Where Is The Edge

Chapter 1

She sighed, as if she hadn't prepared herself enough to question me beyond asking the cliché and the obvious, "so, I reiterate, do you remember doing anything else that night?"

"Maybe I went to the cinema, it's the only place I frequent enough that there's a chance I might have been there."

"Do you have proof? Do you still have the ticket?" She asked.

"I keep all the tickets from every time I've been to the movies," I confirmed, I kept them in a box, knowing that this day would come sooner or later, eventually, they would stop investigating family, friends, or employees, and start digging further. I wouldn't be surprised if they had questioned or were about to question those who had filed lawsuits against them, I didn't file one, yet I was known to be less than happy that my mother had died at his hands.

"Would you mind bringing them in? And if you have receipts from other places, I could use them too."

Oh, I knew that tactic. She was going to assess whether I would just bring the movie tickets or bring something else. Anyone who didn't really remember anything from a day so long ago would bring anything they could remember. If I brought only the movie tickets, it would imply that I was lying, and that I remembered what happened. Of course I remembered, I had murdered the bastard, however, it wasn't of my convenience that they knew.

When I went to my room, I took the small box containing the tickets, and I also took all the receipts I could find. I doubted if there was anything from even three months ago, but I repeat, I didn't have to give myself away by bringing only one thing.

When I handed them the box and the receipts, they spent at least ten minutes digging around, looking for one by one to indicate a date close to the event.

"Why do you keep the movie tickets?" Questioned the detective who had asked me the most questions.

I wasn't at all interested in keeping so many of those...

"As souvenirs, I'd even like to buy a diary and put each ticket with its respective date, it would be a hobby, I guess," I justified, even trying to make the most tender and helpless eyes I could. It's just that, come on, I was young.

"'Heat', December 19, 1995, 21:45 showing," said the other one of them, having been silent since he came in, "that movie is so long, you'd be getting home around midnight, do you have any idea how dangerous it is for someone like you to be out at that hour?"

Not only did it infuriate me too much that they were going to such great lengths to solve the murder of a sexist, labour exploiting, misogynistic and classist man, it also infuriated me to see them imply that I couldn't go out and enjoy a film at whatever fucking time I felt like.

"I have an idea, but the cinema is only a block from this building," I kept my cool, I couldn't afford to explode when I was doing so well. Soon enough, they would go away and leave me alone, and I could get on with my life.

"Still, a lot can happen in a block."

"Oh, and if something were to happen to me, I guess you would be the first to get justice for me, wouldn't you?" The words came out before I could stop them. I was sick of people like him. "I'm sorry, but it's just annoying to watch how you have been moving heaven and earth for months now to find the culprit of a murder, and when it comes to my mother, who it was more than obvious who murdered her, you didn't lift a finger when it would just take an arrest and that's it." I sighed deeply, controlling the urge to cry this time. "So forgive me, for not having enough money or power to buy you off, but I just wanted to go out and see a movie because I'm entitled to indulge in a little fun."

Both of them had their mouths hanging open, not knowing what to say next, I remained in my place and willed myself to calm down, closing my eyes as I breathed. If they even took me as a potential suspect, I was sure I would be sunk, I couldn't afford the best lawyers, I didn't have any acquaintances who did that.