Turning the rusted, regal doorknob, Kit walked into his childhood home and stepped in. Pushing back some overwhelmingly mixed feelings he had about being there, Kit focused on the task at hand: finding the polaroid. As he jogged up the stairs and into his room, puffs of dust shot up, leaving a light trail of footprints.
For the first time in his life, Kit was glad his mother was a sentimental hoarder. He plowed through a box labeled "OLD BACKPACKS." When Kit finally found the tattered old bag, he reached into the concealed zipper, hoping the picture was still there.
After the rainy encounter with Mr. Evans, Kit had not once remembered to give the polaroid back or even been curious enough to examine it. Now, six years later, he found himself staring at a polaroid that was stuck in the past -its edges were brown yet the image remained as undeveloped as it was the day Kit first picked it up. In what he knew was a futile attempt, Kit wiped the little square on his jeans, hoping it was just a film of dust. All he could see were shadowy figures, one seeming to hold -or push- the other. He held it up to the light, but there were lots of dark speckles distorting the image.
Could they be raindrops? What if this was taken the very day I bumped into him?
After an hour of contemplation, Kit finally decided to hand it over to the police. Before he got there, however, he met Lamar.
“What you doin’ out so late, kiddo?”
“I-I think I might have something connected to Mr. Evans.”
As sudden as lightning, Lamar’s tone shifted, “You have proof? What is it? Where did you find it?”
Frazzled by the hammering, Kit hesitantly took half a step back. “Its several years old, it's just a polaroid he’d dropped.”
“Oh, and you suddenly decided to return a dead man’s things, huh? That’s not what I think, son, it’s what they’re gonna say in there. No one will take you seriously, especially those inexperienced idiots. You know what? Let me see it, maybe I can get somethin’ done’.”
Suddenly not wanting anything to do with the polaroid, Kit thrust out the picture, hand shaking violently. Darkness spread through the sky, and with it, Kit’s weariness. Kit turned and left, hoping this was the end of it.
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