When I was 11 years old I was the only witness to the brutal murder of Rose Madoc. She was approached by a man in a bck hoodie on the 19th of December. After exiting a Marathon she was stabbed, robbed, and left to bleed out on the curb. Fortunately a man from the same Marathon came across Rose and quickly called an ambunce, but it was no use. She was dead.

  She died over nothing. A woman died, a mother, and all over 53 dolrs. The man that so selfishly took a woman’s life was never caught. The man who came across Rose however was my father.

  He was inside picking up a pack of American spirit bcks as I waited in the car. When he opened the door to the gas station stepping into the night he heard a woman scream. That’s when he came across the already perished Miss Madoc.

  The car ride home was quiet. The silence was only briefly being interrupted by the sounds of police sirens. My father asked me if I wanted to talk about it. I shook my head then leaned it against the rattling window. I reminded my dad I loved him and he said it back.

  That’s at least what I told people.

  I wasn’t with my dad that night. My parents were going through a divorce at the time, and my mother thought that it would be best if I wasn’t with dad. The divorce was still fairly new and he wasn’t handling it the best. I rarely got to see my father after the divorce. On December 19th my mom received a call from my father. I remember her demeanor, quickly shifting from annoyed to worried. She told me that daddy was coming over to have a grown-up talk with mommy and that I couldn’t bother them during the conversation.

  I was watching adventure time when I heard a knock at the door. Mom quickly ran over leading the cold air in only to see my father in the frame. He didn’t look like my father though. My dad was a strong man. My dad was tough. He was covered head to toe in old school sailor tattoos and a beard that fit the build. My father was crying. His eyes were red and his cheeks were puffy. It reminded me of how he looked when grandpa died.

  Without saying a word he stared ahead at the hallway, leading to my mother’s bedroom. As my father made his way down the hall my mother turned to me and told me they wouldn’t long. After she shut the door, I heard my father sobbing.

  No wall was thick enough to dampen the anguish of his screams. He wallowed in incomprehensible ramblings. I remember being scared. This wasn’t like my father.

  Through the hysterical muttering I heard him telling my mom that he loved her. Not my mother but Rose Madoc.

  He went on describing the scene he came across. I didn’t understand at the time and it has never been out right confirmed to me. I’m old enough now that I can put two and two together. My father and Rose were having a retionship behind my mothers back. Rose Madoc’s death destroyed my father.

  Two hours ter my dad walked into the living room. He stood by the couch, put his hand on my shoulder and told me he loved me. My dad still sounded broken, not sounding like himself.

  I wanted to say something. I wanted to ask him what was wrong. The anxiety that consumed his hand shook my entire body. I did love my dad. I do love my dad. My mouth refused to utter the words. This was not my dad. This man scared me.

  My body suddenly stopped rattling, and the pressure on my shoulder lifted. He turned around and disappeared out the door.

  I love you too dad.

  The gravity of the situation had not yet cemented. I wasn't able to grasp the tragedy as a child. I could only remember how I felt.

  The next day at school, we had a substitute teacher. She stood up from her desk with a clipboard and a pen ready to do attendance.

  “Jacob Ladderman?”

  “Here.”

  “Jane Hart?”

  “Here.”

  “Bitch..” a voice from the back of the css whispered.

  Jane turned to see four boys snickering in the corner. She flipped up the “Chinese” middle finger to avoid the consequences of the proper finger being used.

  “Carl Parker?”

  “H-here.” Said one of the boys, still ughing.

  “Liliana Madoc?”

  “…”

  “Is there a Liliana Madoc?” She sighed, tapping her over eager pen.

  “I don’t think she’s here today.” A girl added.

  “Thanks Abby I think she got that.” Carl cracking up in his seat.

  “Alright, settle down we don’t have all day.” Mrs. Hillbert crossed Lilly’s name off the paper.

  After sitting down her clipboard, she picked up another stack of papers. One by one, handing us a word search, while expining that we need to finish two before recess. Naturally I attempted to solve the paper puzzles in record time. Despite my efforts, I ended up finishing around the same time as everyone else. Soon enough the bell rang, and it was time for lunch.

  Standing at the door lining up in alphabetical order we made our way to lunch. Behind me I heard a group of girls talking. I recognize one of the voices being Haley Baker.

  “Does anyone know where Lily is?” Haley asked.

  “I don’t know, I just hope she’s not sick.” Another girl spoke. “ I was at her house this weekend so I really hope she’s just faking.”

  The line started moving as we made our way single file to the lunch room. I stopped to get a drink from the water fountain, purely with the intention of falling behind the line and catching up to Haley. I wipe my newly wetted lips with my sleeve and sped walk over to her. I tapped on her shoulder, she span around.

  “Oh, hey Jacob.” She sounded surprised.

  “Hey Haley.” I said winding up to the main point.

  “What’s u—“ Being interrupted.

  “Yeah so, I overheard you asking about Lilly.”

  “Oh yeah. Did you hear from her?”

  “Yes.” I answered too quickly. “Well I mean no. Umm..” I paused debating the reason I even needed to tell her. “Lilly’s mom is dead. She got killed st night, like murdered.”

  “…”

  “That’s not funny Jacob.” She said, with a disgusted look yet still concerned.

  “ I’m serious, I was there.”

  “ What is wrong with you Jacob? That’s not true, and even if it was, why would you say that?” She said angrily. Without giving me time to respond, she turned the other way, ignoring anything that I would’ve said.

  I went to sit at my lunch table. When I caught a gnce from the same group of girls. They were giving me dirty looks. I don’t know what they were saying, all I did know is that it was about me. The rest of the day felt kind of awkward. I didn’t know it, but word spreads a lot faster than you think as a kid. It’s one “don’t tell anyone else” secret after another, nothing is sacred as a kid. However, the next day was different.

  Our regur teacher, Mrs. Clementine returned the following day. She thanked us for being such a good css. She told us that the sub left a good note, and for that we would have extra recess. She also told us that Lily would not be attending school for a week. She informed us without giving any of the details that Lily's mother had passed.

  The css gasped. A few of the girls started tearing up. Even Carl, who is usually a jackass, was being oddly respectful. Mrs. Clementine expined that we were going to make get well cards for Lilly and her family.

  From across the cssroom, I noticed a pair of eyes locked on me. They were Haleys. She looked even more confused than she did yesterday. I knew that she wanted to ask me something so when we got up to get material for the cards she did.

  “Jacob.”

  I contempted ignoring her, but in the end it seemed pointless.

  “Hey Haley.”

  “How did you know?” in a quiet yet stern tone.

  “I told you I was there.” I was already in the lie and too embarrassed to back off now.

  Beads of tears begin to sweat from her eyes. She grabbed a random assortment of markers and made her way to her desk just in time for her to put her head down.

  I was lost at this point. I don't know why I said the things I said. I just needed something. Attention. Control. Maybe even just the chance to be heard. I didn’t understand the severity of the lie at the time. I don’t know what was wrong with me growing up. I think I lied because I liked the feeling of having the answers. I was too young and without thinking about the consequences.

  Even if I didn’t understand then. I knew that I wasn’t going to see my father again after that day. I think some part of me thought lying about being there, with my father, somehow would make me feel closer. But he was gone for good and I didn’t even get to say I love you. How embarrassing. I felt ashamed. Seeing Haley’s head resting on her arms as her body jolts at random from the quiet sorrow. I was lost on what to do.

  I sat down next to her.

  My heart was racing out of nervousness and embarrassment. I felt the sweat beginning to pool in the middle of my back as I grabbed the chair. I asked her if she was okay. She got quieter and slowly turned her vision towards me. Her voice was almost a whisper, and she asked me if I could sit with her for the rest of css. I smiled at her, and she smiled back. She looked so genuine. We sat there for the remainder of css, next to each other not saying a word.

  Next month will be our six-year anniversary.

  Haley keeps asking me what kind of cake I want. She should know that the answer is always going to be chocote. Her mom's been sending me dress color swatches like I care. I smile. I say the right things. But tely, something’s different. At night, when she’s asleep next to me, I find myself lying there staring at the ceiling. I lying there thinking. Thinking of things I wish I could forget.

  I used to justify it to myself. I was just a kid. That I didn’t know better. But I think I did. Not all of it, not the full weight, but enough to know I was wrong. Enough to know I was saying something that wasn’t true, and went on to say it anyway. Enough to know if someone found out I would be in trouble. I would be no different than the 11-year-old I was back then. I was still just a scared little kid.

  I built a life from that feeling.

  I told a lie about Lily’s mom, and for whatever reason, it stuck. I made it stick. People looked at me like I was brave. It was hard not to want more of it.

  I thought the worst thing I did was tell a lie. But the reality of the situation is the worst thing I did was let that lie become the reason she loved me.

  I have built my life upon a foundation of li

  es.

  I don’t know how to carry this anymore.

  Lily’s mom was just the beginning of the web.

  And everything is starting to unravel.