Chapter 14 Sleepless Nights, Guilty Conscience

No doubt about it it was the boy. After two years, he had stood right before me, eyes wide
with recognition and shock plastered on his face. I had stared him down, unable to break
eye contact. But I couldnt have, even if I wanted to. His eyes had bored into mine, as if he
could read my thoughts. Then he had disappeared into the crowd.
I self consciously ran my hands over my face as if my secret was on show for everyone to
see. But the image of his shocked face was still fresh in my mind, imprinted onto my brain.
Those eyes. The same eyes as his father. The same eyes I had seen go out.
I dismissed it as I lay in bed. My wife seemed preoccupied beside me and hadnt noticed my
agitation at all. Frankly the less she noticed, the better. Sleep eluded me that night. Every
time I closed my eyes, the image of the kid resurfaced from my conscious, followed by the
echoing gunshot and the limp body lying bloodied in my hands. It made my heart rate
almost spiral out of control and I leapt out of bed for fear that my wife would be woken by
its insistent pounding that seemed magnified in the silence of the night.
I scrambled into the bathroom, locked the door and splashed my face with water, willing it
to wash away the memories. I sat down on the cool tiles breathing heavily, trying to
organise my thoughts.
Then it hit me he was Will Stewarts. He was the same kid from two years ago, the same
kid from the gardening centre and the same kid who was friends with my daughter. How
had I not recognised him earlier?! Anger and frustration coursed though me. Had he told
her? Did Carrie know anything? Carrie had been acting odd lately but probably no more
than your average teenage girl, I mused.
But the boy? He definitely knew it was me. What would he do? Go to the police with no
evidence apart from what he saw two years ago? Blackmail me by threatening to expose me
to my family - to everyone? I stood up slowly, leant heavily on the sink and examined myself
in the mirror.
I am not a murderer. I had been trying to stop that drunk from causing trouble. Then it got
messy when he fought me... I didnt mean to shoot him. He had attacked me in the alley. It
was self defence. But it terrified me and I had to run. I needed to get away. That man was
just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I panicked... it was his own fault. He made me do
it. If he hadnt tried to be a hero... it would never have happened.
And nothing is going to happen anytime soon, I thought firmly and closed my eyes tightly.
This boy needed to be dealt with. But how? I could corner him; find out what he knows and
what he plans to do with it. But he would always be a threat, a constant nagging in the back
of my mind. He would be like a bomb that could explode at any moment and blow my life to
pieces. My eyes became emotionless as I realised what needed to be done.
He needed to be silenced.