When I was 13, I had a best friend
named Marin. She and I did everything together, from skipping class
to trick or treating on Halloween. We had the same love for chaos and
adventure, along with the old disregard for rules and authority that
comes with being a teenager.
One late November day, she texted me in
math class, “I know what we're doing tonight.”
“Homework?” I replied jokingly as
my teacher worked through some problem with lots of exes.
“You know how they're building those
apartments by my place? Let's explore them before they put in doors
and windows.”
That was how it started. Looking back,
it was almost beautifully simple, beautifully in character. It was so
normal for us that we had no idea that everything was about to change
(except for climate change, that was unaffected).
We got to the half-built apartments
around 7:30 that night. Our curfew was officially at 9, but we were
usually good to stay out until 9:30, so we had plenty of time. Marin
had noticed that they had put up signs for cameras all over the
place, so she grabbed a couple old black hoodies that had been used
for our Halloween costumes one year when we were younger.
“These fit terribly,” I told her as
I squeezed into mine. I looked over at her and saw her basically
swimming in hers. “Maybe we should switch.”
“Just shut up and put the hood up,”
she growled in response.
With our disguises on, we entered the
middle apartment building through its missing front door. We pulled
out our phones and turned on their flashlights to see. The walls were
bare dry wall, not even painted, and the front entrance way was just
a little room for people to get their mail in. In front of us, wooden
stairs lead both up and down to the four floors above, or the
underground garage.
Marin took me by the hand and lead me
up the stairs to the first floor. On either side of the wall leading
to the back staircase, two open doorways stood as if inviting us in
to explore them. Excited, Marin dragged me into the first door on the
left and we quickly found out that some of the construction hadn't
been finished yet, as there was a hole in the floor of what would
eventually become a living room that stretched from the top floor all
the way down. In the middle of the hole was a rope thrown over a beam
above.
“What do you think this is for?” I
asked her, curious as she peered over the edge and I looked up at the
top.
“Maybe they use it to get into lower
floors almost like a firefighter,” she suggested just as a
dangerous idea popped into her mind.
Sometimes I wonder what life would have
been like if that thought had never occurred to her. I wonder if we
would have gone up those three flights of stairs and peered down into
the darkness. But we did, and as we stood there looking down
together, I felt uneasy about it.
“There's a little pulley system thing
here,” she observed, flashing her light on a beam above the hole
where the rope is thrown over. “I bet we can slide down if we want.
Or swing over!”
She handed me her phone before I could
say anything. She backed up, then ran right at the hole.
“Marin!” I cried out in doubtful
fear, but she flew through the air, grabbed the rope, and swung over
to the other side with ease.
“Come on over, the rope's fine!”
she encouraged me. I took a deep breath, put both of our phones in my
pocket, and ran at the rope. I jumped and felt the ground disappear
beneath my feet.
When I landed on the other side, I
nearly let out a cry of excitement before remembering that we were in
a construction site that we were not allowed to be in. “That was
awesome,” I whispered instead.
“I know!” Marin whispered back.
“Now I'm thinking of climbing down. That'd be so cool!”
She moved back to the edge as I took
our phones back out of my pocket. I handed hers to her as she stood
over the dark precipice. Standing there watching her lean over and
contemplate her plan of action put this idea in my head, one that
imagined her falling down into the darkness, never to be seen again.
I still can't quite explain the feeling I got from that image. The
feeling that filled me up. The feeling that almost made me into a
completely different person.
I walked up behind her quietly, unable
to speak. Then I pushed her. Her initial scream was the same as the
time she fell off of her bed reading one night, but her flurry to
catch herself was far more intense. She grabbed onto the rope, but it
slid out from the beam, causing her to fall with it to the ground
below. As she fell, I could hear her head hitting floor after floor,
beating it in until she was left on the brink of life and
consciousness, waiting for the end that no one could save her from.
And I... I felt nothing. I told the
police that she fell on her own, and they believed me because what
kind of person kills their best friend? It's been a long time since
that day, and this is the first time anyone's heard the truth of what
happened. Not like it matters, her parents died a long time ago. The
truth doesn't serve anyone.
-Zero
