mistakes were made in the writing of this recollection

Now, here’s the thing.

I’ve robbed a bank.

Well, not actually. See…

I was outside of the bank when it was robbed, on a corner of the street that was otherwise empty. The one robber happened to have the same hoodie as me. I was about to comment on this when a loud explosion sounded from around the corner as he turned toward me. He was shielding his head.

Without breaking a sweat, he suddenly thrust a large sack into my chest. Then he ran right by me. Right by. So, because I wore a gray Dodgers World Series hoodie and because I was standing on that corner, waiting for a green light…

I was now the robber, at least, in the eyes of the people.

Fantastic luck, am I right?

So, I dropped the bag and ran. But the cops saw me, and did not see the real robber. I dove into a nearby alley, where there were signs that the robber had climbed out. So I followed in his footsteps. I threw my hoodie into the mud(goodbye, sixty-dollar hoodie…)and ran home.

Now, here’s the thing. I don’t know if you know this, you probably do, unless you’re young or an idiot, that when a cop chases after you, wherever you are, you stop. I did not stop.

So yes, I am technically a criminal, but I did not do anything worthy of being shot in the back. Understood? Good.

I opened the door of my house and explained in depth to my parents that I was not the criminal, but as he had been wearing my hoodie, and I hadn’t seen his face, and the cops hadn’t seen him as well when they rounded the corner, I couldn’t prove my innocence.

But as the only implication that it was me was that I’d been wearing the same hoodie and there’d been a bag of money on the ground, and considering I had been wearing gloves, there was actually no definitive proof against me either.

Except… when was he first in the bank?

I had an alibi. I had been on a date from 1:37 to 4:12. He had left at 4:18, when I’d been walking home. So, if it took six minutes to walk from the theater to the bank, unless he had gone in after 4:12, I was safe.

But I called my girlfriend just to make sure. Multiple times. Like, seven. Or was it eight?

“For the last time, Cameron, we left at 4:12! You can trust me! You don’t need to call every five minutes,” she yelled on the last call.

“...I’m sorry. Bye.” I hung up the phone. I was hopeful, sure, but… One day, it came on the news that I was still being searched for, and that anyone who had information should dial 911. By now, I’d stayed at a different house every day in order to build up a case in my own defense. I was back at my parents house again that day, September 5th.

I’d so far stayed there, as well as an abandoned house three blocks down, my best friend’s house, my girlfriend’s house, two separate hotels, a treehouse I built in the woods, without a permit(my only other ‘criminal’ action) and finally, in the back of our local-owned coney restaurant. That one was where I got the best food, as you could probably imagine by the fact that it’s… well, a restaurant. I mean, what else can you say, besides ‘it’s a restaurant’?

Anyways, I had been building up a pretty good court case, until the robber appeared on the news, which said that he had robbed and exploded a gas station.

I did not have an alibi for this one. Well, except for the fact that my hoodie was still buried in the mud down that alleyway.

But I couldn’t prove that it was from that day. But again, there was also the fact that there wasn’t a way to prove that it had been me either.

All I had to do was just go home. Yes, and call people. Make sure that I told the coney place owner that next time I came, I’d pay double since he gave me my usual for free.

So I went home. I had a case built up. I had confidence that I wasn’t really a suspect. But when I got there, the cops were there. I walked right in anyways.

“Um, hello, officers. Is something wrong?” I asked.

“No, not at all. But we went to the home of a certain young lady who said concretely that you did not commit any crime. Wanted to check it out. Did you have any involvement in either of the robberies that have occurred here in the last couple weeks?”

“A little,” I replied to the man. “In the first one.”

“What is your involvement? Were you and your parents in the bank, or…?”

I took a deep breath, and launched in.

“I was going home from a date with the girl you interviewed, and I was standing on the sidewalk on the corner of the bank, waiting for the lights to turn green so I could cross, even though there were no cars. Anyways, I saw a guy turning the corner, running, with a sack over his shoulder, wearing the same hoodie. Then I heard a gunshot, and while I was distracted, the robber threw the money at me, which knocked me over, and ran into an alley. I realized you’d probably shoot me and went into the same alley. I think he went east when I went west, because his foot trail stopped when I turned.”

“How do we know you aren’t lying?” asked one of the cops.

“Because, when did the robber enter the building?”

“3:52.”

“Well, then, I have my movie ticket stub from my date right here. This movie starts at 2:00 and runs for two hours, four minutes. It would have to have been at least 4:04 when I left, and any of the theater concession workers could tell you I’d been there.”

The policemen pondered over this for a moment, then without a warning, said “Thank you for your time” and walked right out of the house.