I admit it. I murdered him. I have kept this secret for about ten years, and my guilty conscience mustn’t burden me any longer. Writing all of this out will certainly bring comfort, as I know none of you will ever find me.
Some background on Bryce, for those who didn’t get the pleasure of meeting him when he was alive.
Bryce lived in a modest two story home and attended Cicidan Middle School. He was in the same class as me, of course. In class, he was always modest and intelligent, everybody looked up to him and his wits.
He had so many friends, he was the popular type. But, specifically, he always would hang out with Tristan and I. He was the light of everybody’s day. Even though when we met up it felt like I just watched from a distance, I loved every moment with them, although I was never acknowledged. I had quite the crush on him.
Watching him and Tristan felt like a movie, for instance,
On a cold, humid day, the piercing rain showered over Tristan. Bullies had fought him and left him there to sob, alone. I did nothing about it, I just wanted to see what my dear Bryce would do. He ran over to him.
“Tristan!! What happened? Are you hurt?” Bryce yelled in a panic, the whole school could hear.-
Tristan’s words were muffled and he could do nothing but sob.
Bryce examined him, after concluding that Tristan was alright he brought him to his feet and simply just hugged him in the rain, without a raincoat or anything. Tristan seemed to be very comforted.
“There, there. Come on, you’ll catch a cold, silly.” Bryce consoled as he wrapped Tristan’s arm around his shoulder.
I wouldn’t change a thing about our moments together. As life progressed, I took track classes in order to ‘catch up with Bryce’. More metaphorical at the time, though. He was a jock and popular, even today I wish could’ve been like him. He was popular among all of the girls and would never plan a deliberate murder.
I watched him grow up, literally. He was my everything. But, everything can turn to nothing in a matter of minutes. He had found my glove by his bed. For context, I might’ve been stroking his soft, brown hair and forgot to take my glove as I heard footsteps down the hallway. He immediately recognized it as mine, though I was touched, this was not a good thing. He informed his shitty father. I overheard all of this and remember each word.
“Bryce, what the FUCK?? You said it was WHO’S glove??”
“W-What? Please don’t be upset, it isn’t his fault he forgot it!” Bryce quickly pleaded.
“God damn it,” he grunted.
“Go walk the dog, I don’t think you should stay home right now.”
“Alright,” he said, calling Pancake’s name and shaking the leash.
I never liked his father, he and I were involved in illegal drug deals and he completely bailed on me! I took all of the blame. The audacity, god, it gives me headaches to think about. I’m surprised he didn’t recognize me while registering Bryce for the school, perhaps his mother signed him up? In any case, Bryce was an amazing opening for revenge.
His father arrived at my door, too bad I wasn’t home. I was with Bryce, well, burying his body. I ambushed him as he came home from walking their dog. He tried outrunning me, I’m lucky I took those classes, right? That idiot ran straight into an empty alleyway where I brutally slit his throat and stomach. I can still recall the look of pure horror on his face. He yelped, I’d assume in pleasure. I had tons of fun with his body, in a quiet place, and finally buried his poor soul. After years of stalking for some petty revenge, it was complete. I resigned my job as a teacher and flew far out of state. Too bad it ended like this, but I think my desire to be with him drove me to insanity.
The effects of my actions led his mother to hang herself and his father to be on an everlasting mission to find me, linking me to Bryce’s death. His father has left me countless voice messages- and I mean COUNTLESS demanding to know where Bryce is and why he didn’t come home. He was so vulnerable and it was quite obvious that he blamed himself for his son’s ‘disappearance’. It became annoying and repetitive, so I simply changed my number.
INSCRIPTION/VOICE-MESSAGE:/2022-8-04
“Ple-please tell me he’s safe. I’m begging ya, man. I don’t know why you did this. You.. YOU TOOK AWAY THE TWO PEOPLE I LOVED. WHY?? PLEASE MAN, BRING BRYCE BACK. BRING HIM BACK HO-HOME. BRING HIM BACK TO ME. I’LL GIVE ANYTHING. I CAN EVEN GIVE MY LIFE TO KNOW HES SAFE, SHIT. AH-“