"Hello this is Officer Alex Mansley here; we got a white caucasian male,
about six foot, bullet wound to the chest." He said through his radio.
There were three police cars in the driveway of the Harrison's residence.
"Yeah, a man called us this morning." Officer Mansley said. "He said he saw a young girl that looked to be around 16 or 17, run out of the house with a black backpack, right after he heard the shootings."
[i]"What's the man's name?"[/i]
"Bob Brody. A twenty-eight year old that lives next door." Mansley said.
[i]"Do you have men investigating the crime scene?"[/i]
"Yes, we have detectives searching the house for any evidence or fingerprints and they're checking the back yard. The man said that the young girl buried the murder weapon in the garden. Can someone look up the Harrison family on the computer?!" The officer yelled out.
"Right away sir."
Minutes later, another officer gave Mansley ten printed sheets of information on the Harrison family.
"Alright. Let's see. The father's name is Dirk Quincy Harrison. Age forty- five, father of two, six foot one, black hair, and dark brown eyes. Mother's name is Karen Lyn Harrison. Age thirty nine, mother of two, maiden name is Sparks, five foot one, blonde hair, blue eyes. She was the one that we found dead in the closet of the suspect's bedroom in the Harrison house an hour ago. The Harrison's first child is named Rachel Grace Harrison. Age seventeen, five foot five, brown hair, hazel eyes. There you go, that's the girl. Then we have Joshua Paul Harrison. Died at the age of 13 with an overdose of Advil last year. That sounds suspicious to me Karl." Officer Mansley said through the radio.
[i]"Yeah, Dirk was drunk when the kid complained of an ordinary headache. He overdosed him." [/i] Karl Miller, over the radio, answered.
"Mmm." Officer Mansley muttered.
"Officer, the weapon was indeed buried in the garden. We checked the gun for fingerprints and it's positive for Rachel and Dirk's prints sir." A detective woman said to Mansley.
He nodded.
"Alright, so it seems to me that the girl shot her mother and hid her in the closet while Mr. Harrison was trying to stop her, who, in turn, got shot himself. This girl's in for a lot of time in jail, if not execution." The Sheriff, Marcus Jones, told Officer Alex Mansley, shaking his head.
Mansley just stood there, thinking. He frowned. He wasn't convinced. He needed a good reason as to why Rachel would do such a thing. Then, an idea popped into his head. Rachel's diary...
Rachel climbed out of the woods on the other side of town. She looked around until she found the local gas station. She opened the door and walked in.
"Hello there young lady! How may I help you today?" The Chinese cashier smiled as he walked around the counter.
Rachel smiled a fake smile. "Oh, I'm just looking, thanks."
"Alright, but if you need anything, just holler! I'll be right over here." He said, pointing to behind the counter.
"Okay..."
"Alrighty then..." he muttered other words under his breath as he started counting the money in the tip jar, but Rachel couldn't make out what it was.
Rachel went down the first isle that had all sorts of chips and pretzels. She started to sob, and then her stomach made gurgling sounds. She ran into the bathroom and vomited. She sobbed some more. She slowly got up to shut and lock the door. The room was spinning and she felt nauseous again. She sat down on the floor in the corner, put her head in her hands, and cried.
Rachel was so confused. She didn't know what to do. Her mother was dead when she wasn't even finished grieving about her brother. Now she shot her own drunken father with the gun that killed her mother. Her head was still bleeding, soaking through the hat, and her back had an enormous bruise from the parts of the ceiling that fell down upon her.
She washed her hands and face and opened the door. She grabbed a first aid kit and walked up to the counter.
"Is that all young lady?" The Chinese man asked.
She nodded.
She paid the man, and right when she was about to open the door, the Chinese man called, "Hey! You're on the news!"
Rachel froze and ran up to the TV that was on the counter.
Sure enough, her picture was on breaking news with her name right below the picture, just like real criminals.
"Hello. I'm Susanne Garner with latest on the shootings in Victoria, Texas. I'm here with twenty-eight year old Bob Brody. Mr. Brody, what is it that you saw earlier today at the Harrison's house that was so intriguing, and can you give a detailed description of the murderer?"
[i]Murderer? I'm no murderer. How could they call me that?[/i] she thought
"Well, I saw a girl about sixteen run out of the house with a gun. Then I saw her bury it in the backyard there." He said, pointing at the crowd of investigators.
"She had real short hair, probably about to here," he said, putting his finger to the middle of his neck, "I couldn't see her eyes. Um, well.she had black cargo pants, blue skateboarding shoes, a blue tee shirt that had red writing on it, but I couldn't read out the words because a jean jacket was in the way."
Rachel looked at her shirt, which said 'Tommy Girl' on it.
"The Officers that investigated the shooting have declared the young woman of seventeen, guilty of the charges of killing her mother and father, and then covering it up soon after. That will soon be clarified once they have found the runaway girl, and taken her to court. That's all for now, we'll be back with Sheriff Jones, head of the investigation, in a few moments. This is Susanne Garner, eye witness news. Back to you."
Rachel gasped and started walking backwards.
The cashier looked shocked, but not for long. He grabbed the phone and dialed 911.
Rachel ran out the door and sprinted into an alleyway. She found a dark corner with a tiny hiding place and snuck in. She was panting, trying to catch her breath. Her heart was beating so fast, it hurt. Rachel's head pounded.
"I didn't know anyone else knew about my secret hiding place." A voice said.
Rachel screamed. A flashlight clicked on to reveal a girl Rachel's age.
"Jesus! You scared me!" Rachel said, clutching her chest.
"Sorry, I have a knack for doing that." She said. "I'm Caitlyn, but most people call me Cate."
"I'm Rachel." She said.
"Hi," Caitlyn said.
"Hi."
"What're you doing here?" Rachel asked.
"I'm meeting someone." She said.
"Why? Why here?" she asked.
"It's kind of a long story. You see, my parents left my when I was little, and I had no other family. So I've been gambling for food and money ever since I was young, when I busted out of an orphanage." Caitlyn said.
"Oh wow. I'm sorry." Rachel said.
"It's okay. I'm used to it. It's just the way I have to live."
"I suppose it's the way I'm gonna have to live too." Rachel muttered.
"Why?" Cate asked.
"It's a really long and violent story. To make it shorter, I'll leave out some small details. My dad has always been abusive towards me and my mom. He's a druggy. Earlier today, he killed my mother and tried to kill me. But I got the gun and shot him." Rachel said, wincing. It's as almost if saying it made it final. She admitted it.
Cate looked down, "Did you kill him?"
"I don't know." Rachel started crying again. "He didn't move! And there was blood all over the floor!" She sobbed.
"Shhhh. Shhh." Cate said, comforting Rachel as must as she could. "Your head. It's bleeding bad."
"I know, and it hurts too."
"Well of course. Here, gimme that first aid kit." Cate said, grabbing the kit.
Rachel took off the hat and scooted towards Cate.
"Ooh, ouch. How'd this happen?" she asked.
"I fell on the coffee table at my house when I was running from my dad." Rachel said, wiping her face.
"I'm really sorry."
Rachel nodded.
"Oh but please don't tell anyone what happened! I'll get in so much trouble!" Rachel pleaded.
Caitlyn shook her head. "Don't worry. I won't tell a soul."
Rachel sighed in relief. "Thank you so much. You don't know how much that means to me."
"Caitlyn Jacobs?" A voice said through the darkness.
"That's me." Cate said, all tough. "Hold on a sec." she said as she finished patching up Rachel's head.
Caitlyn's attitude was completely different as she gambled with the boy. More tough and confident.
Rachel had a feeling that Cate was going to be a good friend. At least she'd have a way of getting shelter and money.
Cate won fifty dollars.
"I usually win more, but I could tell that kid was broke!" she laughed.
Rachel smiled, "I have some snacks, a blanket, and one carton of orange juice in my backpack, if you want some."
"Oh! Thanks girl! I haven't been able to show my face in the stores lately because a police saw me break into the store and steal some bread. My gosh, thank you so much." Cate said.
Rachel nodded.
Ever since the shootings, Rachel has felt like a different person. She had a gloomy feeling about her. She didn't want to talk or make any facial expression. Not as much as she used to anyway. She didn't know anymore if she was a good person or a bad person. What she did was out of total defense though, or was it?
There were three police cars in the driveway of the Harrison's residence.
"Yeah, a man called us this morning." Officer Mansley said. "He said he saw a young girl that looked to be around 16 or 17, run out of the house with a black backpack, right after he heard the shootings."
[i]"What's the man's name?"[/i]
"Bob Brody. A twenty-eight year old that lives next door." Mansley said.
[i]"Do you have men investigating the crime scene?"[/i]
"Yes, we have detectives searching the house for any evidence or fingerprints and they're checking the back yard. The man said that the young girl buried the murder weapon in the garden. Can someone look up the Harrison family on the computer?!" The officer yelled out.
"Right away sir."
Minutes later, another officer gave Mansley ten printed sheets of information on the Harrison family.
"Alright. Let's see. The father's name is Dirk Quincy Harrison. Age forty- five, father of two, six foot one, black hair, and dark brown eyes. Mother's name is Karen Lyn Harrison. Age thirty nine, mother of two, maiden name is Sparks, five foot one, blonde hair, blue eyes. She was the one that we found dead in the closet of the suspect's bedroom in the Harrison house an hour ago. The Harrison's first child is named Rachel Grace Harrison. Age seventeen, five foot five, brown hair, hazel eyes. There you go, that's the girl. Then we have Joshua Paul Harrison. Died at the age of 13 with an overdose of Advil last year. That sounds suspicious to me Karl." Officer Mansley said through the radio.
[i]"Yeah, Dirk was drunk when the kid complained of an ordinary headache. He overdosed him." [/i] Karl Miller, over the radio, answered.
"Mmm." Officer Mansley muttered.
"Officer, the weapon was indeed buried in the garden. We checked the gun for fingerprints and it's positive for Rachel and Dirk's prints sir." A detective woman said to Mansley.
He nodded.
"Alright, so it seems to me that the girl shot her mother and hid her in the closet while Mr. Harrison was trying to stop her, who, in turn, got shot himself. This girl's in for a lot of time in jail, if not execution." The Sheriff, Marcus Jones, told Officer Alex Mansley, shaking his head.
Mansley just stood there, thinking. He frowned. He wasn't convinced. He needed a good reason as to why Rachel would do such a thing. Then, an idea popped into his head. Rachel's diary...
Rachel climbed out of the woods on the other side of town. She looked around until she found the local gas station. She opened the door and walked in.
"Hello there young lady! How may I help you today?" The Chinese cashier smiled as he walked around the counter.
Rachel smiled a fake smile. "Oh, I'm just looking, thanks."
"Alright, but if you need anything, just holler! I'll be right over here." He said, pointing to behind the counter.
"Okay..."
"Alrighty then..." he muttered other words under his breath as he started counting the money in the tip jar, but Rachel couldn't make out what it was.
Rachel went down the first isle that had all sorts of chips and pretzels. She started to sob, and then her stomach made gurgling sounds. She ran into the bathroom and vomited. She sobbed some more. She slowly got up to shut and lock the door. The room was spinning and she felt nauseous again. She sat down on the floor in the corner, put her head in her hands, and cried.
Rachel was so confused. She didn't know what to do. Her mother was dead when she wasn't even finished grieving about her brother. Now she shot her own drunken father with the gun that killed her mother. Her head was still bleeding, soaking through the hat, and her back had an enormous bruise from the parts of the ceiling that fell down upon her.
She washed her hands and face and opened the door. She grabbed a first aid kit and walked up to the counter.
"Is that all young lady?" The Chinese man asked.
She nodded.
She paid the man, and right when she was about to open the door, the Chinese man called, "Hey! You're on the news!"
Rachel froze and ran up to the TV that was on the counter.
Sure enough, her picture was on breaking news with her name right below the picture, just like real criminals.
"Hello. I'm Susanne Garner with latest on the shootings in Victoria, Texas. I'm here with twenty-eight year old Bob Brody. Mr. Brody, what is it that you saw earlier today at the Harrison's house that was so intriguing, and can you give a detailed description of the murderer?"
[i]Murderer? I'm no murderer. How could they call me that?[/i] she thought
"Well, I saw a girl about sixteen run out of the house with a gun. Then I saw her bury it in the backyard there." He said, pointing at the crowd of investigators.
"She had real short hair, probably about to here," he said, putting his finger to the middle of his neck, "I couldn't see her eyes. Um, well.she had black cargo pants, blue skateboarding shoes, a blue tee shirt that had red writing on it, but I couldn't read out the words because a jean jacket was in the way."
Rachel looked at her shirt, which said 'Tommy Girl' on it.
"The Officers that investigated the shooting have declared the young woman of seventeen, guilty of the charges of killing her mother and father, and then covering it up soon after. That will soon be clarified once they have found the runaway girl, and taken her to court. That's all for now, we'll be back with Sheriff Jones, head of the investigation, in a few moments. This is Susanne Garner, eye witness news. Back to you."
Rachel gasped and started walking backwards.
The cashier looked shocked, but not for long. He grabbed the phone and dialed 911.
Rachel ran out the door and sprinted into an alleyway. She found a dark corner with a tiny hiding place and snuck in. She was panting, trying to catch her breath. Her heart was beating so fast, it hurt. Rachel's head pounded.
"I didn't know anyone else knew about my secret hiding place." A voice said.
Rachel screamed. A flashlight clicked on to reveal a girl Rachel's age.
"Jesus! You scared me!" Rachel said, clutching her chest.
"Sorry, I have a knack for doing that." She said. "I'm Caitlyn, but most people call me Cate."
"I'm Rachel." She said.
"Hi," Caitlyn said.
"Hi."
"What're you doing here?" Rachel asked.
"I'm meeting someone." She said.
"Why? Why here?" she asked.
"It's kind of a long story. You see, my parents left my when I was little, and I had no other family. So I've been gambling for food and money ever since I was young, when I busted out of an orphanage." Caitlyn said.
"Oh wow. I'm sorry." Rachel said.
"It's okay. I'm used to it. It's just the way I have to live."
"I suppose it's the way I'm gonna have to live too." Rachel muttered.
"Why?" Cate asked.
"It's a really long and violent story. To make it shorter, I'll leave out some small details. My dad has always been abusive towards me and my mom. He's a druggy. Earlier today, he killed my mother and tried to kill me. But I got the gun and shot him." Rachel said, wincing. It's as almost if saying it made it final. She admitted it.
Cate looked down, "Did you kill him?"
"I don't know." Rachel started crying again. "He didn't move! And there was blood all over the floor!" She sobbed.
"Shhhh. Shhh." Cate said, comforting Rachel as must as she could. "Your head. It's bleeding bad."
"I know, and it hurts too."
"Well of course. Here, gimme that first aid kit." Cate said, grabbing the kit.
Rachel took off the hat and scooted towards Cate.
"Ooh, ouch. How'd this happen?" she asked.
"I fell on the coffee table at my house when I was running from my dad." Rachel said, wiping her face.
"I'm really sorry."
Rachel nodded.
"Oh but please don't tell anyone what happened! I'll get in so much trouble!" Rachel pleaded.
Caitlyn shook her head. "Don't worry. I won't tell a soul."
Rachel sighed in relief. "Thank you so much. You don't know how much that means to me."
"Caitlyn Jacobs?" A voice said through the darkness.
"That's me." Cate said, all tough. "Hold on a sec." she said as she finished patching up Rachel's head.
Caitlyn's attitude was completely different as she gambled with the boy. More tough and confident.
Rachel had a feeling that Cate was going to be a good friend. At least she'd have a way of getting shelter and money.
Cate won fifty dollars.
"I usually win more, but I could tell that kid was broke!" she laughed.
Rachel smiled, "I have some snacks, a blanket, and one carton of orange juice in my backpack, if you want some."
"Oh! Thanks girl! I haven't been able to show my face in the stores lately because a police saw me break into the store and steal some bread. My gosh, thank you so much." Cate said.
Rachel nodded.
Ever since the shootings, Rachel has felt like a different person. She had a gloomy feeling about her. She didn't want to talk or make any facial expression. Not as much as she used to anyway. She didn't know anymore if she was a good person or a bad person. What she did was out of total defense though, or was it?