by Trish D.
“Jason!” I wanted to sound angry and judging by how they jumped, I definitely did. The look on Jason’s face went from shock to disgust very quickly. I didn’t know if it was due to how disheveled I looked from being in pajamas and one house shoe or because I was there in general.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was just as angry. That is not what I wanted. I wanted him to be scared.
“We need to talk.”
“The paperwork I had you served with has my lawyer’s information. Anything you need to say needs to go through her.” He was being smug and arrogant. To make it worse, he then grabbed Charity’s hand and started towards the house.
“NO, WE NEED TO TALK NOW!” I was seeing red at this point and he was still taking me as a joke.
“I should go and let you two talk.” Charity seemed to get it. I was not playing around and she seemed visibly nervous.
“The only person leaving is her.” Jason replied.
“Jason, I’m only going to ask you one more time to take five minutes and talk to me.”
“Get lost Cheryl! Where are the kids, huh? Go home and take care of them. It’s not a good time and we will have plenty of time to talk in court. But since we are all here, why don’t you meet my fiancé Charity.”
That was it. He had gone too far and it was time to show him that I was no longer playing with him. With just a few steps, I was face to face with him, up close in personal. As Charity backed up, he looked at me and grinned like I was some pitiful ex-fling that couldn’t handle him moving on. He had absolutely no respect for me.
“Your fiancé huh?
“That’s right. She will be here to help me raise my daughter.”
“I doubt that asshole!”
Before he could say another word, I turned the gas can upside down and began pouring the gasoline on him. When he realized what was going on, he shoved me causing me to fall on the ground, losing my other house shoe. I kept the box of matches clenched tightly in my hands. I couldn’t lose them. When I looked at him, I saw that he was soaked pretty well with the gasoline and trying to wipe it off his face. He stared at me in bewilderment, but still with a smug smirk on his face. Back on my feet we locked eyes and even when I revealed the matches, he didn’t seem fazed. He was daring me like he didn’t think I had the balls to do it. Without a second thought, I struck the match, and it was only then that he realized the severity of the situation. Jason had a look of sheer terror on his face when he realized what was about to happen. Whether it was shock or disbelief, something didn’t allow him to move or try to get away. I could hear Charity going back and forth between telling Jason to run and pleading with me to stop, but it was too late.
With a simple flick of the match, his whole body went into flames. In an instant, I wanted to take it back. I wanted a rewind button, a second chance, and a do over. The screams coming from him as he flailed his body around was ear piercing. The smell of his flesh burning was so awful that I threw up. It seemed like hours were passing by, but it was only seconds before a scene of chaos erupted. Charity was frantic yelling for help and neighbors from all over the neighborhood were coming outside gasping in horror. On one side of me I saw the neighbor, I knew as Trent running over with his hose and from the other side, a neighbor who’s name I never knew was running over yelling “the police are on the way.” I wanted to explain my side to them so that they knew I wasn’t a jealous ex-girlfriend. They needed to know that he deserved it.
“IT’S NOT MY FAULT. HE MADE ME DO IT. DO YOU HEAR ME? HE MADE ME DO IT.”
I stood there yelling, as the crowd around a now extinguished Jason was growing larger and larger. In the near distance, I could hear ambulance sirens. I had to get out of there. Running back to my car as fast as my bare feet would allow, I could hear someone yelling at me to come back, like I was really going to hang around for the police to get there. As I started up my car, Trent sprinted over and stood behind my car, while the other neighbor stood in front of my car. They were trying to keep me from leaving, which sent me into panicked frenzy.
“If you all know what’s good for you, you would get out of my way.” I was back at the car at this time trying to stand as tall as I could, though I was scared beyond belief.
“You are not going anywhere! You just set a man on fire.” I could hear Trent talking behind me, but I was in a dead lock gaze with the other neighbor. We stared each other down until the approaching sirens snapped me back into reality. I had to get out of there.
“I’m sorry! I tried to warn you.”
Back in the car, as I saw the blue lights approaching, I closed my eyes and slammed my foot into the accelerator jolting the car into the man’s body. It happened so fast that he didn’t have time to react or get out of the way. His body went under my car and as I kept driving, the sound of bones breaking gave me chills, but I couldn’t stop. I kept my foot pressed as hard as possible on the gas and gunned towards the neighborhood exit. I could hear more screams of horror mixed in with police and ambulance sirens. Trent had taken off on foot behind my car yelling and waving his fists. I knew if by some off chance that he would have been able to catch up to my car, I would have had to kill him also before he killed me. In my rear view mirror I could see a crowd gathered around the man’s lifeless body that I had just run over. What bothered me more was the flood of police cars that were now on the scene. It was like a scene from a movie or from the crime shows I watched. What in the world did I just do? I only wanted to get rid of Jason and now I had killed two people. At any moment I expected to have a flood of police cars coming out the neighborhood after me. The thought of being chased by the police terrified me. I held my breath all the way until I was on the highway with no blue lights behind me. By no means did I think I was in the clear. I knew in no time, there was going to be an APB on my car and me. In my head I imagined a scene of being surrounded by police cars and them telling me to come out slowly with my hands up. I wondered after what I had done if they would shoot me. A part of me was thinking that maybe, just maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
I drove trying my best to blend in with the traffic until I got to the nearest rest stop. I parked my car at the end of the parking lot, wanting so badly to have a minute to just stop and breath. I needed to process what had just happened, but there was no time. The rest stop was not that far from the scene of the crime and I had to separate myself from the car. When I got out the car, I looked around and saw woods in one direction and highway in the other. Even though I was sure drivers on the highway wouldn’t know they were passing a murderer, I knew my bare feet, dirty pajamas, and wild hair was enough to raise eyebrows and draw attention to myself. With a deep sigh, I grabbed my purse and headed to the woods. I didn’t get far with random things sticking me in my feet and with every step I was nervous that a bear or some other wild animal would appear and attack me. When I decided I was far enough out of plain view, I slumped down to the ground to try and gather my thoughts. It hit me that I had become one of those idiots from the crime shows that had let their emotions drive them into committing a crime. I had convinced myself that getting rid of Jason was the only way to fix my problems and that it would make me feel better. Now that it was done, I realized how wrong I was. There was no way I could get away with it. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life on the run. What were my other options? Prison? No way. I wouldn’t last a day. Death? That didn’t seem too bad of an option.
I had spent extensive time dwelling on how the death of Jason would benefit the kids and me. Never did it cross my mind that my exit from this world would be best for us all too. What did I have to live for? I had no job, no home of my own, and no money. I had nothing. I had no one who cared like I needed them to care. Daily functions seemed like such a burden and there was nothing that seemed to bring any joy to my life. My children deserved a better mom and a better life. There was no way I could give them what they deserved after what I had just done. The only solution to what I had done was for me to die
also. The thought of dying didn’t scare me. What bothered me, was knowing that people would call me a coward and say I took the easy way out instead of facing the consequences of my actions. They wouldn’t know my side of the story. They wouldn’t know the type of person Jason really was and the way he changed me. I wanted to somehow send a message to world that said, “I AM NOT THE BAD PERSON.”
I had to laugh at the fact that once again I found myself in a familiar situation. I needed a way to commit a murder; this time my own. It looked as though I was in the clear of a bear or wolf showing up to maul me, so I had to come up with something else. The ideas seemed to come so easily when I was planning Jason’s murder, but with my own, everything seemed so harsh and painful. I had convinced myself that I deserved a peaceful death. I wasn’t a bad person. My car was still there which made me consider driving it into traffic, but that would put innocent people at risk. I thought about going into the bathroom and hanging myself, but I quickly realized how ridiculous that was. I didn’t have a rope or anything to use and with the amount of people going in and out, it would never work. My next idea was the one I figured was the most logical, which was to call the police and tell them where I was. I had no intentions of being taken into custody alive and I knew it wouldn’t take much to get them to shoot me, especially since I had already killed two people. It was a foolproof plan and I was ready.
Since I had ditched my cell phone hours earlier, I had to walk into the rest area and use the pay phone. When I lifted the phone from the receiver, everything in me wanted to back out, but I knew I couldn’t. My hands were shaking and my vision got blurry as I tried to focus on the numbers. “Come on Cheryl”, I said out loud to myself. “It’s only three numbers.”
“Chattanooga 911, what’s your emergency?”
“My name is Cheryl Atkins. I set my ex-boyfriend on fire and ran someone else over in my car. I am the rest area at exit 302 in a white Toyota. The police can come and get me.”
The operator was still talking when I hung up, but I wasn’t really feeling up to answering questions. I walked back to my car and sat there enjoying my last few minutes of being able to breath in fresh air. It didn’t take long before I heard sirens and the reality of what was about to happen hit me. Without thinking I started the car up and sped out the rest stop towards the highway. I was on the over pass to get on when I pulled over and stopped. I climbed over to the passenger side and squeezed my way out the door which put me right at the cement wall of the over pass. Looking down to the cars whizzing down the highway, I thought to myself. “Could I really do that? Could I jump?” I couldn’t really think of why jumping would be a better option than letting the police shoot me, but my mind kept telling me to do it. I was still looking down telling myself to just do it when two police cars arrived. Within seconds, two more were right behind them and I could hear multiple sirens headed my way. I knew it was going to happen so it didn’t bother me that so many were coming.
“Ma’am, I need you to back away from the wall and put your hands up.” The officer wasn’t shouting, but his voice was stern and rough. I turned to tell him that it wasn’t necessary and saw that there were six police officers outside their vehicles with guns pointed at me.
“Holy shit.”
That was the only thing that came to mind. It wasn’t television. It was real and it scared me to death. I figured I had two options. I could jump or run towards them forcing them to shoot. I didn’t know how many would shoot. At that point I didn’t want to risk being shot and living. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I wanted out of this mean world. I noticed that one of the officers was slowly inching closer and closer to me as he shouted out commands that I blocked out. My brain was telling my legs to just jump, but something kept me frozen in my spot.
“Ma’am, I need you on the ground with your hands up now!”
“Just shoot me.” I responded as I began to cry.
“We are not going to shoot, but we do need you on the ground now!”
The officer had no sympathy. He saw my tears. He had to know that I was sorry and scared, so why was he still yelling at me to get on the ground. It dawned on me that no one would care about my side of the story. Everyone would just see me as crazed murderer and that wasn’t fair. It would be me against the world and I had nothing left in me to fight. I was done.
“Tell everyone I’m sorry.”
Those were my last words before I closed my eyes and leaped. I thought I would be scared as I braced myself for hitting the ground and likely being run over, but I wasn’t. I felt like I was floating. Countless times, I had watched television and scoffed at people saying their lives flashed before their eyes. It always sounded so corny until it happened to me. I saw elementary days that were so fun and innocent, my days with Jacob by the creek, my days running track in high school, and all the magical moments I had shared with Derrick, Eric, and Jason. I would have given anything to go back and re-live anyone of those moments. I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as possible so that I wouldn’t miss a moment. It made me smile to think about seeing Jackie and my grandparents again. As flashes of Brandon and Amelia’s smiles popped up, I felt myself smile even harder. It was the perfect last memory.
∞∞∞
I woke up to the sound of machines beeping. I wanted to open my eyes, but they felt so heavy. For as far back as I could remember I believed that when you die, your soul goes to either heaven or hell. I learned early on that there were certain things you did in life that ensured that you would have a seat in hell. Among those things were murder and suicide. I had committed both and had resigned to the fact that I had a first class seat to hell, right next to Satan himself. After I jumped, I didn’t know what to expect. Would I wake up in the flames of hell, burning like Jason? My whole body felt like lead making it impossible for me to sit up or move in any direction. I couldn’t even open my mouth to talk. I expected it to be hot in hell, but for some reason, I felt cool air blowing on me. How was that possible? My mind was racing trying to put everything together, when I was finally able to get one eye open. All I saw was ceiling tile, which didn’t make any sense. And what could be beeping. It took several minutes for me to get my other eye open, and though I couldn’t move my neck, I was able to roll my eyes around to scan the area. It didn’t take long to realize that I was not in hell. I was in a hospital room with several machines around me beeping.
Oh my God! I had jumped and survived.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Trish D is a North Carolina native who spends her days writing a range of different short stories and novels. When not writing, she can usually be found with her nose in a book or hands behind the needle of a sewing machine. She’s been writing since she was a teen, but only just recently decided to take the plunge into the publishing world.
