Perfect Crime

"Something, something very important." -Damien.

Looking at Damien he seemed deep in thought. I sat in my thoughts desperately trying to figure out what he needed to tell me. I slid closer to him and took his hand into mine. I lay my head unto his shoulder. He still just sat there, not moving. I stroked his hair with gentle hands. I looked up to see a tear rolling down his cheek. So many things can be said without words, I could tell something horrible had happened in his past, something regretful. I stood up for the first time in hours and walked over to the tissue box. I pulled out a tissue and went over to Damien. I crouched down in front of him. His eyes were I guess you could say were dead. They had a blank look staring onto the tile floor. I wrapped the tissue around my index finger and wiped the tear up. He was so unique. He was wearing black skinny jeans with red converse and a shirt that said "zOMG!". Black eyeliner and a lip ring. It always felt so weird when we kissed because of that lip ring. Today he was wearing his favorite pair of shutter shades and I could see them sitting on the side table. His left arm had razor scars, he had never told me why he had cut himself but I had a feeling he would eventually. Snapping back to reality I got up on my knees and looked into his eyes. I didn't know what to do to bring him back to reality. So I did all I could do. Closing my eyes and leaning in I kissed him on the cheek. I heard a slight gasp.
"Damien?" I said with my eyes still closed.
"I'm sorry." he said with a leery voice.
"For what?" I said. I disconnected from his cheek and plopped down to the ground with my legs behind me in a V shape.
"For keeping the truth from you for a long time." he said. "But if you want to know, I guess I will tell you."
And he began to tell me his life story.

"It all started when I was 8, I was young a naive and l didn't know that playing with matches was bad." "At school they had shown all the safety videos, all the precautions, but still I didn't listen." He said with his eyes closed.

"What do you mean?" I asked.
And he just continued.

"It was the last day of school and there had been a drought for months, the city had rationed their water to extremes, I walked home with sweat pouring down my face. I bolted into the door and the first thing I did was run to the sink. I turned it on and put my face under the faucet and only a couple drops came out. My tongue was so dry. I heard a raspy voice and I knew it was my mother, at the moment my dad was at work he worked for a factory during those tough times. We lived in a tiny one bedroom apartment and I didn't have any friends or any pets, only my mother. I walked over to see my mom in bed, dying she had throat cancer and was on a monitor. She tugged at my jeans which I knew meant water. She had aged years in only a couple months now she looked 60. I told her I had to borrow some water from the neighbors. I ran over to the neighbors and knocked and the door just mysteriously opened. It was pitch dark and I couldn't see. Our next door neighbors were Amish so they didn't use electricity they used matches. I saw a table next to the door and saw a match a box. I had seen their kid use the match box many times before so I took a match and stroked it against the box and saw it lit up. Suddenly the room lit up. It was completely empty, the only thing was the appliances and the wooden floor. I walked further into the room and suddenly something jumped on me and i dropped the match. I saw a squirrel run out the door. At first it was just a little flame, but it grew. I saw it light up the floor. I got scared and I ran out the door, and without thinking i ran down the flight of stairs and stopped when I reached the sidewalk below. I took a quarter out of my pocket and used the pay phone and dialed 911. I told them the address and fire trucks soon arrived. By now the whole building was lit up. I screamed for my mother and tried to run into the building. All that was separating me and the building was a foreman holding me back. I struggled and kicked and screamed but he wouldn't let me go. Ill never forget that day. Or the month after when the funeral arrived. Thats when dad started drinking. The funeral was one of the worst days of my life. It was dreary and sad. And I can remember little detail down to when they layed her in the ground.
So I guess what sums it all up is that.
Im the reason for my mothers death"