I took some money from my fathers wallet, told my parents i was heading over to a friends house. I got my coat, walked outside and lit up a cigarette. It was quite a chilly morning out, but the cigarette gave me a sense of false warmth. It was slightly misty out with a small wind, but it wasn't wet. Perfect for what i had in mind. The traveller park is located by the beach, a good half an hour walk away from my house. I wasn't in a rush anyway, nobody would be going anywhere this early in the morning. My parents are used to me going for walks in the early hours, so they didn't find it strange when i left the house at 7:30. I cut through the abandoned factories on to the old wastelands.
As i walked through, taking in my surroundings and enjoying the fresh breeze against the side of my face, i reconsidered and reconsidered what i was about to do. Should I do it? Could i do it? Would i do it? These were all examples of questions running through my head. But I had to be firm with myself. It's now or never. Now, or leave yourself be pushed over by a minority of people that don't even belong here. But once word gets out of what happened, there will be a big change. The only drawback is nobody can know it was me. I'll have to be content with knowing myself that I did the right thing.
I headed into the caravan park. I saw just the man id been looking for, about 100 metres ahead in the distance. He seemed to be carrying crates or something. 'Hey, Steven.' 'What the fuck do you want', he replied. 'I understand we have our differences, but i was wondering if we could go for a quick walk, to maybe sort them out.. You see, i have a few things i need to tell you', I said. 'You better be fucking quick about it buddy'.
We headed along the beach. I wanted to stall a bit, until we got to an area where nobody could see. Perfect. 'So, why the fuck exactly have you dragged me out here?'. 'I know we have a lot of differences...me and you...even on a bigger scale, us town people and you. But why exactly do you hate us so much? Why do you people continue to come here, why do you people continue to terrorise us townsfolk, steal from our shops, even create a menacing atmosphere for tourists. Why?' 'You people have everything. Do you know what it's like to be looked down upon by society? To have 90% of people that haven't even spoken to you take a disliking to you based on an image that a small group of us project?', He told me. In truth, i agreed with a lot of the points he had made. But I wasn't prepared to leave myself be pushed over by a sweet talking traveller. 'it's time for things to change around here, Steven'. 'What the fuck do you mean by that?', he asked me sharply, with a slight hint of aggression in his voice.
He didn't even have time to react. I had the knife drawn out of my coat sleeve and the menacingly sharp blade into his stomach before he could even look up. I pulled the knife out sharply, and plunged it in to his neck. The killing hit. I had planned this for ages. Everything was going perfectly, just as i had planned. He crumbled to his knees, and stared up at me with a pained expression on his face. I just smirked to myself. I checked his pulse. Nothing. Definitely dead. I had never felt so exhilarated in my life. Now was the time i needed to act fast, though.
I slit open his hoodie and t shirt and pulled them off. I put them in a plastic bin bag and left them aside for the time being. I had picked this spot because of the grass dunes a few metres ahead. I dragged his surprisingly light body to the dunes. Or maybe he wasn't light, maybe my adrenaline was through the roof from the act i had just committed. I dragged him to the spot i had picked out days previously and retrieved the supplies i had hidden in a gorse bush, away from prying eyes. A bottle of white spirits, a roll of duct tape, bin bags and rope. The first step was to make him unrecognisable. I poured the white spirits on to his face, in to his mouth and nose, around his eyes. I flicked my lighter and ignited the chemicals. While the fire took care of that, i went and did the same to his bloody clothes. At this point i had to wait a bit for his body to cool down. I checked the time. 8:25. I was running as planned. I had a very small window of time to complete everything i needed to do, and make my alibi withstand. Once i had done that, i tied his arms and legs together with the length of rope, and pulled him into a bag. I had to use a few bags to completely cover him, but i tied them together with rope. I now had a decision to make. Roll him off the cliff several metres up, where he would hit the savagely sharp rocks below and possibly drift out with the tide, or hide his body and leave it decompose in the old army barracks behind me. I chose the latter.
I dragged his body in, along with all my supplies, and hid them in a corner. With the rest of my white spirits i burned my gloves, my hat, the rest of the rope and the duct tape. Job almost done. Nobody else had been around at the caravan park to see us leaving together, at least i was fairly sure of that. This was one of my weak spots though. I couldn't be fully sure if somebody saw me or didn't see me. There was no way of me knowing for sure, which meant i had to think of an alibi. That's where Greg came in, one of my peers that was also jumped a few nights ago. He was just as sick of those people as i was. He'd cover for me. I decided to walk the other way in to town anyway, the long way. From there i went to the bag i had hidden by a line of trees, and changed out of my bloody clothes. I asked Greg to vouch for the fact i was at his house at the time of the murder, if it came to questioning. My mother could also back this claim up, as i told her i was heading to my friends house.
Now was the waiting part. Waiting for news to break that Steven was missing. Waiting for news of the discovery of his mutilated body to be found. Waiting for news of suspects. Everything. But I'd just have to wait. I started to make my way home. No need to rush, just a leisurely stroll. I lit up another cigarette, with a back up lighter of course. My other lighter was thrown into the ocean. As i was making my way up the hill, i passed my friend Killian. 'What are you doing out this early?', he asked me. 'Went for a stroll out the beach buddy, that's it'. 'Fair enough bud, catch you later'. Yeah... A stroll. I made my way home. Breakfast time. Even teenage killers devoid of a conscience and remorse enjoy wheetos, right?
Fast forward about 24 hours. I was feeling quite nervous, which isn't normal for me. I'm usually the type to stay cool and collected in all situations, but the magnitude of the act i had committed had me on edge. I guess it was to be expected though. Who kills a man and goes on 100% normal? Not a lot of people, thats for sure. only now is there talks about a missing traveller boy in Youghal. To be completely honest, I'm surprised news hadn't broken earlier than now.
48 hours later. They've only notified the police now? Is this a regular occurrence in the travelling community, for a 16 year old boy to go missing out of the blue with absolutely no contact with anyone? Christ... Like the good citizen/nosy murderer i am, I volunteered to help out in the search party. Nothing too obvious, i was among hundreds of other's volunteering. We live in a relatively small town. Everybody knows everyone. I seem to be less on edge than i was, but i was feeling extremely panicky. I racked my brains, trying to think of any form of evidence I could have left. It's too late for that now, though.
72 hours later. Police are beginning to take the high possibility of foul play seriously now. Only about 50 hours too late, but I'm not gonna be the one to complain. The police only began to comb the beach/surrounding areas today. I think they were trying to hold that area off for as long as possible, considering how large it is.
80 hours later. Police found a few things at the beach, nothing of major concern. Or so i thought. They found a shoe on the waters edge, which obviously brought suspicion and the need for testing. But more importantly, they found my broken lighter at the bottom of the cliff. With my fingerprints on it. I'd used that lighter for months, I don't constantly walk around with latex gloves on. This was a relatively critical mistake id made... I hadn't thought of such a small thing.. They'd definitely swab the lighter for fingerprints and bring people in for questioning. Time for me to begin going over in my head, my alibi, the answers I'd have for all the typical police questions, and working on my ability to stay calm in the interview and not show any typical signs of a liar.
96 hours. Police began to bring people in for questioning. Mostly white males ages 18-40. You know, your typical killer demographic. The police also released a sketch of somebody 'seen in the area where Steven Hatcher was last seen'. They also said they were focusing on searching for his body. Also, police brought in 5 people for questioning based on the evidence they found in the beach area. I was one of those 5 people. They didn't tell me any details. They outlined small points. Asked me when I was out the beach. Why.. Who was i with.. The typical police questions. They told me there's a very small possibility so far that I could be the murderer. At this point i was beginning to have serious doubts about my carefulness at the crime scene, and i began replaying everything in my head, scouring my brain to think of anything i could have done that would expose me.
5 days since i murdered Steven Hatcher. 5 days later, whats left of the body is found in a room in the old army barracks, by an innocent volunteer. As disfigured, decomposed and mutilated as it was, there was no doubt in anyone's mind it was Steven. A crime of this nature was unheard of in a rural irish town like mine. After news broke of just how grisly the crime scene was, People were afraid to leave their houses. People stopped talking to their neighbours, and stayed in home for long periods of time. Travellers left town, and parents were refusing to send their children to school. Not the type of ruckus i was intending to create, but what can you do. I was brought in for questioning again, in relation to the lighter found near the newly discovered crime scene. I tried to keep my cool as they grilled me with questions, a lot more detailed this time. They definitely had reason to suspect me. It was hard not to crack under the overwhelming pressure of the whole thing. But I wouldn't have committed such a heinous crime without being prepared to accept the full consequences.
