I wasn’t there Don’t involve me Your despair I didn’t see

I wasn’t a witness I cannot lie It’s your fitness Don’t ask why Tessa🦋

(I’m sorry for rushing again.)

My friend has been arrested and I’ve been asked to vouch for them. But I was never actually with them. What shall I do? Shall I lie to the police about what happened? Shall I say I wasn’t with them? This is a complicated dilemma.

I’m going to say that I wasn’t with them, but I know they wouldn’t commit a crime like this. Maybe then I’ll be believable. Maybe I’ll be trustworthy. I hope it works.

He was right next to my eye. Our eyes might as well have been kissing because of how close he was

‘I know your lying, Dave’ the detective said, as he snarled at me

He was right, I wasn’t with Jace. I haven’t see Jace in the last 2 days, but I know he didn’t do it. Because it was me.

Jace was my identical twin brother, he had lived a trouble life—as he chose to stray down the path of crime, delinquency and deviance.

So, what was wrong using him as a scapegoat?

I mean, my reputation was spotless

Wouldn’t you rather add dirt to someone that’s already dirty, than something that’s clean?

Of course, you will choose the former, as you’ll receive no trouble.

‘I know it was your brother!’ He bellowed at me, as his spit flew across my face

Even though, I could have just shifted the blame on Jace, I had too stall as much time as I could.

‘He didn’t do it…’ I carefully and lowly mumbled, as I tossed my head to the side.

The detective growled at me, but he cautioned himself backwards. However, soon his anger was short-lived, as his junior came running in.

‘We found Jace!’

I could feel beads of sweat, race across my face, as I nervously glance at the junior.

Jace had already been found, so quickly. I had locked him away, as a part of the plan, but now they found him.

‘Ohhh, is that sweat I see???’ The detective chuckled, as he laughed at me.

‘Shut up!!!’ I bellowed, as my voice was no longer restraint to a deep level. It came out a bit squeaky.

The detective tilted his head in confusion, but soon his eyes widened in realisation.

Dammmit, he realised what had happened since my voice had changed

‘Jace…!’ He screamed, as he looked at me in stunned silence.

Yes, that’s right. I am Jace. I was using Dave as my scapegoat.

I smile at the detective and softly whisper:

‘So, what if I am Jace?’

Despite how my face became a waterfall of sweat, a small beam of a smile was painted on my face.

They had no evidence on me. All I had done was incriminate myself, by lying to their faces.

‘There’s no law in this place!!! Only justice!!’ The detective screamed, as he punched right in the chin. My face flew up and I collapsed onto the floor

Dang, felt like someone used a dumbbell on me. Ha, reminds me of the time, when someone brought a dumbbell to a fight.

‘I will convict you!’ The detective yelled, as he grabbed me by the collar.

‘Senior, relax!!! You know we can’t do this.’ Quivered the junior

‘Haha, you’ve got nothing on me! And you know It!!’ I excitedly yell back, as I raise my hands

Suddenly, the door swings open.

And before us, is Dave.

‘Jace….’ Dave quivered, as he glued his hands to his side.

‘It’s been a while…Dave.’ I whispered.

Dave looked pale, sick and solemn, I mean who wouldn’t. He had been caged into my basement, for 2 days and he had been living on biscuits and chocolate milkshakes.

‘I’ve done what you wanted…’ he nervously whispered.

My face lights up with joy and with all the strength I could muster, I punched the detective in the face. While Dave kicked the junior. He looked so weak, as if he would fall over—but he easily made the kick seem like child’s play.

Soon, we were both running out of the police stations. Confused police watched us go, but they soon fulfilled their roles as cats.

We were mice, being chased by a horde of cats.

‘So, Jace, what’s the plan.’

‘To Elsa’s house!’ I reply

Dave’s face became pale, but he nodded. He had always hated Elsa and only hated with her, because of me.

We raced outside and onto the streets. I hoped into the car and Dave began driving.

The detective yelled from behind, but it was too late, we were already speeding off into the night.

The police gave chase, but I don’t think it’s easy to catxh a flying car.

“I don’t understand. Why are you here?”

Dina looked quizzically at the two policemen standing on her step. One was a rather stout woman with short brown hair who looked to be about her mother’s age. The other, a very tall man who was completely bald, looked like some television star that Dina could not recall. They looked ludicrous together, like cartoonish figures.

“May we come in a moment? We just need to ask you a couple of questions.” The woman had stepped forward, placing her foot against the door so Dina could not actually shut it. “It will only take a few moments.”

“What could you possibly want from me?”

“A few moments of your time, madam.” This time it was Bald Head who spoke, and Dina sighed. It was obvious to her that they weren’t going to just go away and by now she was curious about why these two police were on her step at seven a.m. on a Sunday morning.

“Well, come in then. I was just pouring a cup of coffee if you will excuse me for a moment.” She paused and then her inherent good manners kicked in as the two sat down on the easy chairs facing her sofa. “May I bring you coffee?”

“I would love a cup. Thank you.” This was the woman, and she smiled at Dina. “I’m Sergeant Harrington and this is Lieutenant Jenkins. Harry, do you want coffee?”

“I’ll pass,” Baldy said, taking out a small notebook and crossing his legs.

Dina poured the coffee and carried it back into the front room, settling herself on the sofa and looking at the two of them. She said nothing, just stared and sipped, and they stared back at her for a moment. Finally the Lieutenant spoke up.

“You are acquainted with a young woman name Theresa Connant.” It was a statement, not a question, and Dina nodded.

“Theresa and I are co-workers. Why? Has something happened to her?”

“We’ll get to that in a moment,” he replied. “We’re you with her last night? “

“We went out for a drink after work. At that Park Tavern just around the corner from the building where we work. What is this all about?”

“How long were you at the tavern?” This time it was the woman who spoke; Sergeant Harrington, Dina remembered.

“I’m not exactly sure of the time. I had had a bit to drink and Theresa and I shared some fish and chips and chatted for a while. I got a taxi home at some point by I am not sure what time. Has something happened to Theresa?”

“She is currently under investigation for an incident at the tavern last night,” the bald guy said. “I can’t give you complete details but she said that you could vouch for her whereabouts for the evening. So again, what time did you leave the tavern? Please take a few minutes to try and pin down the time.”

“A stabbing? Is. Theresa all right? Is she hurt?”

“She’s fine. Unfortunately, a patron of the tavern, a man called Ernie Bankston, was stabbed and killed and your acquaintance is a person of interest in the stabbing. She said you could vouch for her being with you until midnight. Is that correct?”

Dina paused. The fact was, she had absolutely no idea what time it was when she left the tavern and arrived home. She had had way too much to drink and the taxi driver had had to help her unlock her door. She had collapsed into bed, not even bothering to change out of her clothes. Theresa had told these policemen she could vouch for her whereabouts all evening, but Dina knew that was not true. She also knew that Theresa and Ernie Bankston had been drinking at the bar much of the evening. That was one of the reasons Dina had had too much too drink and finally just left; Theresa had left her in the lurch to go flirt with Ernie.

“So. Can you tell us Theresa was with you all last evening?’ It was Short Lady. “Mr. Bankston was stabbed to death in the back alley behind the Park Tavern sometime after eleven p.m. The bartender recollected he was with Miss Connant at the bar at least until then, but then he could not recall when either of them left. We’re you with Miss Connant after that time?”

Dina sat quietly. Whatever she said in the next few moments could be a life-or-death statement for Theresa. Theresa had said she was with Dina and that Dina was her alibi.

But was that the truth?

Kyle was always kind to me. I think it was because he secretly loved me.

Kyle was arrested last night as a suspect of the murder of our neighbour Daniel Smith. Kyle had listed me as his alibi, said he was with me at the time of the murder.

I must say I was very confused.

Why would he say that?

I wasn’t with Kyle.

Why would he say that?

I hated Daniel Smith.

I wanted him dead.

I wasn’t with Kyle.

Why would Kyle say that for me?

Kyle was always kind to me. I think it was because he loved me.

My hands are trembling with reluctant anticipation. Staring eyes burn straight through me with every glimpse of content. The claustrophobic prison-like walls were all I needed to signify what was now at the risk for me. If friendships are meant to be strengthened by mutual trust and aid, then why do I have no compelling reason as to why I feel so strongly in debt to aid Corey after what he did today?

“We just have a few questions…” the investigator peered.

Such a cliché question yet one with such weight to it. I don’t want to be affiliated with Corey’s thievery. Every moment of hesitation only further insinuated the guilty portrayal I was falsely exaggerating.

“Can you tell me your whereabouts at 2:48pm on Tuesday the 2nd of July?’

Crap. This is all happening too fast. Where did we agree that we would be? Better question why did I comply with Corey’s ridiculous scheme. Seconds stretched out to hours as my thoughts became too concerned with the ominous ticking rather than my fictional location which I was stupid enough to agree with! He knows I’m overthinking, if I wasn’t lying then I wouldn’t have to ponder this too much, right? Perhaps they can assume that I’m simply riddled with nerves for a completely innocent reason. Doubtful, but hopeful.

“2nd? Erm…”

I should stall them, give myself some much needed breathing space. I tried playing it off like the date wasn’t at all important so why would I remember such a minor memory. If only my useless brain could kick into action and remember what we agreed upon. It’s integral that our stories match up here. I cant go to jail. It’s just not me. I wouldn’t survive in there.

“I don’t quite rem-“

The wary whimpers and stutters that I was forcing out of me had became unmatched and unconvincing even to myself at this point.

“That’s enough, we’ll continue this later.”

Either I’ve been given time to collect my thoughts or secured a dismal fate. Hopefully not the latter - but it’s doubtful.

The End.

Ella, why did you have to kill him. I cant protect you now. Your whole life down the drain. I wish I could do more. Ella, my love, you didnt have to do it alone, we could have found another way. A way we could still be together. But now we are separated by a pane of glass, I wish it were me on the other side, so you could live your life in peace and tranquillity. If only I were there for you, like you were for me.

Today was the first day it hit me hard, how we wouldn’t be able to really see each other for years and years. To the naked eye, seeing you dressed in ragged orange signified your devilish actions, but to me it signified the radiance of the sun in your heavy blue eyes, after only two days, and instantly I knew you didn’t deserve this.

I had to save you, once and for all.

"She was with me" is what I would tell them, the judge, the jury, the lot. It would take a whole lot of convincing but I would make it work. I would put my heart and soul into this, to make sure we get our happily ever after. It’s all I’ve ever wanted in life: you, me and maybe even the pitter patter of feet rushing across the floor. I would make sure you didn’t go down, I would fight your corner, I would save you.

I would do anything to see you out of the orange overalls which make you look despicable, anything to see you in an outfit of your choice, an outfit that compliments your short, dazzling hair, An outfit that makes you look tall, an outfit chosen for me. For that I would risk it all…

I will whisper "I love you Ella" as I lay down and fall into an uneasy slumber without you next to me. I will tell you that next time we fall asleep in each others arms, I will stroke your hair as we fall asleep, and most importantly, you will be free.

• Cal :)

A sharp rapping on the door, I look up, raise my eyebrow. At this time of night? This probably isn’t good.

I set my evening meal down on the side and slowly raise up from my comfortable armchair. My joints aren’t what they were. My ankles pop as I take the first step on the trek to the front door, visible yet somehow still seems so far away.

As I get to the door I slowly open the latch and open the door just a crack. On the other side are two broad surly looking men. They mean business. They glare at me through the crack, silent, waiting expectantly for me to open the door then. To them there’s really no choice for me, the door is going to open and they’re going to do whatever it is they’re here for.

I pull the door open wide, resignation sitting heavily within the pit of my stomach. No point in doing anything else. The men look me up and down, apparently not that impressed with what they see. Blank expressions changing not a minutia from the moment before. I set my shoulders, stand up straight as best as I can.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

The men continue to stare, one moves his hand to the hilt of the sword at his waist. Finally, after what seems like eons one deigns to speak.

“We’d like to talk to you. Do you know Conner McCree?” I nod in assent, this isn’t good. I haven’t seen Conner in months, he’s a good guy but he only ever brings trouble with him. The man continues.

“He told us you were with him last night at the old golden badger, until past midnight. Can you confirm this?”

He rests his hand on the doorframe, a simple action but somehow intimidating. I nod again, though it feels like they can see right through me. I was home all night last night and at least one of my neighbours could attest to that, were they asked.

“There was a robbery you see, someone broker into a jewellers. Conner was caught with some of the goods, but swears he bought them today and knew nothing of the robbery. You know anything about that?”

I shake my head, panic setting in, why has he chosen me of all people to be his alibi. The man crosses his arms, unimpressed. His eyes wander over my shoulder, to the rack of locksmiths tools on the bench near the door.

“Interesting set of tools you got there. Convenient you’d have those to hand the morning after a jewellers was broken into huh”

No no, this is not good at all.

“We’ll I’m a locksmith” I stammer, my terror making me feel guilty, when I didn’t even do anything.

“Likely” he replies, his foot stepping inside the doorway, preventing me from shutting the door. “I think the boss is going to want to have a chat with you old man” and with that the men shoulder into my house. I try in vain to struggle, but it’s pointless. They bend my arms behind my back and Ford March me out into the street. I can feel everyone’s eyes on me as they lead me to the back of a cages wagon, easily lifting me up inside. The cage slows locked behind me and I’ve no option but to sit down on the dirty floor and stare as the wagon starts to trundle down the street.

What had I got myself into and how was I going to come back from this. I had no idea.

The phone rang thirty seven times before Charles Whatley managed to scramble out of bed, down the steps, and into the kitchen to grab it off the wall.

“Uhhh ahem!” He cleared his throat. “Who is calling this late?”

“Charles Whatley, this is the Brantville Police Department, my name is officer Harris, I would like to ask you something.”

“At two in the morning!?” Charles barked in groggy frustration.

“Do you know anyone of the name of ‘Potato Eyes Johnson?”

“What!?”

“Potato Eyes Johnson. Do you know anyone of that name?” The officer asked.

“Potato what!? Is this a joke!?”

“This is no joke. Johnson told us he was with a one Charles Whatley all night long during a string of robberies on the east side.” The officer explained.

The name suddenly struck in Charles head. ‘Johnson’ he did know. Ole Johnson was an elderly man who kept an eye on all the houses on the street. Charles had come to know the man pretty well, and even played cards with him and a few other neighborhood friends. The man was retired and had nothing but time on his hands. He also liked to drink heavily and swear at the neighborhood children who rode their bicycles too close to his lawn. Somehow the idea of Johnson being a criminal mastermind almost made Charles burst out laughing, but he held his composure.

“Are you talking about Ole Johnson?” Charles asked. “I know an Ole Johnson. He lives down the street.”

“Sir.” The officer sighed. “We cannot ID the man, he claims to be called ‘Potato Eyes Johnson’. He claims he was at your house playing cards in your garage with a couple buddies.”

“He claimed that did he?” I asked, gaining a sinister grin. “Tell me something officer, what sort of trouble is Johnson facing?”

“Well its just a few misdemeanor thefts and a drunk in public charge. He’ll be looking at a fine and some community service.”

From the background of the officer’s end of the phone, Charles heard the familiar voice of Ole Johnson. “Come on man! Tell em! Tell em about the cards! Tell em how I always beat you!”

I rolled my eyes. “Officer?”

“Yeah?”

“We didn’t play cards tonight. Throw him in the drunk tank.”

“Ah. I see. Well thank you for your honesty.” The officer said.

The voice of Johnson: “What was that? Did he say what I told ya!? What did he say?”

And then the phone call ended. Charles Whatley rubbed sleep out of his eyes, turned on the kitchen sink faucet and stuck his head under drinking straight from it. He wiped his lips and stumbled back to bed. By tomorrow it would all have been a dream.

“Why should we believe you? We know you two are very close.”

Their hands were neatly folded, as if to give off the illusion that the tension in the air was hidden by their very normal nonchalant behavior. There was nothing unnatural about how they spoke in deadpan unison. How their backs were unbendingly stiff regardless of how they moved, as if their vertebrae were hot-glued together. It wasn’t strange at all how they looked like they were dressed two centuries behind, or how they knew Arthur. Or me.

They stared at me blankly through dark sunglasses. I half expected them to lick their identically chapped lips with assumingely very normal lizard tongues. “Uhm,” I paused. It’s not like they were wrong. Arthur and I were close; and in all that time, fantastical things always seemed to happen to him.

Apparently, including being the target of two very strange, very large, dangerous men in outdated suits. With very sharp looking rapiers at their hips.

I steeled my resolve, eager to have them release me. “It’s not a lie. Arthur couldn’t have taken your uhm, roe-“

“-clutch.” They corrected sharply.

“Right. Clutch, because well first, he doesn’t like eggs. And second, he was actually with me, at the movies.” I tried to meet their eyes, but didn’t know which one to look at. I shifted uncomfortably.

“Which film did you view?” Their voices were cool and soothing, which made the hair on the back of my neck stand even straighter.

“Uhm. The Hunger Games?”

“The film that released nine years ago?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Do you know what we do with liars where we are from?” Their hands drifted to their swords.

“I-it’s a good thing I’m not a liar then.” I forced a loud chuckle.

They abruptly stood in unison.

I quickly located the door behind them and held my breath, muscles tensing in my legs.

“Thank you for your time,” they crooned at me, bowing slightly, “we will keep in touch.”

“Oh yes,” I said, scrambling up to speed walk the hell out of the room. “Please do that.”

After flinging myself out of the doors to wheeze out any lizard spores I might have sitting in my lungs, my first thought was to run directly across the street to the local coffee shop.

As much as I wanted to be as far away as possible from that room, I needed to sit.

The warm smell of coffee and baked goods greeted my nose, replacing the metal stink of the interrogation room. I sat at a table by the window, but before I could pick out one of the swirling thoughts in my brain, I heard a familiar voice.

“Bo! Hey!” It was Arthur. He beamed at me from the other side of the glass. “Come out here! I wanna show you something!” He beckoned.

I noticed my knees were trembling as I went out to meet him, placing careful eyes on the big office doors across the street. “Dude!” I hissed. “What the hell did you do? Weren’t you locked up? These two-“

“Bro, it’s a long story, but check out the goods.” He said, producing a woven bag full of round multicolored spheres. It looked like he went dip-netting in a Chuck-e-Cheese ball pit. If the balls were slimy and glowed from the inside like some kind of smelly wet flashlight. “Fuck me,” I said.

A sudden bone rattling shriek filled the air. My eyes snapped to the building across the street. There stood Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Diamondback Rattlesnake, mouths wide open; screaming in unison with their jaws hanging at an inhuman degree.

“Liar!” They screeched, drew their blades and lurched forward.

“Oh fuck me,” I said, tripping backwards.

Arthur tossed the dripping bag at me. “Run! Take the eggs! I’ll find you!” He had miraculously produced a sword from nowhere and leaped in front of me to meet them. “Go!”