Please, be okay.
Tears swarmed at the thought of him waking up alone. How would he survive me being taken?
He’ll come for me.
I knew that without a shred of doubt. The only horror was—what if they killed him?
I couldn’t think about that.
My eyes fell begrudgingly on the file.
Answers.
Truth.
All whispering sweet nothings in my ear to read. Read!
Leaning forward, I grabbed it. My hands wouldn’t stop quaking as I opened the folder. A gust of terror disappeared down my spine at the first document.
Completed Testimony for Scott Killian
Witnessed and Lodged by Officer Clark
Notes: this is a true statement gathered and witnessed of the events that occurred on the night in question involving the murder of Paul, Sandra, and Cleo Price along with the destruction of their household.
Transcribed and authenticated as part of trial material for triple homicide by Arthur Killian.
Please note, this testimony was used as Evidence A in the case of State versus Killian.
Witness Testimony:
Officer: Please describe the night in question.
Scott Killian: I’d just come home from dealing with business outside our normal trading hours. My oldest son, Dax, needed some help, which called me away. I look back now and think I should’ve done something. I should’ve known. Arthur had been acting strange for weeks. He’d always been ambitious, believing he was smarter than everyone else. Flashing his grades in my older son’s face as if to say he was better than us. He had aspirations. That’s why he spent so much time with the president’s daughter, Cleo.
Officer: Your son and the deceased were in a relationship?
Scott Killian: Yes, he made that poor girl fall in love with him when she was barely out of diapers. I watched from the sidelines, believing that Paul would put an end to the obvious issue that was going on. But he never did.
Officer: What issue?
Scott Killian: Control. Arthur was only sleeping with the daughter to gain complete control. He was using her.
Officer: What brings you to believe that?
Scott Killian: A couple of weeks ago he came to me with a plan. A plan to get rid of the president so he could take over. He believed having the president’s daughter, and being the son of the VP, would ensure he could take over seamlessly. Of course, I told him no. I beat that kid up for ever thinking such a thing. I know now I should’ve done more, but at the time I believed I’d disciplined him enough to put such a sinful idea out of his head.
Their death is on me, because I didn’t know my son’s true capabilities. I raised a monster. I raised a killer, and for that I will always be sorry.
Officer: Please, continue about the night of the murder.
Scott Killian: Sure. That night, like I said, I was out. But I returned just in time to see Arthur leaving our house and crossing the compound to theirs. He disappeared inside. I don’t know what made me follow him—perhaps I didn’t want him sleeping with Cleo anymore, or perhaps I still didn’t trust him after his admission of his plans. Regardless, I followed him.
Officer: And what happened when you followed?
Scott Killian: I followed him deeper into the house. I stayed hidden as he pulled out a silenced pistol and stood over the sleeping forms of my best friend and his wife. I watched as he raised his arm and first shot Paul in the forehead and then shot Sandra. He shot people who were almost family to him in cold blood.
Officer: Then what happened?
Scott Killian: He left, but then returned with gasoline, which he poured over their corpses. I exited the house, heading past Cleo’s bedroom to see if I could save her. She was lying facedown on the carpet. He probably killed her while I was out with Dax. Not wanting to touch evidence, I left quietly.
Officer: Then what happened?
Scott Killian: My son set fire to their house, probably to try and conceal what he’d done. The moment flames erupted, I called the police and the fire department.
Officer: And you’re willing to repeat what you just said in a court of law? Everything you’ve just told me is the truth and nothing but the truth?
Scott Killian. Oh yes. Nothing but the truth. My son is a murderer and deserves the worst sentencing imaginable. I can prove it was premeditated and will stand by my testimony to honor my friend’s memory. My son must pay for what he’s done.
Tears streamed down my face.
Lies.
Heinous, horrible lies.
Arthur never slept with me out of respect. He managed to control himself, knowing that we were too young, even when we wanted to be together more than anything.
Arthur never disrespected anyone. He was a good person.
An amazing person.
This traitorous statement sent Arthur to prison for triple homicide. It slandered him as a cutthroat beast who had no soul and could shoot people who’d patched up his bruises delivered at the hands of his father. Arthur adored my mother. So many nights he’d come around, lip bleeding from discipline and shoulders slumped from unhappiness. My mother would hug him, kiss him—she loved him like a son.
He would never be able to hurt them.
Ever.
Arthur wasn’t using me. He wasn’t planning to murder my parents.
Was he?
I clutched my hair, tearing it at the roots, refusing to let such evil seep into my thoughts. I knew the boy who held my heart. I knew his dreams and aspirations, and I knew how tender and loving he was.
He would never kill those he cared for. Never!
As I rocked on the bed, swallowing back sobs and terror, something twitched inside my mind.