It’s hard starting to write in your mid forties. Did your ideas come from watching a movie, or from reading stories since you were 3? Are the nightmares I draw from mine, or someone else’s. So dear reader, I never really put to paper what goes on in my head.
Except this story, such a horrible terrifying story, this one is real. This one I saw with my own eyes right in front of me. This one, God damn, this one is why tomorrow I’m pleading guilty to a murder I didn’t commit. The murder of my best friend, the sweetest person, my little brother Kevin.
Kevin was amazing. Honestly, there are not enough words to describe Kevin, in all the dictionaries, in all the languages of the world. I could fill the library of congress with books about how amazing he was, and it wouldn’t be enough.
So I will start with what the average person would tell you. Kevin was disabled. Mentally and physically. He had the mind of a 6 year old and was trapped in a chair of metal and plastic. He flapped his hands and smiled and laughed when he was excited, and pouted and yelled when he was mad or scared. That’s what the average person would tell you.
I can tell you the different ways he would smile and laugh based on his excitement level. I can tell you the things he loved best, by how his hands would flap and shake. He didn’t speak, but I can tell you his favorite animal was our dog Duke, a big old mutt. And his favorite thing to do was play with my friends and I as kids.
When we were kids, he had an aide. Most of the time the aide wouldn’t let him do much. If he got overexcited, it was hard to calm him down. But we would distract the aide, and wheel him down the path, bringing him to whatever shennanigans kids do. He was part of our group. It was me, Chris, Matt, and Kevin. Later, we would get in trouble by our parents, but it was worth it. Keven’s laugh as we ran down the path with him rolling in front of us, was the best sound in the world.
As we got older, and Kevin stayed the same, we started branching out and doing other things. Girls, cars, trips, you know, the usual teen transforming into adults. Kevin still laughed when we saw him, but our escaping the aide with him became less. Until it stopped.
I grew up, got married, got divorced, you know the usual bullshit people do. But Kevin, he just got bigger, he was still the same inside. I hadn’t been home in over a year, we talked on the phone, my parents holding the phone so he could hear. Kevin got upset and yelled over that phone, and I knew he was right I hadn’t been by to see him. So I made the trip, it wasn’t even that far. Just stupid adult excuses of being too busy. So my guilt was pretty high.
When I got to town, I reconnected with my other buddies, and we reminisced about our trips down the path with Kevin. So someone had the bright idea we should do it again. The worst mistake of my life.
We showed up at my parents house, half in the bag of course. The plan was for me to distract the aide and Chris and Matt would push Kevin down the path to the river. It worked perfectly, the aide was new, had no idea of the stunts we pulled, and as she frantically followed me to see what was wrong, I gave her the slip.
I was laughing so hard about the prank, it took me a bit longer than normal to get to the river. When I got there, damn this is so hard to write, when I got there I could hear yelling. I could hear Kevin yelling. I never heard him yell like that. Good God he was so scared, screaming, I never heard that sound come out of him!
I burst out into the clearing and I saw his wheelchair empty! Matt and Chris were unconscious on the ground. And Kevin was in the river, being pushed under the water by a man similar to my build. I cried out in terror and ran into the river to stop him. Who would be so cruel? How could someone do that?
It was too late. By the time I got to them, Kevin was no longer yelling, or fighting, or breathing. His lifeless corpse floated toward me and I instinctively grabbed him. I was crying and screaming. Trying to get my baby brother to shore, it was so hard, the current kept pulling him away from me. I didn’t even care about his murderer. I needed to get him to shore, to do cpr, to call 911, to do something!
I pulled him on to shore, finally, my voice in splinters from screaming so hard and so long. I managed to finally see his attacker. My heart dropped into an ice cold stop. The kind that takes a minute to start again, but it physically hurts doing it.
The attacker, his face, his body, was me. That motherfucker smiled at me and waved like the fucking it clown. I’ve never been able to be warm since, because as he walked away his body shifted, his clothes changed, his hair grew longer, he became a she. And not only a she, she became Kevin’s aide.
The paramedics came, the police too. Matt and Chris were given something to bring them awake. And they started yelling at me asking why I did it. Over and over. I still hear my best friends asking why I killed Kevin in my head. My dreams are only this. I wake up screaming!
Tomorrow I go before the judge to enter a plea. My lawyer wants me to plead not guilty by reason of insanity or something like that. I’m pleading guilty. I’m confessing to the crime. They have the death penalty in my state. I have never been more thankful for anything in my life. Except for my baby brother that is.