray was broken into by an unknown suspect. Witnesses say that they did not see anyone enter the home but immediately phoned the police once gunshots rang out,” I slapped a hand over my mouth and nearly toppled over trying to get closer.

“Late last night, the Murray’s daughter, Lindsey had thrown a party, but it is not known whether the killer had been a close friend of the teenager or not. The Murrays, who had been gone on a business trip, was informed about the death of their daughter early this morning.”

I stood up abruptly and began to pace around the room- with tears prickling at my eyes. My parents eyed me solemnly and stood up as well.

“How could that have happen?” I cried pacing around the counter top island, “I mean, Anthony and I had barely left her house this morning! We were the last ones- how? Who?”

My mother wrapped her arms around me and cooed little nothings in my ear, but that didn’t help the fact that guilt was in the underlining of my stomach. If I had just stayed a little longer, I thought. But then again it wasn’t as if Anthony and I had actually left early. In fact, we had gotten dressed and went down to say goodbye. It was nearly 6 am. Maybe we should’ve stayed for breakfast, or offer to take her with us, or even stayed just to help clean up. But nothing mattered, because she was dead. Just like my brother. And there was nothing I could do to bring her back.

Except for maybe tell the police that I saw someone out front when we left her house.