The Trunk

It’s in the trunk. The body is in the trunk. There was no need to be worried. I’m a good driver, I won’t get pulled over nor will I wreck. I should just stop worrying.

WEE-WOO, WEE-WOO!

I heard sirens and saw the red and blue lights in my rearview mirror. My heart instantly sunk to my stomach. I looked down at the speedometer and realized I was going 10 miles below the speed limit. I was going 10 miles slower? I felt like I was speeding along with all the thoughts in my head. I pulled over to the side of the highway; sweat dripping off of my head. I hope it’s a fast procedure, I hope he just writes me the ticket and leaves. Can you even get a ticket for going slow? Oh god, here he comes.

“Good evening, do you realize why I pulled you over?” the officer asked.

“Was I driving too slow, sir?”

“Yes, 10 miles too slow. That’s unusual on a busy high way. Why are you sweating so much, boy? It’s 34 degrees out.”

I hesitated, “Um, um… I got the heat full blasting in here!”

“Can you step out of the car for me?”

“Yes, is there a problem officer?”

He knows. He knows I killed him. How could I be so stupid? It was an honest mistake.

“Not yet,” he assured me.

Don’t you get less time if you confess?

“I did it! I killed him!”

“Killed who, boy?”

I was mumbling a bunch of words but nothing made sense.

“I didn’t understand a word you just said,” the officer said.

I walked him to the back of the car and opened the trunk. I stood there watching him as he stared at the dead cockroach in the trunk bed.