The Inmate

by Freida McFadden

So when Shane took me out into the woods to make that snowman, I noticed that all the trees had a lot of icicles. They looked really heavy and pointy. Shane was a lot bigger than me, so I figured if I wanted to protect my mom, this was my only chance. I waited until Shane was standing under one of the branches. I reached up and shook the branches, and all the ice fell on him. It was a lot of snow and ice. It was enough to make him fall down. I walked over to see if it had knocked him out, like in Little League last year when Jaden threw that ball at Oliver’s head (accidentally). But it didn’t knock Shane out. He was on the floor, rubbing his head, but he was still fine. That’s when I saw the icicle on the ground. It was huge—about the same size as the bat in Little League, where I’m the best hitter on the whole team. So I picked it up with my gloved hands and I swung it—the way Tim showed me when we practiced in the fall. And I swung it again. And again. And again. I thought it might break, but the ice was pretty strong. It didn’t break. It held together really well. The first time the icicle hit Shane’s head, he shouted. But not the second time. Or the third. Eventually, Shane stopped moving at all. I can’t remember how many times it took before that happened. When I do something bad, Mom always tells me to say I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry I hit Shane in the head with that icicle. I had to do it. Tim said he was dangerous and that he was going to hurt my mom. And I could ...