PRACTICAL JOKE

Practical Joke is written by Ridgley Warfield. All rights to this fan fiction belong to me. This plot is completely fiction, thought up in my own mind, and is in no way true. However, enjoy.

It was only a practical joke. We never meant for something like this to happen and yet, here I am staring at my son through the plexi-glass window, metal restraints binding my wrist together, promising him that I’ll be home soon.

I can remember that night so clearly. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Richie and I just wanted to give Dean a good scare and now we’re being charged with manslaughter. I remember Richie was driving with Dean in the back seat. He was going too fast and we lost control. I could see the other car coming at us, but all I could do was watch as we killed the man, woman and child… A child. A child not any older than my own son. How can I live with myself? How can I look at Dakota and not see that little boy? Why do I hate Richie when I was just as much at fault?

I glance up to see my mother walk up behind my son. Her eyes are cold and hard and she doesn’t even acknowledge me. Before I can say goodbye, my son is gone and somehow I know I will never see him again.

It was only a practical joke, and now three people are dead and Richie and I are in jail. I probably look like the typical prisoner with my long blonde hair that hasn’t been washed since we were put in here. I’m built a little bigger than Richie so I haven’t been faced with too many problems, but I know he’s getting it pretty rough. We face life in prison for our “joke” but somehow, that’s not enough in my opinion.

It’s degrading to be in prison; to have armed guards escort you everywhere. No freedom, no privacy, nothing that is “yours”. Only a cold, empty cell and the horrifying thoughts of what sin you committed. I miss my son, my home… I wonder if that family had been on their way home. I wonder what kind of life they had, what kind of future was in store for that boy. He even looked like Dakota, with his reddish-brown hair and blue eyes. I bet that boy and mine could have been good friends.

It was only a practical joke, but is it really a joke when you try to scare someone? What possessed us to think that would be funny? How could I have been so inconsiderate? I ask these things now and wonder why they never occurred before.

I realize how easily that family could have been my own. We could have been in that car, on our way home or to a movie or anywhere, and things could have been over for us in the blink of an eye.

It was only a practical joke, but no one is laughing.