He knows. The police officer knows. |
It’s in the trunk. The body is in the trunk. There was no need to be worried. I’m a good driver, I won’t get pulled over nor will I wreck. I should just stop worrying. WEE-WOO, WEE-WOO! I heard sirens and saw the red and blue lights in my rearview mirror. My heart instantly sunk to my stomach. I looked down at the speedometer and realized I was going 10 miles below the speed limit. I was going 10 miles slower? I felt like I was speeding along with all the thoughts in my head. I pulled over to the side of the highway; sweat dripping off of my head. I hope it’s a fast procedure, I hope he just writes me the ticket and leaves. Can you even get a ticket for going slow? Oh god, here he comes. “Good evening, do you realize why I pulled you over?” the officer asked. “Was I driving too slow, sir?” “Yes, 10 miles too slow. That’s unusual on a busy high way. Why are you sweating so much, boy? It’s 34 degrees out.” I hesitated, “Um, um… I got the heat full blasting in here!” “Can you step out of the car for me?” “Yes, is there a problem officer?” He knows. He knows I killed him. How could I be so stupid? It was an honest mistake. “Not yet,” he assured me. Don’t you get less time if you confess? “I did it! I killed him!” “Killed who, boy?” I was mumbling a bunch of words but nothing made sense. “I didn’t understand a word you just said,” the officer said. I walked him to the back of the car and opened the trunk. I stood there watching him as he stared at the dead cockroach in the trunk bed. |