Author's foreword: I'm a little so so on having dialogue heavy chapters. I'm also so so on saying the word hoody so many times. In the future, more action, less hoodies. That is a promise.

"In tragedy every moment is eternity; in comedy, eternity is a moment."- Christopher Fry

Chapter 4: Rat Trap

I slipped through the crack in my door and closed it as fast as I could without looking worried. They already probably think I'm crazy, I can't let them see what's in there…

"Sorry, I'm in the middle of homework." I lied, my mind racing. One of the detectives smirked. He was tall, taller than me, but very frail looking. Long limbs. The other looked like a hockey puck with eyes. Short, rotund. His eyes bore into me.

"We just have a few questions about where you were last night."

I nodded. Act one, scene one. Jack lies to cover his ass.

"Where were you from the hours of 10 pm to 4 am last night?" I remembered my roommate from earlier.

"I was at a party." Idiot, you don't know anything about the party scene on campus. What if they ask where it wa-

"Where was this party at?" Crap. "One of the fraternities…"

The short detective nodded. "Okay. Do you know which one?" Crap. "Uh…to be honest, I really don't. It was kind of a rough night…" I smiled sheepishly, hoping it would draw away from the possible hole in my alibi.

"How old are you?" Shit. I'm underage. "20. And I know, 21 is the drinking age. But you know how college is…" The tall detective smirked again. The short one didn't. "We aren't here to bust you for drinking. But, we need you to come downtown."

It's over. "Um…why?" The tall detective spoke up. "We think we have something of yours."

"Sure. Can you give me a minute?" The detectives nodded. "We'll be here."

I cracked open the door to my room and slipped through. My mind repeated their words over and over.

We think we have something of yours. What does that mean? Did I leave something behind at Samantha's? My blood? My clothes? No…

Something dawned on me.

Jacket. I had thrown my jacket away in disgust after the blood from the administrator had soaked the sleeve. And the news report…they said they found a jacket. "Shit…" I paced back and forth.

I can go out my window…I can try and run…I stared outside. The sun was shining brightly. I'd never make it… My mind centered on another problem. If they take me outside, I only have a few minutes before I'm charcoal…

I winced at the mental image of me being escorted by two police detectives. Guiding me to the car. The sun shining down. My skin beginning to sizzle and crack. I burst into flames just before I get in the backseat of the car, onlookers bewildered and the two officers aghast. And then what comes after that…

I shuddered. Tenth circle… "No."

That was when I decided that I wouldn't let myself do that. Not for the time being. I would rather live forever on Earth then risk being sent to…whatever. I didn't fully believe Samantha's story (it was pretty ridiculous), but she was right about one thing. And she definitely knew more about vampires than I did.

I put on a small hoody, and raised the hood up. "Please, please work…"

"Yeah boss, we are bringing him down now…No, we didn't. He didn't seem like someone who was capable of…that. He was more concerned with his underage drinking then anything. I know, I know. Alright, I'll be back in a few minutes."

I wished I could hear the other side of the phone, but what I did hear helped alleviate some of my concern. As long as I played the innocent, studious, and occasionally rascal-like college student, I might be good. I opened the door.

"Sorry, just saving an essay."

The tall detective motioned, and I stepped through the door. I walked down the stairs, the detectives behind me. I rounded the corner. The dorm exit was in sight. I gulped. The sun seemed to be on full blast. Everything was soaked in light. No shade cover. I could barely see the police car parked on the curb in the distance. I gulped again.

"Don't be nervous kid. We aren't arresting you or anything." The tall detective smiled assuredly when I turned to look at him.

I adjusted my hood. "Yeah, right. This is my first time being escorted to a cop car though."

I opened the door to the outside. The sun hit my hoody's sleeve.

And then my whole body went into the light. I could feel it, but not as much as before. The hoody was offering me some protection. I sighed with relief.

But you don't have forever… An alien thought entered my brain. It wasn't my own, I knew that much. I picked up my pace accordingly. The sun hit my face with every step, I readjusted my hood again. I could feel my face starting to sizzle.

I wondered what would happen if I kept on like this. Would my face melt off? Would it fall to the ground like a mask on an actor? Or would my whole body follow suit, and collapse into ashes? I shuddered.

"Here we are." The tall detective stepped in front of me and unlocked the back seat of the car. It wasn't a standard police car, it was an old car. It was rust colored and brown. I hastily got in the back and closed the door. I thanked some sort of higher power for tinted windows.

The short detective got in the driver's seat, and the tall detective rode shotgun. "It's not too bad a ride." The tall detective said. The short detective just grunted for affirmation.

"O-okay."

The ride lasted for what seemed like a millennium. Cars past by my window. I slid down the seat a little.

If they have my jacket…No, I know they do. I need to come up with something. Think. I thought about every possible explanation for my jacket. None of them seemed completely convincing. Eventually I decided on the one I felt was best.

We arrived at the police station. The two detectives got out first, and the tall one opened my door for me. I stepped out, shying away from the sun's direction and turning my back to it. We entered the station.

"Alright, this way Jack." The short detective motioned for me to follow him. We entered a room with the words INTERROGATION on the front, written in big gold letters. I winced in my mind, but tried to keep a straight face.

"Have a seat. You want water or anything?" I shook my head. I couldn't remember the last time I drank, but it was the last thing on my mind.

"Okay. Wait here, I'll be right back." The short detective left.

I spread my legs out on the chair and looked up at the ceiling. I tried to hold onto my nerves, but my hands kept shaking. I put them in the pockets of my hoody.

The detective came in with a bag marked EVIDENCE. He emptied the contents on the table in front of me, and sat down.

My jacket.

Shit… I already knew they had it, but seeing it in front of me was still unsettling.

"Know what this is?"

I feigned calm. "I think it's one of my jackets." The detective wrote something on a note pad. "You said you were at a party last night. Do you remember what time you left?"

I feigned recollection. "It might have been…2…or 3, maybe. It's a little hard to remember."

"Okay…do you remember what happened after you left?" The story I came up with ringed to the front of my mind.

"I think I…I think I got into a fight or something." The detective's eyes widened a little.

"A fight?" I nodded. "I remember two guys. A big one, and a not so big one." The detective stared into my eyes.

"Can you describe them a little better?" The two muggers. Another alien thought. Or was it my own?

"Yeah. I think they were Hispanic, part of one of the gangs around here. I remember them saying ese a lot, for some reason. And I think they wanted my money."

"You mean you got mugged?" I nodded. "I think so."

"You think or you know?" The detective's tone changed noticeably. "I thi-, I mean, I know. Yeah, that's what happened."

"I see…Jack, what did you do when they tried to mug you?" I feigned recollection once more. "I think I tried to fight back."

The detective raised his eyebrow. "You fought back?"

I nodded. "I was still a little drunk I guess." The detective nodded. "Now this is starting to come together…"

I hoped it meant in a good way. Well, good for me at least. He wrote something down on his notepad.

"Did you fight them off?" "I think so. But one of them got me in the stomach." I motioned to the welt on my stomach.

"Can I see the bruise?" I nodded, and lifted my shirt up. The welt was still noticeable, I thanked some higher power for that.

"I see." The detective wrote something down on his notepad again.

"Did you get hit anywhere else?" The blood on my sleeve… "Yeah, I think in the face. I remember blood coming from my mouth." The detective nodded again.

"That explains the blood on the sleeve of your jacket. You must have wiped it off, I guess?"

I nodded. "I guess so." The detective stood up abruptly.

"Alright then. At first, we thought the jacket was a part of that other case." I raised my eyebrow.

"What other case?" The detective quieted himself. "It's still under investigation, so I can't talk about it." I nodded understandingly.

"Okay. Are we done?" The detective nodded. "Yup. I want you to try and remember the mugger's face's with our sketch artist though. And you'll have to sign for your jacket back, but for the most part, we're done here. If you remember anything else though…"

I nodded once more. "I'll call. People shouldn't be allowed to run around hurting people like that." I winced at my own words. Hypocrite repeated in my mind.

The detective brought me to the sketch artist, and after a half hour of "No, not like that." and "The eyes were narrower.", I signed my jacket out.

The tall detective offered to drive me back to the campus. I accepted, eager to avoid the sun as much as possible. The ride was noticeably shorter. On the way there, I congratulated myself.

Good job shifting the blame Jack. Nice form. You're the best. My conscious began to call out for me to tell the truth, to explode at the detective driving, to tell him everything was a lie. I resisted the urge, the only thing holding back the words was the reality of my situation.

"Sorry about that, kid." The detective apologized. "No harm done. Hope you catch all the bad guys running around this city." Too bad you missed this one.

I waved him off. I casually walked across the field, and broke into a full sprint when the police car was out of sight. The sun wore down on me, but I managed to get into my dorm hall before my skin crackled. I walked up the stairs, and opened my door. I stepped into my room, eager to clean up the mess I had made earlier.

But I didn't see a mess. Everything was exactly as it was before I had freaked out. Well, my guitar was still broken. But it was neatly stacked up on my desk. Evidence of attempted repair was there as well, a bottle of glue was lying next to the guitar.

I was alarmed. Someone had gotten into my room. And they hadn't stolen anything. They had cleaned it.

I stepped over to my bed. Samantha's book was still there. And there was something tucked inside of it. I pulled it out and unfolded the piece of paper.


"Hey Jack. I cleaned up everything, you really have a temper, don't you? Call me as soon as you get back from the police."


In frilly writing, SAMANTHA was signed at the bottom of the letter. I crumpled it up and threw the letter in my garbage.

Call you? This is still all your fault.

I looked at my clock. 2 pm. I had missed all of my classes for the day. I flopped down on my bed once more. My head was mentally drained from the police station. I clutched my jacket in my hand. I let sleep come over me, this being the first time in days it happened voluntarily.