Archive Story - Just taking a man at his word.

Yes I know this is not much of an archive story it was only last week. And I know I don’t usually repost. But I’m doing a writing course at the moment and one task was to take a story and edit it. So here is the revised version and I’ve added video just for you. 



I am writing this from a safe place, a place I hope the police won’t find me. Right now I’m the main suspect in the biggest murder case to grip America for weeks. Right now there are hundreds of police looking for me, desperate to be the hero, the one who finds me, to appear on the news as the cop who caught the RnB star R. Kelly’s murderer. I know what you are thinking, how on earth did I, a simple maths teacher from London manage to murder R. Kelly and why the hell would I want to? Well let me tell you my story and then I think you’ll agree that although I did indeed cause the death of Mr Kelly, I can in no way be held accountable for the tragic circumstances that led to his sad demise.

It all started about 8 hours ago when I found myself in a lift in a plush Las Vegas hotel with the one of the most influential R and B artists of the last 25 years. I didn’t have a clue who he was but I guessed from his entourage he was someone famous. Anyway I nodded my hello as I entered the lift and then minded my own business but R. obviously felt chatty. He asked me where I was from and when I said the UK he went gaga over my cute British accent. He absolutely insisted I went up to his penthouse suite for drinks.

So there I was standing on the balcony enjoying bright lights of the ultimate party city with the darkness of the steaming desert beyond. I had champagne in my hand and while this handsome man who I vaguely remembered had a big hit in the mid 1990’s, tried to seduce me.  He seemed a pleasant enough bloke and was only too keen to give me a recital of his big hit when I asked him about it. He put his heart and soul into it, hoping to impress me. He belted out the lyrics with gusto. 

I used to think that I could not go on

And life was nothing but an awful song

But now I know the meaning of true love

I'm leaning on the everlasting arms

If I can see it, then I can do it

If I just believe it, there's nothing to it

[Chorus:]

I believe I can fly

I believe I can touch the sky

I think about it every night and day

Spread my wings and fly away

He sang it to so powerfully, with so much emotion, so much belief that when he hit the chorus I was completely enchanted by his voice. I trusted him, I had faith in him, he seemed genuine, I guess I was brainwashed. I wanted to help him So... I gave him a gentle nudge.

R. Kelly was wrong, R. Kelly couldn’t fly, R. Kelly couldn’t touch the sky, but R.Kelly could fall, boy could he fall, he could pick up speed, he could hit the ground with a bump. His entourage went mad and, in the ensuing panic I managed to calmly walk away as if I’d had nothing to do with it. The realisation of what I had done was slowly beginning to dawn on me. I cursed my own naivety. How stupid had I been being taken in by a trickster and a charlatan like him? Of course he couldn’t fly, none of us could, we’re not built to fly. So why did he keep going on about it? You know if people say things enough times with enough conviction then others will believe them.

So I did kill R. Kelly, but murder? No, I was just a little too trusting for my own good and taking a man at his word.