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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Emotional · #1790784
A father's anguish drives him to take matters into his own hands.
Edwin spotted them the moment he stepped off the train.  They were dressed like most others on the platform except for the unmistakable bulge on the tall man’s left hip and the gleam from the metal sticking out of his partner’s jacket.

He watched as their eyes darted back and forth, sizing up everyone exiting the train.  His legs weakened and his heart pounded, but he took a deep breath and was able to make it back on the train undetected. Edwin wondered how they found him, but it was obvious their resources were much better than his.  He only had the three hundred dollars, or what was left of it, that he took the morning he fled.

Edwin sat on the train and considered the situation.  He had been to five cities in two months and was tired. If he went back, could he get a fair trial?  Could he prove temporary insanity?  His victim, Nicholas Price, was a well-respected member of the community, but the real victim was the 16-year-old girl left so traumatized, she committed suicide. 

He was her father; surely a jury would feel his anguish.  He had already lost so much:  a wife who died when his daughter was a toddler, no siblings to speak of, no parents, and now no daughter.

Edwin didn’t even know what had happened between Kaitlyn and her math teacher until it was too late.  All he had now were the journal ramblings of an infatuated young girl.

I can’t believe Mr. Price asked me out! I was hoping he would since he’d been talking to me every day after class.  And when he put his arm around my shoulder, I thought I was going to die!

Tonight Nick told me we were soul mates and when I graduated we would get married!

Why hasn’t Nick called?  Should I call him again?  I already left three messages.  What did I do?

Nick called!  He said he had a good time and I was a wonderful girl, but I was too young and he needed someone more mature.  Not a whiny teenager.

Today I saw Nick with Briana.  I know he likes her because that’s how he used to touch me.  I guess it was me he didn’t want.


Mr. Price was asked about the relationship, but he denied it.  “I’m very sorry, but there was nothing going on between us.  I heard rumors that she had a crush on me, but I never encouraged her.”

His words satisfied everyone, but to Edwin, his sympathy sounded insincere. They were lines from a low budget movie.

Edwin talked to Kaitlyn’s friends, even the girl from the journal.  He begged them for answers, held their arms until they cringed, and cried on their shoulders.  All they could say was they were sorry. 

He left more distraught than before, which only fueled his pain and thoughts. That night Edwin dreamed of Kaitlyn and Mr. Price. He spied on their embrace and intimate whispers. He watched them walk away, hand in hand, until Kaitlyn turned to Edwin and waved goodbye. By morning, exhausted and irrational, he did what he was sure any father would do; he grabbed his gun, drove to the school parking lot and shot the man that killed his daughter.  He’s been on the run ever since. 

Edwin looked out the window at the two men on the platform.  He wasn’t scared of being arrested, he still believed in what he had done. What scared him was the thought of returning to the place where his life had fallen apart; where his wife and daughter died. A strong man, he told himself, would go back and face the consequences. 

After some contemplation, Edwin stood up, his legs now like stone pillars.  Shoulders back, eyes focused straight ahead, he walked off the train. 

“Officers, I am Edwin Porter.  I shot and killed Nicholas Price and by doing so I have chosen my sentence.”

Before the officers could respond, Edwin stretched out his arm and grabbed the bulge on the tall man’s hip.  As he fumbled with the holster, the second officer instinctively pulled the gun from inside his jacket and shot Edwin once in the chest. 

As he laid dying on the platform, he knew all his strength was used that morning two months ago. This act was not one of a strong man, but one of a man desperate to heal the pain.

© Copyright 2011 Halli Gomez (hbgomez at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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