The clock on the wall said 7:30pm. It was a dark, rainy Thursday night in November. Where is he? Even if he took the long way home he should be home by now. Thought his father, If he doesn’t get home in the next half hour, he is not getting dinner tonight. As he sat there watching the t.v., the time slowly slipping by, he drifted off into a light sleep…

The loud ringing of the phone woke him up from his sleep. “Hello?” he asked the caller as he looked at the clock.

“Hey dad, sorry I didn’t call sooner, I had to work a double shift after school tonight, and I guess I forgot to tell you about it.”

“It’s okay Jake, as long as you come right home.” Said his father as he realized what time it was.

“Okay dad, it might take a half hour though, I didn’t drive to school because my truck wouldn’t start.” said Jake as though he was out of breath.

“It doesn’t matter we’ll work on it tomorrow after school” replied his dad as he got up from his seat on the couch.

“Okay, I will see you in about a half hour then dad.”

“See you then Jake.” The time was 8:15pm
- - - - - -
His dad was worried, of course he was. He talked to his son over an hour ago, and he still wasn’t home yet. He just lost his wife in September, and now he was thinking he lost his son. No, he just got lost, he went to a friend’s house, his phone died… yeah, that’s what happened he went to a friend’s house and his phone died. That’s what he told himself anyway. No, that doesn’t make any sense, all of his friends have phones, he would-of called. A loud bang from the door shook the father out of his trance.

“John?” called the rough voice o the other side of the door. “You home?”

“Yeah Chris, Give me a sec to get to the door.” called John, as he walked to the door in a quick manner. He opened the door and looked at his friend since 8th grade.

“What can I do for you Chris?” he asked, hoping if the officer knew something about his son.

“Can I come in? This really isn’t the kind-of news a guy wants to get standing up.”

“What do you mean Chris?” John slowly started to get worried.

“We’ve been friends for a long time John, and I don’t want to tell you this, but I have too. It will be easier on both of us if you’re comfortable in your own house.” Chris replied as John let him in the house.

“Now, what do you have to tell me Chris?” John said as he sat down in his chair.

“We found your sons’ body on the side of 8 mile, about a ten minute walk from here.” Chris said slowly, as if he was afraid of how his friend would react.

“You found him? Good, well tell him that when he comes home-, Wait, did you just say his body? What do you mean his body?” As he said that, John slowly started to realize why his son wasn’t home yet.

“Your son is dead John. Looks like some tired to rob him, and it ended badly.”

“No, that can’t be I won’t believe it. That’s not what happened…… You LIAR!!!!” John yelled the last part as he jumped up from his chair, and pointed a finger at his childhood friend.

“John, I’m sorry this happened, I know that you just lost your wife 2 months ago, but I didn’t think that you wanted to hear this from someone else.” Chris stood up to comfort his friend as John starting cry when the loss of his son sank in.

“My son… My Son! Why of all people did it have to be him! Why did it have to be him and me…?” John sat on the sofa crying about the death of his only son. It was the shook of losing everything he ever knew and love that broke him. He didn’t cry at the news at the death of his wife, or at her funeral because he knew he had to stay strong for his son. He remembered the last time that saw his wife and son together. That was the happiest time of time of his life, but that was all taken away from him in lees the 3 months.

‘It’s okay John, it’s all going to be alright. We’ll catch the guy who did this to him.” Chris was worried when he finished his sentence though. He found Jake with his throat slit, and his money gone. He had defensives wounds on his body, but they were from the knife, and the knife that they found was clear of any figure prints.

After some time, John stopped crying, although you could hear the sadness in his voice.

“Chris, I know you’re on call and everything, but would you like a drink?” Asked John, the grim news still engraved on his face.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea John…”

“Nonsense, Chris you have been my friend for 27 years now, and I know how hard it must be for you to work on a case like this. Please, I insist.” As He said this he stood up as if he already knew Chris’s answer.

“Well, it is pretty late out,” at this moment, John knew he had him. “I guess I can have 1 or 2 beers if you don’t mind.” Chris then leaded back, as if the weight of the world was taken off of his shoulders.

“I only got Bud Light; I hope that’s okay…” John asked as he walked towards the kitchen.

“Yea, that’s fine, I don’t really have a favorite.” Chris started to take his jacket off, because he knew it would be a while before he went back to work now.

As John started to walk towards the kitchen, he heard Chris change the channel on the tv to NCIS or Law and Order. John didn’t care much anymore, what could he care about now that he lost everything?

“Hey did you watch the game last night?” Chris called as he leaned back in his chair.

“No, I had to take……” John suddenly started to cry again, as he remembered his son’s hockey game last night. That was the last time he saw Jake alive.

“John, I’m sorry I brought that up,” with that, Chris got up to comfort his friend. “I forgot that Jake had that game last night.”

John slowly started to stop crying, but the damage was already done.

“Here John, drink something, it will help ease the pain.” Chris handed him a beer, then sat down across from his friend. “I can leave if would like John, I understand how you feel at this point. It wouldn’t bother me; in fact it looks like you need some time alone.”
“No, its fine, just give me a little bit.” John choked out between sobs.
“Are you sure? This can’t be easy on you…?” Chris got up and grabbed his jacket to leave.

“You don’t have to go yet Chris, I’m alright, this just isn’t the news you get used to so fast, that’s all.” John grabbed Chris’s arm to help himself up. “Now then, how ‘bout that beer I promised you?”
“Alright, but I’m only staying because I don’t want to see you hurt yourself.” Chris sat his jacket down, and then sat down in one of the barstools.

John got up, unsteady on his feet, and walked towards the fridge. He pulled out to beers, and opened Chris’s, then his own. He walked towards the living room to sit down.

“Where you going John?” Chris looked around to see where his friend was going.

“I just need to sit down in here, too many good memories in the kitchen.”
- - - - - -

He could hear it talking to him. Or was it the beer? Either way the more he heard it, the more and more satisfying. Kill him, kill him for bring the news, the horrible, horrible news.

No I can’t he’s my friend. John looked around the room, then down at the bottle in his hand.

Would a friend really want to tell you that your son has died?

He said that I wouldn’t—
Your right, HE said, not you.
The gears in John’s broken mind started working again. Would a friend really want to tell you the news that your son just died? But he knew Chris; then again, Chris wasn’t there at his wife’s funeral.
Is he really your friend John? Is he? Look at him, sitting on your sofa, and insulting your wife and son. Would a true friend do that?
John was faced with a new question, Is he really insulting them? He couldn’t be, but the more he listened, the more he heard what he didn’t want to believe. At that just then he knew what he had to do.
“Chris, I’m going to get another beer, you want one?”
“Huh? Oh yea, I’ve only had, what, 5?” Chris tried to say, but his words were already slurring badly.
After getting the beers, John walked up behind Chris, raised one of the bottles up over his head, and made it collide with Chris’s head with a definite CRACK!! The bottle broke in his hand, spilling beer and blood on the floor, a mix of his own and Chris’s.
Planning his next move, John started to clean up the glass on the floor, throwing it away. He went to wash his hands off in the sink, watching how the blood flowed down the drain.

I’m going to jail… and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Yes there is. What do you have left to live for John?

He forgot about the bottle. The one who told him to kill his friend, he listened to it once, what more did he have to lose?
What is left for you John? Life in jail? No, there’s a way out of that you know.
Then he knew what he had to do from there. He walked into the garage, pulled out a long rope, tied it into a knot, no, not A knot, THE knot. The one that would end all of his pain. Walking back into the house, he wrote a quick note to Chris’s family, grabbed his keys, and walked out of the house with the rope in his hand.