My Parents Forced My Confession, So I Sent Them to Prison
1: 1
One night, driving for Uber, I saw a few thugs dragging a girl into a back alley.
There wasn't time to think it through. I called the police first, then rushed into the alley and pulled the girl out.
The girl never came to thank me. What came instead were the police, at my door, to arrest me.
She accused me of molesting her, and that was how I ended up in prison.
With a charge like that, my time inside was brutal.
I refused to accept it. After I got out, I kept fighting to clear my name, and right up to the day I died I never managed to.
"What's going on?" I jolted awake from the dream, my whole body soaked in sweat.
Was it a dream?
If it was, it had been too real.
I thought of something and checked it, and a chill crawled up from the soles of my feet. It wasn't a dream.
Or rather, I had dreamed the future.
I glanced at the date. Three days from now was the day those thugs would attack that girl.
This time I had more time to prepare. And this time, I was going to step in.
Seeing the future isn't about dodging the danger ahead. It's about changing that future, and sending the people who deserve hell straight to hell.
......
Three days isn't much, but with everything I knew from seeing the future, it was enough to get some things ready.
I wasn't just going to send those people to hell. I was going to claim a life of my own out of this too.
Otherwise, seeing the future like this would mean nothing.
This was a chance. I had to seize it.
Three days later. The same street, the same alley.
That woman I could never forget, not if I were burned to ash, was being dragged into the alley by a few thugs.
She was crying out for help.
Late at night, in an out-of-the-way place, empty all around, mine the only car passing through.
Call the police. Get out.
Unlike last time, this time I'd brought a wrench.
Everything else was exactly like the scene in the dream.
The injustice of prison, the bitterness of dying wronged, the ugly faces of this human trash. It all sent the rage boiling up in me.
I gripped the wrench and charged into the alley.
In just a few minutes, the thugs were screaming and scrambling to get away, the worst of them with his nose caved in.
Odette Abbott was pale, huddled in a corner and trembling. I took off my jacket and draped it over her.
"I called the police. Don't be afraid."
She pulled the jacket tighter around herself, but couldn't stop shaking.
"Before they get here, listen to me for a second." I looked at her. "This is about clearing both our names. About whether we live or die."
"Let me tell you a few things first. About your secrets."
Her head shot up, her eyes on me. "I know who you are. Three days ago, I had a dream."
I froze, then pressed her. "You dreamed about what was going to happen today?"
She nodded.
"Then why are you still here?" I asked.
"Then why are you here?" she asked back.
2: 2
We looked at each other. Neither of us answered the other's question, but we both understood why the other was here.
After that, the conversation got simple.
The police arrived quickly. We answered every question honestly and gave our statements.
Once we were done, Odette and I went our separate ways home, and the police went off to arrest those thugs based on the leads we'd given them.
On the surface, none of it was any different from the dream.
But Odette and I were both certain this time would turn out different.
And then, the next day, I was cornered outside my rental apartment again.
Jerome Abbott held up his phone. "Everybody look, this is the guy who assaulted my sister and drove her to kill herself."
"God in heaven, why does my daughter have such a wretched fate?" Florence Perry sat on the ground, sobbing like her heart was being torn out. "My poor girl, she's dead, and the monster who did it is still walking free. There's no justice left in this world!"
"You animal, you filthy animal. If the law allowed it, I'd kill you where you stand." Norman Abbott jabbed a finger at me. "My daughter was so kind. How could you lay a hand on her? Go turn yourself in right now and give my daughter the justice she deserves."
More and more people gathered around, and once the Abbotts laid it all out, every pair of eyes turned on me was thick with disgust.
"Looks decent enough on the outside. Who'd have guessed he was this kind of animal."
"If somebody did that to my daughter, I'd beat him to death."
"Lower than a dog."
Curses came from every direction. A few worked-up bystanders started hurling whatever was in their hands at me.
I kept my face hard and looked at Odette's family.
"I did nothing to hurt Odette, and I won't stand here and take your baseless accusations."
"If you think I'm guilty, then call the police and have me arrested."
"You piece of filth, you've still got the nerve to say that?" Norman glared at me. "If you hadn't violated my daughter, how would she be dead?"
"Odette's dead?" My face changed in an instant. A moment ago they'd only said she'd tried to kill herself, and now her own father was saying she was dead.
3: 3
"Don't play innocent. This is all your fault. You're the one who killed my daughter."
"Everyone, you be the judge. What did my daughter ever do wrong, to be bullied like this?"
Florence kept wiping at her tears. "And now the man who hurt her stands here swearing up and down it has nothing to do with him. Is there no justice left in this world?"
"My daughter was such a good girl. How could something like this happen to her? I don't want to live either. I don't want to live anymore."
"Mom, stop. I'll get revenge for my sister." Jerome shoved up his sleeves and rushed at me.
"Don't do anything stupid, don't." Norman grabbed hold of him. "Son, do you think your father has no backbone? Do you think, when your sister was wronged like this, that I, her own father, didn't have the guts to raise a hand against the man who did it?"
"I wanted to. I really wanted to." Tears rolled down Norman's face. "But... but..."
He pointed at me. "But this bastard filmed a video. That video is the reason your sister couldn't face living anymore, and I didn't dare do anything rash. That's why I only asked him to turn himself in."
Norman dropped to his knees in front of me. "My daughter killed herself. She's already dead. If you have any conscience left, go turn yourself in. Let her rest a little easier. I'm begging you. I'm begging you."
He knocked his forehead against the ground, again and again.
Florence knelt and kowtowed with him. "I'm begging you. You don't even have to turn yourself in. Just delete that video of my daughter being hurt. That's all I ask."
"Dad, Mom..." Jerome's fists were clenched, his eyes red, his whole body shaking. He slapped himself across the face, one crack after another. "Sis, you died so unjustly. So unjustly."
"He's an animal. That's what he is." A neighbor pointed at me. "I'd really like to beat a beast like that to death."
"What is the world coming to? The victim's family having to kneel in front of the criminal."
"Get up, all of you. We'll call the police for you."
"No... no..." Norman scrambled to stop them. He looked at me and slapped himself twice. "We got carried away. Our daughter's dead, we really got carried away. It was our fault. We won't call the police, and we won't ask you to turn yourself in."
"Just delete the video. Let my daughter go with her name clean. I'm begging you."
Around us, people were tearing up too.
I watched it all calmly, quietly took out my phone. "I'll call the police."
4: 4
"Don't call the police, I'm begging you, don't call them." Florence rushed the words out. "We don't want compensation, we're not even asking you to turn yourself in. Just delete the video and that's enough."
I looked at her. "I'm not carrying this filth for you. I trust the police will get to the truth. They'll give Odette justice, and they'll clear my name too."
"My poor girl, why did you kill yourself, tell me, why did you do it?" Florence kept wailing. "Now that you're dead, there's no one left to testify, and the man who wronged you has the nerve to call the police."
"Your dad and I are useless, we can't get you justice, so I won't go on living either."
That line of Florence's cut deep. All around me the eyes turned my way burned with anger.
"I understand how you feel. But if you keep twisting things, if you keep trying to turn black into white and pin this filth on me, I won't just call the police to prove I'm innocent. I'll sue you for slander."
"My daughter's already dead. Whatever you say goes, what else can we do? Oh Lord, how can you be so unfair." Florence went on crying.
"Then I'll call them right now." I didn't want to keep arguing the point with them. I took out my phone to make the call.
"You still have the face to call the police?" A shape came rushing at me out of the shout.
Before I could react, whoever it was kicked me down, and once I saw his face I stopped resisting and let the slaps land across my cheek.
"You worthless piece of filth, thieving since you were a boy, and now you pull something this low. If I'd known, I never should've fathered you."
My father cursed me and slapped me at the same time. I didn't fight back. I just stared at him.
My mother came too, standing off to the side, apologizing over and over to Odette's parents.
When he finally stopped, after more than a dozen slaps, my father glared at me with venom in his eyes. "Delete the video and go turn yourself in, right now. Otherwise I don't have a son like you."
My brother spoke up as well. "Emmet, you couldn't get yourself a wife because you've got nothing to offer, fine. But that doesn't mean you get to ruin some poor girl."
"How are Mom and Dad supposed to hold their heads up now? You... you... you've let us down so badly."
"Son, how could you do a thing like this?" My mother wiped at her tears. "Your dad and I have lived honest all our lives. We never asked you to make something of yourself, but you... where does that leave our old faces? Listen to me and go turn yourself in."
"You do wrong, you stand and take your punishment. Emmet, that's what Dad always taught us."
"Emmet, if you've got a habit of stealing, fine, that's one thing. But of all the things you should never have done, it's this."
"A dog can't change its ways. Watching you grow up, I had you pegged from the start." My father's face was cold. "This time he has to be convicted. Lock him up for a good few years."
I looked calmly at my own flesh and blood. They'd come at me without asking a single question about right or wrong, telling me to turn myself in.
And that wasn't all. They twisted the truth the same way.
I've lived clean. I never stole a thing, never robbed anyone. As the eldest son, the year my father fell gravely ill, I had no choice but to quit school and go to work.
For over ten years I'd worked in factories, on construction sites, waited tables, delivered food.
For over ten years I'd studied in whatever spare time I had, passed the adult college exams, earned my degree.
But because my father could no longer work and my mother had to care for him, the burden of his medical bills and putting my brother through school fell on me.
I worked at a company by day, and drove for Uber at night.
I never dared rest, not for a moment. I'm nearly thirty. I wanted a wife, but I had no money to marry one.
My own flesh and blood couldn't see any of what I'd given. They rushed over the second they heard, told me to confess, and thought about cutting me off for good.
I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, looked past all of them, over to that figure with tears falling like rain. "Turn around and look. Go ask her whether I ever did anything to hurt Odette."
Everyone turned. Odette's parents went pale in an instant.
"Isn't your sister dead?" My brother looked at Jerome.
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