Maddy looked down at the bloodied earth with trembling hands. She’d just killed her best friend in a fit of rage. How could she explain this to the police? She would never be able to get out of this one, and never be able to get into any college, no matter her grades.

It was hard to breathe, with each inhale burning her lungs. Thoughts raced through her head as she stood there, blood dripping from the murder weapon: a metal rod. What am I gonna do? What am I gonna say to her parents? I’m never going to get out of this one. 

Her phone buzzed with a message from her brother. Maddy smiled, and she dropped the weapon on the ground, glad that she still had rubber gloves on. Cleaning the kitchen was a great excuse to wear gloves, and wearing gloves was a great excuse to be let go from a murder.

Maddy’s brother, Josh, was a criminal since he’d been born. He’d gone in and out of different jails and prisons several times and had been mistaken for an adult more times than she could count. He’d also committed murders several times before. It wouldn’t be too hard to just . . . blame it on him . . . right?

She opened the message, seeing that her brother was coming back home for a few hours. Obviously, he was only coming back to do drugs, but it was a perfect opportunity for her to use.

Maddy replied and dropped the weapon before going back inside, disposing of the gloves before sitting on the couch. She opened a bag of chips, hoping that Josh wouldn’t notice the sudden appearance of red spots all over her hands.

He likely wouldn’t. She already knew that. He always took so many drugs at once that he’d pass out on the couch . . . and . . . 

That’s how she’d do it. She would wait for Josh to pass out before placing the bloody weapon beside him. She’d likely hit her friend a few more times to make it seem more like it was the work of a ruthless criminal and to get a tad more blood on the weapon.

An hour after Josh arrived, he was unconscious on the couch, and Maddy broke a few more of her friend’s bones before placing the weapon near the couch. She called the police, babbling incoherently to make it seem more real.

She was relieved to see the ambulance arrive, as she could dispose of the body easier. Her brother was taken in, still unconscious at the moment, and confessed in his drug-induced state. No wonder why Josh killed so much. It was riveting. She couldn’t wait to do it again . . . 

But what she didn’t know was that she’d never killed her friend. Her friend was still clinging to life, and would be more than happy to explain what happened that day . . .