Accidentally a Criminal

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

2:45 am, Border of Vermont, 10/3/23

I can't sleep. Underneath my little tent, I'm lying awake, tired and restless. The rain won't stop and it's pounding against my miniature palace with incredible strength. I've stopped trying to sleep at this point. Suddenly, an ear-splitting sound erupted from outside of my sanctuary.

Thunder. Thanks Nature, I wasn't planning on sleeping anyway. The thunder was louder than fireworks and extremely annoying. I remembered reading The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain at one point in school. Tom went through a camping experience just like this one. Thunder and lightning. In the book a tree gets struck by lightning and falls down on his camp. Sad, really. His family missed him when he went missing. My family has already disowned me, probably.

The rain seemed to be getting stronger, if that's even possible. It pounded on my tent so hard it felt as though it would fall through. Thunder stirred up the sky and I caught a glimpse of lightning. When will this end?!

As if Mother Nature had misinterpreted my previous thought, a tree at that very second was struck by lightning. It came tumbling down and hit the ground with a roaring and monstrous *Boom!* right next to my tent. I had the biggest jumpscare of my life.

The same incident happened to both me and the fictional character by the name of Tom Sawyer. Spooky. Through my semi-transparent tent, I could see fire smothering the top of the defeated tree. That could start a wildfire..., I thought smartly. I obeyed my feeble brain's commands and unzipped my tent to put out the fire.

Though I tried my best to help put out the fire, rain already did my job for me. So much for team effort. I looked down at the tree. The fallen soldier now had a battle wound from its fight with the sky. I sadly went back to my tent and decided it would be best to get to bed now.

I actually had a dream that night. I was in my bed, at home, and I heard a yell from downstairs. Down on the main floor was Russell's dead body, laying there in a pool of blood. Surrounding the gruesome scene was a group of cops, arguing with each other. However, when they saw me, they silenced themselves and stared. One walked up to me and asked in a monotonous voice (which surprised me because they were investigating a murder):

"Did you do this?"

" Yes."

A second cop stepped forward, this time with a more cheerful voice, she stated,

"He did it out of self-defense, he's not guilty."

I like her, what a nice lady. The other cops didn't seem to think so. They soon began to throw papers, cups, and other assortments of items at her.

"He's a liar," they murmured, along with other overlapping phrases:

"Murderer."

"Traitor."

"Cold-hearted."

"No soul."

"Coward."

The optimistic cop ran out the door, crying. I paid no attention. Then I looked down at myself. The insults and lies from the other cops began to write themselves on my arms. Liar, coward, cold-blooded, murderer, all of them. All of them tattooed my arms in red ink like the plague.

6:21 am, 10/3/23

I gasped for air, awakening from my nightmare. It seems as though my consciousness is having a fight with itself, trying to figure out whether or not I'm guilty or innocent. I don't even know anymore. Today is Friday, the day of the dance. The good news is I don't have to dance with Madlynn Zimmermann because I'm a homeless murderer now. The bad news is that I'm a homeless murderer.

I gathered up my stuff from my tent and then began to unzip it. Presently a snake stared straight at me. A gray snake with tan vertical stripes zipping along its scales was looking at me. Instinctively, I panicked. It began to slither its way into my tent and I began to hit it with my umbrella, screaming like a little girl. The snake was hissed and lunged at my calf. A wave of profanity swept over me. Searing pain began to infect that general area as if my leg were on fire. I hit the snake over and over with my weapon of choice until it let go. It did, but still wanted to stay in my tent. I stumbled my way out of there and then zipped up the tent, leaving my attacker inside.

"Ha!" I pointed at it. The snake wouldn't care anyways, no matter how much I cursed and boasted at it. Then, It hit me. #%$@! That snake just bit me! Furthermore, I also got kicked out of my tent by that slimy horrendous thing! I scrambled for my phone.

After little research on snakes in Eastern Vermont, I learned that Garter snakes aren't venomous. I was finally able to breathe. But the snake was still inside my tent. I frowned and decided to just leave it there... I'll sleep in a shed or barn tonight. Without snakes, hopefully.

11:28 pm, 10/3/23

I can't find a single shed or barn, and it's pouring, again. The eerie silence of the night made it worse. No sounds but the pitter-patter of raindrops pelting my umbrella ran through the cold air. I was exhausted, cold, wet, and annoyed with the entire world.

Then, in the distance, I looked up to see the most ragged-looking treehouse in the world. The thing looked eighty years old. It was perfect for a homeless criminal like myself. Up close, it looked twenty-times the age I estimated it to be. Rotting wood creaked with every gust of wind that flew by. I climbed up the safety hazard of a ladder and settled in nicely. Once I set up my sleeping bag, I drifted straight to sleep.

I had one of falling dreams. I hate how they feel like you're actually falling. I was on a snowy cliff and this guy came out of nowhere and just pushed me off! Meanie. The falling seemed to be dragging on forever. The sick feeling in my stomach began to form within the first five seconds of the departure. Then, I split through the clouds and saw the ground. I braced for impact. But impact never came. Instead, an abrupt, deafening noise issued from outside my dream.

7:12 am, 10/4/23

I sprang up from my sleeping bag. Blinding light from the window of my shelter told me it was morning. Dreams go by incredibly fast. I looked outside to find the origin of the sound disturbing my sleep. Then, I heard it again. It was a dog barking.

I took a small peek outside my window. In the distance, there was a one-story house and right next to it, a girl with red hair standing next to a gigantic Great Dane. I heard incoherent mumbling from the girl, and then she looked dead into my eyes. My face went white and I swung my head away from the window. I'm doomed. I thought this thing was abandoned! I was stupid enough to not notice the actual house next to it. Beyond my inner thoughts, I heard pacing footsteps, then a clink of metal. More footsteps, coming closer. The dead grass crinkled unpleasantly. My heart was about to explode and I broke into a cold sweat.

I couldn't breathe as I heard the old wooden ladder creaking under the girl's weight. Then, a noggin blooming with a mountain of red hair popped up into the doorway of the treehouse, soon, her full body.

She stood in front of me, casting a shadow across my entire body. Her arms were crossed and her face scrunched up in anger with her chin pointed up. Obviously she was trying to assert her dominance, although she didn't look as powerful as she seemed. She clad long, pink pajama pants and a yellow softball shirt, not very menacing. But right next to her was a fluorescent orange and pink softball bat, just itching to be swung right in my face.

"What are you doing here?!" she demanded. Sweat trickled down my face and my vocal chords weren't in the mood for giving her answers. My back clung to the corner of the wall.

"What are you doing here?!" She repeated louder, which made my entire body shake. The floor of the treehouse creaked heavily under the weight of the girl and me. Her softball bat reflected the sunlight, looking scary. I still didn't respond. "Are you mute or something?!-" the girl picked up her bat, "TALK!"

I couldn't talk, it seemed impossible. Out of frustration, the girl hit the wall of the treehouse with an echoing *Wham!*. My entire body shook. Then the whole treehouse. It creaked louder and louder. Then, the rotting floor gave in. Within seconds, I was free falling and my stomach had a knot in it, except this wasn't a dream. Without warning, I hit the ground with a sickening *Thud!* and then, I don't know what happened next.