° ° Here we
... Another chapter long. It took relatively little to write, even if ... was not so easy ._____. be prepared for a lot 'of discovery: D
Happy reading!
yet another flight. These damn stairs seem endless.
Accelero pace, glancing at my wristwatch. Eight. I should have been here an hour ago. Not bad ... after all, it is still of my last moments of freedom.
I reach the landing, the door of the office is down the hall.
Suddenly, I seem to have become unable to move. Crossing the threshold, face reality and say goodbye to all my dreams. I stare, unable to decide.
I could always give up. Follow the plan and filarmela.
I seem to have the body tremendously heavy. I try to take a step forward, but I can not move an inch. I'm afraid.
still continue to have, even if stray. Indeed, it would be worse.
breathe deeply.
Just thoughts. If you decide to get this far, might as well go the whole hog.
I walk the last few yards that separate me from the office fighting the instinct that screams to me give it to me with his legs. I hesitate before knocking.
Go away, go away ... damn!
I'm about to give up when the door opens before me.
-Oh, there you are, Kurt. A bit 'late, eh? - Signorina Flanaghan greets me with a smile. Has the air of one who was going to go home. He probably thought that I would not have submitted.
-Ho ... I found the traffic-chin.
I do not want to say I have spent the last three hours locked in my basement in the company of Smith & Wesson, considering whether to end or not.
-Do not worry. I'm glad you could come, she says, turning her back and headed for the desk. He sits down, without even taking off his jacket, and orders the approach.
Take a seat on the chair in front of her. I watch in silence as he pulls out some papers from the drawers, a pen ... and the recorder. The light then begins to flow sheets with air absorbed, muttering to himself, as if unable to find what you are looking for. When he finally pulls out the file it needs, with a satisfied smile.
-Here. So, I called you because I need a little clarification. I was double-checking the information that you guys have given me during our first meeting and I noticed something. You live in Culver City, right? -
nod plan.
-Exactly-whisper.
feel the tension rising. She glances at me over his glasses at intense. Surely he noticed my change of expression, but pretends not to notice.
-Interesting. Area television studios, eh? - Says, leafing through his papers back. He pulls out another file.
I understand to be holding my breath. I try to assume a more relaxed, without much success.
-Already-
Let me add something else, but I can not think of anything. My hands are cold and my head throbs. Flanaghan not bat an eyelid.
-Sai, a few days ago I had a chat with some colleagues from Chelsea. I have spoken very highly of a local area, the Backstage. It often happened that they found there once the shooting ended. A nice place, not far from the studies pauses to resettle-glasses - ... and, I believe, right near your home-ends, back at me.
I feel like my head might explode at any moment. His look is penetrating, leaves no way out. It seems he's trying to dig deep in my soul.
Why pull so for long?
His calm tone, the smiles of encouragement, the expression relaxed. It 's just tactics. It 'obvious that he already knows everything. He's playing with me like a cat and mouse.
-Tell me, 'Kurt ... you ever met Chelsea in that local? -
Here it is. It's starting point is approached.
not stop looking at me.
not stand it.
Try to stay calm, try to stay calm ...
Useless.
-E '... it was an accident! - He says, exasperated, I did not kill him! I love her ... but he was my friend ... I never ... - my voice died in a hoarse rattle.
Flanaghan looks at me air shock.
-Have you been you? - Murmurs.
looked at her vitriolic.
-As if you did not know. Why would you have started with that story on the Backstage and the meeting with Chelsea, otherwise? -
She ran a hand through his hair sheepishly.
-I ... well, I guess there was a connection between you when I discovered the existence of the room, a couple of days ago. I did a little 'questions around, bartenders They told me I saw you together in Chelsea, in the past. I called to talk about it, but do not really believe that ... - looks down, biting his lower lip.
stared with wide eyes.
no trick, no catch. His only wanted to be a damn interview. And I let myself be impressed by his manners, to blurt out everything like an idiot.
After all, was what you wanted, right? Confess and serve your sentence.
I feel light-headed, thousand conflicting voices fight each other trying to buy supremacy. I was a fool to fall so quickly, but I can not help but feel relieved. Now it's done: I can not draw back.
-I think it's better if I tell her everything from start-continuous.
breathe deeply. My words, initially stunted and barely comprehensible, are quick to turn into a river in flood:
-I knew when Chelsea had just started going out with Larry. At first I thought it was just a cute girl, nothing more. We never visited much. Then six months ago ... I left my old house and I moved to Culver City-
-Ed that was when you started dating Chelsea? - Says she.
I nodded my head.
-Yeah. I had no friends in the area, but the Backstage the air had to be a good space in which to meet other people.
... She often went there after work, alone or with colleagues. At the beginning reports were of simple courtesy, we are greeted and nothing more.
Over time, we started to talk longer. If she was alone, which happened to sit at the table with me for a chat or a drink. He had ways to do some 'special, but had an extraordinary character. Knew how to laugh and he was really attractive. We did not talk to any of our night meetings ... I do not know exactly why. It was our little secret-
you make a new application:
-The relationship between Larry and Chelsea had already in crisis, at the time? -
I nod again.
-It seems so. In fact, she had to be tired. He said that was not his type. He wanted to leave, but feared to make him suffer. Larry loved her to death, did not miss anything ... she felt guilty because he was not able to repay him-rest in silence for a moment. The detective encourages me to continue.
A shiver runs through my spine. The sense of shame that has haunted me for months I'm struck again. I try not to think about it and go on in the story:
-Our meetings Backstage at became more and more frequent. She told me her problems and I did my best to cheer her up.
I knew she felt something for me. I understood from his gaze, as he approached to speak with one voice so sensual ... more than one occasion I had to do my best to resist the temptation to kiss her. I knew I was in love with her, but I did not mean to betray my friend. One evening, I found her on the back of the room in tears.
had a fight with Larry. She was tired and downcast, said he did not longer be able to endure that situation. I tried to do my best to console her, but the desire to keep her close to me was too strong. Before I could realize it, we were kissing. I ... I was in confusion. I knew I wanted it, but I could not bear to hurt Larry-clench their fists, keeping their gaze fixed on the floor.
The memory of that night is still vividly imprinted in my memory: his face in despair, my words of comfort, caress ... and then some, the warmth of his lips against mine.
-After the evening appointments moved to my house. Be seen around it was too dangerous. Our relationship went on for months ... and then ... shit, I do not know either how I could! - He says, before throwing a punch at his desk, making files and recording shaky.
The Flanaghan lets out a stifled cry: the sudden blow must have frightened them. She pulls back, looking like a frightened animal.
When you realize that I will not attack it, calms down. Check that the tape is in place and continues with the questions:
-Hai said that the death Larry was an accident. How was it, exactly? -
images that sad night they return to repeat once again before my eyes. I would chase them, but I can not. The thick stomach becomes more acute, I began to tremble.
romantic End of story. Now we move to the nightmare.
-That ... that night Chelsea had invited me to his house. It had never happened that I had to go to her, but for once we had decided to change. Larry had his interview and would not return before dawn. The house is situated in an isolated area: it was hard for anyone to see me go. We could rest easy ... or at least, was what we thought. For the eight, I was already there-
opens his mouth in a grimace of astonishment.
-Eight? - Starts leafing through his notes again in-miseriaccia. The neighbors said they had heard the roar of an engine around that time, even if they had not seen the car in question. They believed that it was of her car, but apparently ... it was yours. Let me guess: you have left the lights off at home all evening, so be on the safe-
shake my head:
No, not really. Chelsea had organized an evening by candlelight. Complete darkness, only a few lights here and there to set the mood. He loves that kind of crap. And I ... well, I could not wait to embrace. We had a bit 'of cocaine, always there in the dark, and then on with amusement.
A little 'I felt guilty: after all, I was still fucking the girl my drummer. In his house. I had even cheated his slippers! - A bitter laugh.
I see the detective stare:
-then what is ... - murmured, as if lost in his thoughts. Soon after, will be charged and asked me to move on. Sigh.
remorse-I were soon to disappear. She was beautiful ... and I wanted more than anything else. After making love, as two children collapsed in bed. It all seemed perfect. And then ... there was that damned noise-
curious glance:
-Noise? -
Down with his gaze again. For the umpteenth time, I find myself to relive the exact same scene: the dark room, the noise downstairs. The stifled cry of Chelsea.
Damn, they entered the thieves!
-It was the back door, someone had closed with too much violence, making us wake up with a start. We were terrified. It could not be Larry, it was still too early. We thought it was a thief. We were a little 'How High, we were unable to reason in a very shiny ... especially I-whisper.
The memories keep coming back to the surface, I can not do anything to stop them. Whispers of panic, frightened eyes. She clings to me.
There's a gun in the nightstand drawer.
-Chelsea told me to take the revolver. Larry took it one right next to the bed. It was not a lover of arms, but when you live in an isolated place you never know: better to have a chance to defend at hand. If only he could imagine ... - I make a vague gesture with his hand. I realize that it took his fists clenched to the point to form purple bruises in the palm, near the nails.
-I stood there waiting, ready to attack anyone who entered. I wanted to be tough, but I was doing on the fear-
The echoes of footsteps on the stairs. A slight squeak: the door of the bedroom that opens.
Freeze or I'll shoot.
He who jumps, flat-footed.
-When Larry came in, did not recognize him either. It was damn dark, I could not understand a shit. I kept telling myself not to move, but I was more and more terrified-
What the hell ...?
Her hands raised to show that it is harmless.
Kurt ...?
I told you to stand still!
-Chelsea had realized that something was wrong. He had tried to stop him, but he had moved ... and I had started the blow-
Kurt, NO!
The deafening noise of the shot, the crying of her, the body collapses on the ground ... and blood. A pool of blood.
What the fuck have you done? Larry ... damn, it's Larry ...
-When I became aware of what happened, I could not move. It seemed that the world had stopped. I kept staring at him in silence, unable to react. I had shot at close range, a few inches from the heart. ... He had recognized my voice. Before that fires had been my name, that he had spoken. And it was all so absurd ... he should not even be there. The idea to stage suicide was Chelsea. If the police had stuck its nose into the affair would be the end for both. ... She did everything herself. He told me not to touch anything and forced me to go home. He wanted to protect me, but he also wanted to salvage his career. Delete all the tests: we used the glasses, plates and sheets ... even those fucking slippers. The gun was a touch of class, once cleaned up, placed it in the hand of Larry-
- ... Too bad that it was the wrong hand, she intervenes.
I leave miss a puff.
-Yeah. Even if you put a little 'to figure it out ... as for the impression, apparently-creeps.
Flanaghan wringing their hands sheepishly:
- was confused ... it was a track. I can not deny that Chelsea has done a good job of hiding all possible clues. It is also a good actress-
A bitter smile.
-Yeah ... nothing more than soap opera. A drama by Oscar-grumble - ... plus a good dose of sheer luck. Our choices that evening helped to create an alibi for Chelsea. Once cleaned up the scene and called an ambulance, saying he found the body. The police gave us a favor by filing the instant case, but neither of us feel he could still be here ... so it was that Chelsea and I began to plan his escape. She would say that would turn back to her old home in San Antonio, while I told the guys I'd be back in Kansas. We had everything ready to leave Canada. We started a new life together, leaving behind that story. But the guilt continued to haunt me every day. I am no longer able to face the boys ever since. I know I can not just pretend that nothing has happened. I ... I feel betrayed-all eyes are starting to pinch - ... if only I could change things ... ... Larry -
Flanaghan is looking at me in silence while I continue to call upon the name of Larry voice broken, crying like a baby. I see her get up from your desk, trying not to make noise.
is approaching, then hesitates for a moment. The tears continue to flow to the face, despair and fear built up in recent months found their outlet in my sobs.
I feel a light touch on her shoulder, she bends over me
-Maybe you can not change things, but you made the right choice coming here-whispers -you were very brave, law can only essertene grateful. I ... I'm sorry it happened. I think ... I think you should follow in central-
nod plan.
-I hope the guys can forgive me one day- murmur.
you turn off the recorder with a sigh.
-I hope so too-
It 'clear that even she does not think so.
___________________________________ Notes:
-Theoretically, this should be the last episode from the point of view of Corey. Then I thought the whole thing would have been better if told directly framed in terms of Kurt ... also to finally give a face to the narrator in Chapter 28.
"With this chapter, I had a shot of absurdity ass XD I had already decided that the report of Chelsea and Kurt would begin in a room which is located a short distance from his house and the television studios of her, but I had not done real research to find a place that actually exists. The bar you see in the scenes is built completely to shit. However, when I wrote the chapter, I realized I have to give a name to the damn bar. As I break to invent it from scratch (you have no idea how many years it took me to uscirmene a trivial thing as the "Genny's" Chapter 20 D:), I started searching on Google the names of some 'pubs of the '80s in Los Angeles. Bon, with locals that I have sprung out, And there was the Backstage Bar Grill. I went to see e. .. Big surprise! It is located in Culver City, which I found to be precisely the area of television studios in Los Angeles County ... as well as residential district, home to many celebrities. What's even more shocking? The bar is all made of wood and furniture with old-fashioned, a bit 'like what you see in the photos that I did X ° D is, indeed, more so bunch of' if a little 'XD
-Kurt This is my first non-psychopathic murderess. I mean before the bad in my stories was always someone possessed, casting serious brain or personality problems. Kurt has none of these problems: leaving out the effect of the drug, was afraid to rub. Not really intended to do harm to Larry and he feels really guilty about what he did. Making his feelings was not at all easy. While with one that does not fit with the head you can concentrate on a particular paranoia, a vision that leads to act in a certain way and stuff like that, with Kurt's all based on fear and guilt .. . and, as in the case of feelings common to all human beings, make in this field can be quite an undertaking. I hope to be able to give the idea T_____T
-I enjoyed making a mess XD for more photos of the murder, I've done before installing the Debug Enabler ... so all the poses of the sim are due to play me, I did not simply extracted from the mod ._____. Larry died twice, for this chapter: first, to stage the assassination itself. The second, because I needed to cry at the Chelsea bar ._____. the good thing is that eventually the crying scene in which Chelsea have not even included in the photos, I put directly the part where Kurt consoles XD
-... Anyway ... very good at all of us who had guessed the possible culprit! : D
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