Life is like one big murder mystery. You search for the clues, yet can never succeed to find them. When you do- you don't know what to do, to tell someone, or to keep it to yourself… My name is Sodapop Curtis, I had a sister whose name was Melody. I came home late from work one night, my mind to set me free… When I stepped through the door, there was my sister, covered in blood, jaw wide open, eyes with old tears. My baby sister lays dead on the floor right under my nose…
"Is there anyone you know of that didn't like Melody?" asked Patrick Jane.
I looked him straight in the eyes, "My best friend Steve never liked her, she said something a few years ago, and he said she'd regret it by her thirteenth birthday…But, why would he kill her? He's not that sort of guy- he doesn't like most people, yes, but he'd never kill anyone…I think," I replied.
He looked up and over his shoulder to agent Lisbein. She shook her head. "Where is he right now?" he asked me.
"Right now? How should I know? Probally the arcade, or eating cake and watching Mickey Mouse with Two-Bit."
They left the room and I followed- because he told me too- and we ended up at his house, but luckily no Two-Bit. "Is there a Steve Randle in the building?" he shouted pulling up his gun.
Steve came in the room- he was surprised and angered. I was more so- blood stains on his shirt. My sister's blood…