The Problem with Lover’s Lookout – Mickey Collins

Your honor, the problem with lover’s lookout isn’t that I’m not ever invited. I don’t even have a problem with my schoolmates going up there to makeout or whatever they do up there. The problem is that the bodies of the would-be lovers were never found.

There’s a monster roaming lover’s lookout.

I know this because I’ve seen it happen. I was at the top of the hill, waiting for my date to show. Chad and Kimberly drove up in Chad’s new Chevy. I panicked and jumped into the nearby bushes. That’s why you found footprints matching mine. I didn’t want to ruin their date, so I hid and waited.

Anyways, I had to keep an eye on Chad and Kimberly to protect them. That’s all. Even when things started getting a little PG-13, I watched so that if a monster did show up I would be ready to swoop in. But a monster didn’t show up, and then things got R-rated. I’ll be the first to admit that I had a natural teenage boy reaction to what I was privy to, and yet I still remained vigilant. I finished my business before they finished theirs, and I began to feel a bit of relief that a monster had not shown up. Perhaps they were safe for the night. It’s one of my theories that the monster only hunts during a full moon, and that night it was waxing, but not yet full.

Chad’s Chevy started up and they went back down the hill. It was getting late, and I knew my stepdad would beat me with his belt if I was any later than I already was, so I started back soon after them on my bike. When I got to the bottom of the hill, I saw that the Chevy had crashed into a tree. Chad and Kimberly weren’t in the car, but the car doors were open and it looked like something had crawled out, or had been dragged out, off the side of the road. I followed the trail to a freshly dug grave. Using the nearby shovel, I uncovered the grave only to find Chad and poor sweet Kimberly entwined within. I reburied them, as was right to do. It made me think, too, that this monster must have some humanity in him, if he took the time to bury them. I took my time to hide my tracks leading to the grave, in order to give them the privacy they deserved.

You must think it awfully suspicious I didn’t bike to the police station right then and there. Well, seeing as I was the only witness to this crime and, considering my involvement with the evidence, I knew I would be an immediate suspect. I would have to catch this monster alive and bring him in before I could explain the whole story.

The next day, the police found the crashed car. Faulty brakes they said. But they couldn’t find Chad and Kimberly. Only I, and the monster, knew where they were. I took it upon myself to go to school and act normal. This was a brave act on its own. I had to make sure no one else thought of going up to lover’s lookout again. But the rumor spread that Chad and Kimberly had eloped after their tryst upon lover’s lookout, which only added to the mystique surrounding it. I knew more couples would be going there, and more couples would be killed.

After my stepdad fell asleep on the couch, I once again biked over to lover’s lookout. This time I waited at the bottom of the hill, hoping to stop anyone before they got to the top. Unfortunately it was too dark for them to see me on the side of the road. I biked up the steep hill to begin my vigil over them. I would be their guardian angel. 

I got to the top, tired and sweaty, and found one car still there. The windows were fogged up, it was a cold night, I could see my breath even, that’s how I knew I was winded. I knocked on the window.

“What the hell?” I heard John say from inside. I heard some shuffling sounds and could see two silhouettes when the car’s ceiling light clicked on. Maybe they thought I was a cop, for they rolled down the window. “What the hell do you want?” John said when they saw me. “Go away, pervert!” The other person was silent, I didn’t even get a good look at them, I was so nervous.

I didn’t say anything to John, which I deeply regret. I was still recovering from the bike up the hill. I went away as asked. But I felt angry. I was only trying to help and they turned me away like that. I thought about how they didn’t realize how easy it would be to cut the brakes as the monster had cut Chad’s. It would only take an instant of a lapse in a watch, which is what must have happened the night before.

The monster had to have gotten to their brakes before I even got there, for it was a repeat of the previous night when I biked down the hill again, and found John’s car crashed into a light pole. Although this crash was farther than the Chevy, I found another fresh grave next to Chad and Kimberly’s. The monster would have had to carry John and Evan a good hundred yards or so. Almost like a football player, I remember thinking. But I stopped myself. I couldn’t start suspecting my fellow students. There was no way that any one at our school could have done this. This was the work of a monster, I reminded myself.

On the third night, I decided to play the role of bait. I would need a car and a date of course to complete the illusion, and for that I enlisted the help of my gorgeous classmate: she was petite, blonde, and I knew she would be irresistible to the monster. She didn’t want to go along with my plan at first. I could tell she was scared just talking to me about it. She only agreed after I promised her $100 to help me out. That’s how desperate I was, to get this monster.

So anyway, now that we were in a car, it was easy to get up the hill early. There were other cars around when we first parked, but I didn’t risk knocking on their doors to warn them. I didn’t want to scare the monster away. In order to be bait, I had to act like it. We had to go through all the motions.

I had snuck a six-pack from the fridge, and offered one to my classmate. She happily accepted. I respectfully declined any beer. I needed to keep my senses sharp. She said something about how she wanted this night to be over as soon as possible. I concurred. The sooner this monster was finished, the better. At one point I noticed that the rest of the cars were gone. It was just us now. The trap was almost set. I remembered how John’s windows were fogged up. Perhaps that had something to do with the monster’s attacks.

I wondered aloud how we would fog up the windows. She, on her third or fourth beer, made some lewd suggestions. I blushed. But she’s the one who started it, not me. Despite what she may say her story is now. I won’t go into any details, I am still a gentleman, but we were stopped mid-act by a police officer knocking on the door. The officer got the wrong idea, compounded by our differing takes on what was going on. But she was drunk.

Things just got more convoluted and confused from then on. Evidence was twisted around against me, like the pocket knife I always carry around being the “perfect” tool to use for cutting brakes, or that there was already a third grave dug and the dirt under my nails (I happen to garden at home).

The fact of the matter is, you can convict me Your Honor, but you won’t stop the monster.

Mickey rights wrongs. Mickey wrongs rites. Mickey writes words, sometimes wrong words but he tries to get it write.

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