Murder Charges Over a Missing Order

Someone steals my takeout at the school gate. It is from a BBQ restaurant. Not only does the thief eat it all, but he also humiliates me in front of my classmates. He mocks, "Look, everyone! This is what a pauper would eat. Even my dog eats better than this!" He pulls out a stack of cash and slaps one bill against my face. Then, he tosses the rest into the air. "Happy birthday, beggar!" Three days later, he is burned to death in the alley behind the school, his limbs stretched out and tied to a tree. He is literally "grilled." And I become the murderer. Chapter 1 I bolted for the school's front gate. It was my birthday, and since I couldn't afford a cake, I secretly ordered myself some barbecue skewers instead. Spicy lamb skewers with ice-cold Coke—just thinking about it made my mouth water. The delivery should've arrived a while ago, and my stomach was already growling. But when I reached the little convenience stand by the gate, the owner told me my order had been picked up an hour earlier. I practically jumped out of my skin. That meal was my entire month's allowance! Seeing how panicked I was, the owner offered to pull up the security footage. He scrubbed to 7:23 pm, and a familiar figure appeared on the screen. With the school uniform, the height, and the way of walking, I instantly recognized him. "Isn't that Louis Jones?" The owner frowned. "This kid's always in here buying stuff. Why'd he take your order?" My heart sank. Louis was the top dog in our class and came from money. He never hid how much he looked down on us poor kids. Why would he take my food? I walked back to the classroom with my stomach in knots. Louis was scrolling on his phone when I got there. I went over and said in a small voice, "Uh, Louis, that takeout from the shop by the gate—that was my order." I pulled out my phone and showed him the screenshot from the security footage. He glanced at it and said casually, "Oh, that was yours? It was just sitting there, so I figured someone ordered it as a treat for everyone or something." I felt a tiny bit of relief when I heard him admit it. "Can you give it back to me, then?" "It's gone. I already finished it," Louis said, eyes dropping back to his phone. "It was pretty good. How much was it? I'll pay you." He sounded so matter-of-fact, like that was the obvious and only way to settle this matter. His nonchalance lit a fire in me. "Do you have any idea what the food meant to me, Louis? Today's my birthday, and that was the only way I was celebrating. It's late, and the gates are about to be locked. Where am I supposed to get another order now?" I exploded. Louis finally put his phone down, but his face was full of impatience. "Enough with the melodrama. If you were so desperate to eat, you should've picked it up earlier. It was just sitting there, so how was I supposed to know it was yours?" That only pissed me off more. "My name and phone number were on the bag! Who just grabs someone else's food like that?" "I already ate it, and I said I'd pay you back. What more do you want?" He shrugged, looking completely shameless. "And honestly, that barbecue wasn't even that great. Looked like it was from some random hole-in-the-wall. I felt a little sick after eating it." Our classmates started to gather around, drawn by the argument. Micah Lowell spoke up first. "Louis, that's not cool. It was clearly his food." Rita Walden nodded. "Yeah. At the very least, you should apologize." "Exactly. You'd be pissed if it happened to you." With everyone chiming in, Louis' expression grew darker and darker. He suddenly slammed his palm on his desk, and the whole room fell silent. "Enough of this! Why are all of you making a big deal out of nothing?" He stood up and looked at me imperiously, his voice dripping with contempt. "It's just takeout. Do you really have to freak out like this? And you're getting worked up over 20 bucks. How poor are you?" The classroom was dead quiet. He went on, "Honestly, you might as well drop out now and go beg on the streets. You'd probably make more money that way." His words hit me like a bolt of lightning. Everyone's eyes were on me. Some people snickered under their breath, and some looked awkward. Most of them just stared down at their desks. I could feel the blood rushing to my head and my ears buzzing. "Poor", "beg"—each word stabbed into me like poisoned needles. My hands started to shake. I couldn't even tell if it was from rage or humiliation. This wasn't something I could just swallow. I made that promise to myself in silence. Chapter 2 Before I could even figure out how to get back at Louis, something big happened at school. Three days later, early in the morning, the whole campus was buzzing. The moment I walked into the classroom, I heard everyone heatedly discussing something. "Did you hear? Louis is dead!" "What? How did he die?" "He was burned to death in that alley behind the school!" My backpack almost slipped from my hand. Louis… was dead? Micah excitedly told everyone, "My cousin's a firefighter, and they went out on a call last night. He said the scene was terrifying—the body was completely charred." "Where did they find him?" someone asked. "Under that big old locust tree behind the school. You know, that spot nobody ever goes to." Rita lowered her voice. "I heard he was tied to the tree and burned alive. His arms and legs were strapped down with rope. There was no way he could run." The classroom went dead silent. Everyone stared at one another. A wave of dizziness hit me, and a loud buzzing filled my head. Louis was tied to a tree and burned to death? That was beyond brutal. "What are the cops saying?" a classmate asked. "They're calling it murder. The investigation's still ongoing. I heard they didn't find any real clues at the scene. The killer was very careful," Micah said. "The creepiest part is that there were a few empty takeout boxes next to him, all greasy with oil. It was like… like someone put them there on purpose." My heart started pounding wildly. Takeout boxes? How could that be a coincidence? Three days ago, Louis had stolen my food and humiliated me in front of everyone, telling me to beg for scraps. Three days later, he was burned to death, and takeout boxes were laid out beside him. It was like he'd literally been "grilled". I tried to stay calm, but a storm of emotions rose in me. This was the guy who had humiliated me and stomped all over my dignity with the nastiest words he could find. And now, he was dead. The way he died felt almost symbolic, too. "Do you think it was revenge?" a classmate whispered. "Probably. Why else torture him like that? Louis was always such a jerk. He must've pissed off a lot of people." I lowered my head and pretended to organize my books as I listened to them talk, but my hands were shaking. I didn't know if it was from fear or from a dark, vengeful thrill deep inside me. … During the second period that afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Mr. Vale, walked in with two police officers. "Class, this is Captain Colson from the city's major crimes unit. He needs to ask you some questions about Louis." His voice trembled a little. Clearly, he was rattled by the case, too. Captain Colson looked to be in his 40s. He was dressed in plain clothes, but his sharp eyes gave him away as a seasoned detective. "Everyone, relax," he said. "This is just a routine check." His gaze swept over the room. "Can anyone tell me what Louis' relationships were like with other students?" The classroom went completely quiet. No one dared to speak. His eyes landed on me. "What's your name?" My heart shot into my throat. "M-My name is Jeremiah Reeves." "I heard you had an argument with Louis a few days ago." Oh, no. They already knew! I forced myself to stay calm. "We did. He took my food delivery, and we argued over that." "Tell me exactly what happened." I described that day in detail, including the surveillance footage and how he'd humiliated me in front of everyone. As Captain Colson listened, he took notes. The younger officer beside him also jotted things down. Captain Colson asked, "After that argument, did you have any other contact with him?" "No. We didn't talk after that." "Where have you been in the last three days, then? Can you walk me through it?" My palms were slick with sweat, but I tried my best to recall everything clearly. "The night before last, I was at the dorm, studying late. My dormmate can vouch for me. Yesterday morning, we had a math exam, and in the afternoon, I was at the library until around 9:00 pm. After I got back to the dorm last night, I didn't go out again." "Can anyone confirm that?" "The library has cameras, and the administrator, Mr. Wendell, knows me because I go there a lot. My classmates and dormmate can also confirm my whereabouts." Captain Colson nodded. "We'll verify all of that." He closed his notebook and looked at the class. "This is an extremely serious case. If any of you know anything at all, you can contact us anytime." Only after the police left did a bit of life return to the room, but my mood grew even heavier. Would they find anything? Chapter 3 The police still hadn't made any real progress on Louis' murder when, a few days later, something else happened at school. This time, the one who died was Fred Roth from my class. The news spread before the first period even started. The whole grade was buzzing. "Fred Roth is dead, too! It happened last night!" "How did it happen?" "His mouth was torn open from the corner of his lips all the way to his ears, like he was laughing like mad." My hand, holding a pen, started to shake. Fred was the one who'd been snickering in the crowd that day when Louis humiliated me. He'd been sitting in the back row, thinking I couldn't see him, but I clearly remembered the gloating look on his face. "Where was he found?" Micah asked in a low voice. "The same back alley behind the school, near where they found Louis' body." "What are the cops saying?" "They're saying it was the same killer because of the similar methods. There weren't any real clues left at the scene, too." Rita's face had gone pale. "This is seriously messed up. Two of our classmates have died, one after another. She turned to look at me. "Jeremiah, are you okay? You look awful." I forced a smile. "I'm fine. Just a little scared." But inside, my feelings were a tangled mess. Sure, I was scared, but under the fear, there was this strange rush of pleasure. Fred was dead. The guy who'd laughed at me… was dead. And the way he died—his mouth torn into a grotesque smile—was just like the smirk he wore when he was watching my humiliation. There was no way that was a coincidence. Absolutely no way. "Do you think the killer's gonna keep going?" someone whispered. "Probably. It's starting to look like a serial killer." "Doesn't that mean we're all in danger?" "I don't know, but we should all be extra careful for the next few days. Don't walk around alone at night." I lowered my head and pretended to read as I listened to them. My mind kept replaying what happened that day, though. Besides Louis and Fred, would there be a next one? Who would it be? The thought filled me with both terror and excitement. I couldn't help being scared of myself because of these warring emotions. … The next morning, the school held an emergency assembly for all students and staff. The principal, Mr. Bronson, stood on stage, looking grim. "In light of the recent violent incidents, the school has decided to implement the following safety measures." The auditorium fell completely silent. Everyone listened closely. "First, students are forbidden from going out alone after 7:00 pm. Second, the back alley behind the school will be temporarily closed off. Third, someone will be assigned to each class to keep track of students' whereabouts." He paused, then went on, "The police have confirmed that this is a serial murder case targeting our school. You must all stay on high alert." … After the assembly, Captain Colson came to our class again. This time, his expression was even more serious. "From our preliminary investigation, we've noticed a pattern." He swept a gaze across the room. "Both victims were involved in the food delivery incident from a few days ago." My heart almost stopped. "Louis was directly involved, and Fred was there watching. We have reason to believe the killer may be taking revenge on someone's behalf." Captain Colson's eyes settled on me again. "Jeremiah, think carefully about this. Who else was there that day? Did anyone react in a particularly strong way?" I tried to dig through my memories and said shakily, "There were a lot of people watching. I can't really remember anything specific." "That's okay. Take your time. Contact us anytime if you remember anything." He left his name card and walked out, but the look in his eyes made me very uneasy. Chapter 4 At lunch, Micah leaned over to me and whispered, "Jeremiah, don't you feel like the cops are paying extra attention to you?" I tried to sound calm. "It's probably because I'm the victim in all this." "But think about it. The two people who died are the ones who fought with you that day." Rita joined in. "Doesn't that feel a little too coincidental?" "Coincidental? Come on, it's obvious someone's out there getting revenge for Jeremiah," Micah muttered, keeping his voice low. "Could it be some relative or friend of yours?" I shook my head. "No way. My family's super straight-laced. They would never do something like this. And I don't have any friends that vicious." Even so, a deep sense of fear crept over me. If the killer kept going, would I eventually become a suspect? The thought killed my appetite. … Three more days passed, and the horror made another appearance. This time, the one who died was John Moore from the class next door. I was in math class when the news broke. My pen slipped right out of my hand. John Moore? I remembered him vividly. He was the one who'd talked trash at the top of his lungs in the hallway. Right after Louis had humiliated me, I'd stumbled out of the classroom with my head down. I'd bumped into John and a couple of his buddies chatting in the hallway. "He brought it on himself, making such a big deal over one stupid food delivery." "Right? And now, everyone knows how broke his family is." "Some people just love attention. He totally deserved to get dragged like that." Every word was like a knife cutting into my heart, making an already humiliating moment even worse. And now, John was dead. … After class, the rumors exploded all over school. "They found John dead at home. His tongue was cut out." "What? His tongue?" "Yeah. The killer sliced it off. There was blood everywhere." My head spun. John's tongue was cut out? The guy who'd wagged tongues and mocked me had his tongue cut out? The symbolism was impossible to ignore. "This is already the third incident," Micah said, his face pale. "What the hell is the killer trying to do?" "I think it's pretty obvious," Rita said quietly. "Every single one of them was involved in that food delivery incident." She glanced at me. "Jeremiah, are you sure you don't know what's going on?" I shook my head, but inside, that twisted rush of satisfaction surged again. John was dead. The guy who said I deserved what I got was dead, and he died in a way that matched his sin perfectly. "Do you think we're in danger, too?" someone asked. "We should be fine, right? It's not like we ever messed with Jeremiah." "Yeah, but who knows what the killer's standards are? What if it's enough that we were there that day?" Panic started spreading through the class, and the way people looked at me changed. Their gazes were complicated now. There was pity, fear, and something else I couldn't quite name. I tried to act calm, but inside, I was both thrilled and terrified. The thrill came from knowing that someone who hurt me had gotten what he deserved. The terror came from the realization that this pattern of targeted killings would eventually make the cops zero in on me. But what scared me most was the fact that I'd started looking forward to the next death. That thought alone made my skin crawl. … Since John's death, I noticed the way my classmates looked at me had completely changed. Sympathy turned to fear, and concern turned into suspicion. During periods, I overheard a few classmates whispering among themselves as I walked to the bathroom. "Don't you think it's weird? All the people who died are…" As their voices drifted over, a bunch of details I'd been ignoring suddenly crashed into my mind all at once. I froze and stopped dead in the hallway, stunned.