Written by Jules Hebert
I don’t remember much from the night before. Raegan and I had been spending more time together than with Charlotte, and we knew she was jealous and annoyed, but we didn’t realize just how much. Raegan invited us to her house for a sleepover to try and smooth things over with Charlotte. What we didn’t know was that our lives would be changed forever because of that night on August 24th.
I was already at Raegan’s house when Charlotte got there. She seemed really reluctant to hug me, and didn’t hug Reagan at all. Was I missing something? She hadn’t seen us in weeks and was suddenly so distant and quiet. We talked for hours about boys and our families while we painted each other’s nails. We drank Shirley Temples, it had always been Raegan’s favorite. We watched my favorite Rom-Com, 10 Things I Hate About You. I don’t remember anything after about halfway through the movie, which was really odd because even when I’m really tired I always remember everything. The next thing I remember is waking up, my hands aching. I felt extremely fatigued and almost jet-lagged.
I woke up to Charlotte’s screams. She was shaking Raegan frantically trying to wake her up. “Brynlee!” she shrieked, “Raegan’s not breathing, and her skin is cold!” My heart stopped. Raegan had been my best friend since preschool, and it was now the beginning of senior year. Would I have to graduate without my best friend? I was still in shock, processing that she may be dead as Charlotte called the police. How could so much be happening at 9 o’clock in the morning? Just a few hours ago we were laughing and talking and watching movies. And now it was just me and Charlotte, looking at Reagan. Speechless.
When the police got there with the paramedics they immediately pronounced her dead at the scene. Charlotte and I were rushed to the police station to be questioned. The whole interview is a blur. The only thing I could think about was how someone could do this to her. Everyone loved her, I couldn’t think of anyone who would want to hurt her. One of the questions the police asked stuck out to me. “Why are your hands so bruised and red?” That was a good question. I didn’t know the answer. Should I tell them that I don’t remember the night before? How the only thing I know is that I woke up next to her dead body?
“I don’t remember anything from last night,” I told them, “We were watching a movie and the next thing I know is Charlotte was screaming and calling 911.” They probably thought I was crazy.
On August 27, the autopsy report was finished. Her cause of death was “pending”. But they found bruises on her neck which looked like someone had strangled her. The police wanted to drug test me to see if I had any trace of a drug that could cause memory loss. They found morphine which can harm memory-making. I don’t remember taking any drugs to go to sleep. But again, I don’t remember much from that night. “What if I was drugged,” I thought to myself, but I quickly disregarded the thought because I was with my friends the whole night. Or who I thought were my friends.
They were able to collect fingerprints from Raegan’s neck, and took mine and Charlotte’s fingerprints to test against the ones found on her neck. I can’t believe they think I could actually murder my best friend.
I woke up to banging on my bedroom door. My mom burst into my room frantically, “Brynlee, what did you do?!” I knew something was wrong by the look of panic on her face as if she’d seen a ghost.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” I begged.
“The police are here for you,” she said, “what did you do?” she repeated. No, it couldn’t be. I didn’t do anything to hurt anyone.
I went downstairs and saw the police standing at my front door. They immediately took my hands and put them behind my back, dragging me to the cop car. They were stating all my rights as they were arresting me, but I couldn’t hear anything. I knew someone framed me for this. But that doesn’t explain why my hands were so red and sore the morning after the sleepover.
I had a visitor the next morning, Charlotte. “Aww Bryn, it’s so sad seeing you in here, but how could you kill our best friend?” she mocked.
“Charlotte, I didn’t do it, you were there the whole time,” I pleaded.
“I know,” she said with no emotion, “because I did.” I was speechless. “Let me put the pieces together for you,” she said, “I drugged your Shirley Temple to put you to sleep and have no memory of the night. Then I waited for you to drift off and Raegan shortly after. Then, I took your hands and used them to choke Raegan to death.” I felt like someone had just punched me in the gut. “You shouldn’t have left me out, Brynlee.”