Confessions of a Victim

His eyes watered as the female cop listen to him, looking at him sympathetically. "I used to hurt him, call him names. He was always a weak little shit." The cop shuffled uncomfortably at that.

"What sort of thing or things did you used to do to him, Brody?" she asked softly.

"You know, like, typical stuff, I guess. Push him over, shoulder bashed him, knocked his books out of the dweebs hands and kicked him over when he bent down to pick them up. I shoved him in his locker, once. Poor Patrick was in there until the next morning."

"He had been in there all night?" The cop seemed to find that reprehensible.

Brody seemed distracted, fearful. "I'm sorry, what did you say your name was again?"

"Judy. Officer Judy, homicide."





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