Page 36 of Blood Red Serenade
The trial was fairly short. Andrew confessed to everything he did to Zane that night. The jury and American viewers at home watched in shock as he explained how he murdered my ex-boyfriend in cold blood, as if he were explaining how to play a common chord on the bass. To say it was spine-chilling would be putting it mildly.
He didn't bat an eye when the opposing lawyer displayed the bloody stone cross or the tangled and damaged electrical cord. He never denied a single action they pinned against him when we all gasped at the gruesome crime scene.I’ll never forget how badly mangled Zane’s face looked in those ghastly photos.Andy just looked at me, as he always did. Like I was the only person in the world and everything he did was for me.“I'll do anything for you.”His words still echo in my mind as if I heard them yesterday.
Even after my constant protests, Andrew refused to plead insanity. He explained he knew exactly what he was doing when he followed us to the coffee shop and then again from my house to Zane's. When he was asked by his court-appointed attorney why he committed murder, his answer was simple: it was the kiss that triggered his anger.That damn kiss.It's what caused my whole world to turn upside down.
They've put him in a single cell due to his “good behavior” during his stay. I can only imagine what it looks like. Probably drawings and doodles taped on the walls, as well as poems and lyrics he's written over the past two decades.
“You're in here today.” The guard stops before opening our private room. “Someone will bring him in soon.” He smiles politely before shutting the door.
“Thank you.” I don't know if he heard me before shutting the slate metal door behind us, but he nods when he passes the small window near the top.
I've done this before, so many times, but the butterflies never go away. Adrenaline buzzes under my skin like a thousand espresso shots shooting through my veins. The tiny hairs on my arms stand on end when I hear his loud footsteps come closer, and a glow that won't go away until our hour is up and we have to say our goodbyes.
The metallic sound from the chains on his handcuffs grows louder, and I know he's right outside the door. My heart beats faster in my chest as I listen for the knob to slowly turn.
“You have one hour,” another guard signals to the empty seat next to mine as he widens the open space enough for Andy's giant frame.
“Thank you.” His voice will always make my stomach so somersaults.
Andy walks in, and the door slams behind him. He's gotten stronger since my last visit. His biceps seem to cling to his orange jumpsuit. I follow his body with my eyes as he carefully sits next to me in the brown folding chair.
He moves his now long-grown-out hair away from his sapphire eyes, displaying the new permanent ink that paints his neck. He grabs my hands and rubs the pad of his tattooed fingers over the top of my hand.
“Hey, Andy.” I beam, holding tighter to his hand.
“What's up, Candi?”
October, 2005
“Do you think we'll always be best friends?” Brittany's question is now a faded memory from the summer before freshman year. If I could, I would've prepared myself for the inevitable truth: no, Britt, unfortunately, these days, we don't even talk.
Once we hit fifteen, you'll try out for cheerleading for the “Mighty Panthers” and eventually make Captain. I, on the other hand, will find a new group of friends. A couple of guys who do nothing but spend their free time at the skatepark and listening to new music on our homemade mixed CDs.
You remember theskatepark,don't you? It's where we used to spend most of our summer vacation, wiping out while trying to go down the half pipe.Teaching you how to ride on a skateboard is one of my favorite memories.
Do you think of me still? Am I on your mind like you are on mine when you're practicing your cheer routines, or when you're laughing with your boyfriend and your new best friendLaurenat my expense? Does your heart break a little when you see me walking in the halls without you?Mine breaks a little more every time I pass you at your locker. Why don't you look at me anymore?
How easy is it for you to sit diagonally from me in history class and not say a single word? If you want me to be completely honest, Britt, it fucking sucks. Every morning since the first day of senior year, you've sent small glances towards my desk and quick smiles as you slide into your seat, but it all changes when your new group follows in after you.Do they know we were once inseparable?
It's coming up on Halloween. Surely, you remember how we used to celebrate. The infamous horror movie marathons, carving jack-o'-lanterns, and laughing at how bad our designs turned out. Do you ever recognize the candy we used to stuff our faces with on the grocery store shelves? What seemed like millions of pieces we collected while trick-or-treating barely made a dent in our oversized pillow cases. Does it hurt too much around this time of year to know that you threw me away for the popular kids?
Don't worry, you'll see me soon. Only you won't know it's me, stalking in the shadows. You and your friends will have no idea that I'm the clown who is hiding around every dark corner, watching you jump from cheaply made animatronics and bad makeup jobs. I'll make myself known to you; at the end of thenight, when you think you're safe, I'll be there waiting in the end to hear how beautifully you scream.
