Thank you for shopping at Seven Twelve, I handed the bag with the groceries and the change back to the old man in front of me.
The old man nodded lightly and walked out. The neon lights of the minimarket hummed softly above me. The clock on the wall read 22:57.
I stood behind the cashier counter, counting the change automatically. Almost midnight, and as usual, the store was empty. The cold drinks shelves stood silent, the glass door reflected my own shadow—tired face with empty eyes.
"Senior, it's shift change time."
I lifted my head. A man was standing there, wearing the same Seven Twelve uniform as me. His face still looked awkward, like someone who hadn't fully gotten used to being here.
"Oh. Yeah," I replied shortly.
He was the new employee. Started working here three months ago. We never really talked—and I had no intention to start.
I handed over the cash drawer, signed the shift change list, and grabbed my jacket.
"Senior, be careful on your way," he said politely.
I nodded. Didn't reply.
Outside, the night air pierced my skin. I walked along the riverside path—a shortcut home. The streetlights were dim, the water flowing quietly, and the cold wind carried a damp scent.
That's when I saw it.
Something sticking out of the water.
At first, I thought it was a branch. Or some big trash. Small ripples radiating outward, catching my attention for a fleeting second.
But when I focused my eyes, I saw a human hand.
I froze. My heart started pounding. I stared for a few seconds, then rubbed my eyes.
Maybe I was tired. Maybe it was just an illusion.
I glanced at it again.
No. It was really someone drowning.
My body went stiff.
I knew what I should do. Yell. But since there was no one around, I'd have to jump in to save them.
But my mind moved faster than my conscience.
It's late. The water must be cold.I can't swim well.Lifting an adult from the water isn't easy.If I go in, I might drown too.
And most importantly—
I don't want to get involved.
I looked away.
My feet walked on.
Without looking back, I went home.
That night, I slept like usual.
No dreams. No dramatic guilt. Just exhaustion sinking me into darkness.
But the next morning—
BRAK! BRAK! BRAK!
Loud knocking shook my front door.
I woke up gasping. Before I could get up, the sound turned into a bang. The door was forced open.
Someone grabbed my arm roughly, dragging me off the bed.
"What—?!"
My eyes spun, vision blurred. Several men were standing around me. They wore neat clothes, dark vests, and carried weapons.
My hands were handcuffed.
"The target has been secured," someone said into a walkie-talkie.
"What's going on…?" I asked, dazed.
"Don't resist. Come with us," said a man coldly, pulling me to my feet.
I almost stumbled as they dragged me out of the room.
I caught a glimpse of my family in the living room.
Mom covered her mouth. Dad froze in place. Their eyes full of shock and sorrow.
I couldn't say anything.
I was taken outside.
As my awareness returned, panic hit.
"Wait! What are you doing? Why are you arresting me?!"
I struggled.
"You're suspected of murder," said a police officer, expression cold, before shoving me into a car.
"Murder? What are you talking about?! You've got the wrong person!"
The door slammed shut, and the car started moving somewhere.
I tried talking to the other cops in the car, but none of them answered.
The room was cold.
One table. One chair. Walls with large glass—I knew it was one-way glass.
In front of me, a screen lit up.
CCTV footage.
I saw myself walking along the riverside. No one else was there.
"You were the only one passing this area for several hours," said the officer across the table. "That's why we suspect you as the serial killer who's been active for the past few years."
"That makes no sense," I protested. "What about other cameras? What about a few minutes earlier?"
He pressed the remote.
The footage changed.
A few minutes before I passed—a woman suddenly thrown off the bridge. And a smaller screen showed footage from a different location, but there was nothing, just empty scenery, no one else.
"How can you be sure I'm the culprit?" I asked. "What if she committed suicide?"
"There are signs of violence on the victim. This was a planned murder," he replied. "And you were the only person on site after it happened."
"There were others! Minimarket customers, my junior at work—they also passed by!"
The officer stared at me for a long time.
"That's true, but they passed before the incident. We'll also investigate your workplace and interrogate the person involved,"
Those words hit me harder than a slap.
Then I realized something.
All the evidence… pointed to me too perfectly.
Someone planned this.
Someone skilled—enough to even fool the police.
I fought back in every way I could.
But they pressed deeper.
"You're a loner. Withdrawn. Don't care about others, not even your family," said the officer. "Years ago, you had run-ins with authorities. The murder pattern also shows the culprit likes to toy with us."
I remembered the past.
The illegal import business I ran for 2 years because I didn't know the legal rules. At that time, I used my parents' identity for imports, first only selling fake brand shoes at double price, then once I gathered enough capital, I expanded, making around $9,000 per month and kept growing.
But one day authorities came and seized all my goods. I had submitted the required documents, but none of my stuff was returned. Angry, I caused a scene, ended up fighting with several authorities.
I was only 17 back then.
"Looks like you don't want to argue anymore," said the officer. "Just confess in court. Your sentence could be reduced."
I stayed silent, realizing I was truly trapped in this situation.
I realized my family's situation, and unfortunately, we couldn't afford a lawyer. Plus, my family wasn't kind enought to take loans to hire a lawyer for their child.