They had never suspected a woman. That’s why they never came looking for me. Sometimes I felt safe because I was not being interrogated, but most of the time I felt guilty and scared. Other times I wished they had found me, so that I could let go of this deep dark secret and put my skeletons to rest. I still considered turning myself in, but decided against it. Besides, it was too late now and the damage was already done. It always seemed that I was running from the cops. It wasn’t until much later that I realized I should be running to them instead. I should have told them about Orwell, but I didn’t. Besides, he probably would have killed me before I had gotten around to it. He was a bad, bad man, and the fact that he was now a free man, often times made my heart skip a beat. I had helped him get his money back, or his stupid little treasure, a gold button and an oyster shell. He said the button was worth a million. I couldn’t believe a woman was dead over a little gold button. There was no reason to kill her; she had not put a fight. She said to take whatever we wanted and leave. That was not enough for Orwell, he just had to rape and kill her, and he couldn’t let her go. Each day I lived in fear of what I knew and what I had seen. It was like a bad dream, only the kind that never ends. -Daniella Novella- Conned
Posted on: Tue, 29 Oct 2013 16:35:10 +0000
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