Short Stories May 2013 | Page 12

It Wasn't Me

Jim, from Las Vegas, walks home from the bar at midnight. As he is walking, he sees his shadow in the moonlight, and then he sees another.

“They might just be heading the same way,” said Jim. He pretends he doesn’t notice and just keeps going. He gets home and goes inside, and then he looks out the window and sees the stranger outside looking at him.

“Wonder what they want?” whispered Jim.

As he looks out the window the stranger turns around and leaves. He wants to call someone, but he follows the person instead.

“Who are you?” yelled Jim, “and what do you want?”

The stranger turns around and then vanishes, and Jim sees the face. Then he sees red and blue lights and he’s at the bar and there is a dead body.

“Freeze don’t move,” yelled a man, “raise your hands!”

“It was him, he did it!” yelled another man.

Jim stops and doesn’t move. The dead man wasn’t dead, he was alive and it was the stranger. Next thing you know Jim is being cuffed and being taken to jail.

“I didn’t do it,” said Jim.

“That’s what everyone says,” said an officer.

Jim was in jail for something he didn’t know he did.

“How long will I stay?” asked Jim.

“Three years at least,” answered the officer, “you stabbed him eight times with glass.”

As he was taking Jim to his cell Jim was trying to figure out what happened.

“Jim, you might want to be careful next time,” said the officer.

“Next time I won’t be here,” exclaimed Jim.

After all that, Jim heard the jail cell door close and lock. Everything went black and he fell asleep.

It was three years since Jim last saw the outside world. He was in jail doing the same thing every day.

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