Never Woulda Dunit | Teen Ink

Never Woulda Dunit

February 6, 2012
By K.Spirit PLATINUM, Nashville, Tennessee
K.Spirit PLATINUM, Nashville, Tennessee
26 articles 0 photos 4 comments

The police came in
One by one by one by
One gave me a glossy green, slit-eyed stare
He said Ma’am, I know you dunit
I stayed sulking in my corner, twisted my Dun streaked hair,
Clucked like a horse-rancher as I chewed my rubbery pink Wrigley’s
Nah, I’d say you got some things messed up
I loved my sister, so just leave us be I told him
He held up a six shooter with a shiny varnished wood grip, luster grey barrel
This yours he asked, not even a question
Ma’am, I know you dunit, follow me
He led me outside, by my pale wrists, where skin is stretched tight like latex
There, under the pale linoleum moon, smooth as a black Fender headstock,
He lifted the white plastic off the body to show my sister’s head and nothing else
He took a puff on his cig, and soon the fumes fanned into multiple coils and vortexes
Leaving a stale, gas-fire musk in each cloudy spiral
He exhaled a film of fog, said Can’t show you the rest of the body, but, Ma’am, I know you dunit
I looked into Minn’s crescent eyes, her tallow half closed lids
Looked like the greedy clouds that keep the moon’s better half captive for themselves
And the only visible part of her eyes were the gray underneath, sunken in and sheenless
I never woulda dunit, I never woulda dunit, sir
I tried to reach for her glazed black hair, but the police man handed me a thin rubber glove
The color of a smoker’s yellowed cornea
And said, Can’t touch the evidence, cuz Ma’am, I know you dunnit

I stared at him for just a moment, placed my frightening lead glare on his heart
Reluctantly slipped my sweaty fingers in the stretchy material and wriggled ‘em a bit
Let it meld to the shape of my palm so the greasy perspire marks appeared around the knuckles
I took my two slender fingers and closed Minn’s lids for good
So her beautiful lacquered lashes could cover up her gentle dead eyes
I turned to the police man, glanced once at the gun, twice at his heart, and then at my sister
A cold heavy tear slid across my face like a metal door slamming into place
I never woulda dunit


The author's comments:
Is she guilty? I never even decided for myself

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