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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1733555-Murder-on-the-13th-Street
by Jesse
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Crime/Gangster · #1733555
A cruel story that will be continued..
Walking on the street, alone, at 2 o’clock in the morning, on the 13th of November, I realized what I was doing and why I was doing that.. During the party at which I was, having fun, changing ideas with people I just met, suddenly a friend of mine stepped out of the house with a knife in his hand shouting that he will kill somebody. We thought it was a joke, and we started to laugh, but he just cut his veins and jumped into the pool, going under like a stone.. We all knew he couldn’t swim.. Someone jumped for him in the next second, but it was too late.. He was gone.. I ran away, I just couldn’t think more of the image already glued in my mind like a sticker on a wall..

So I was still walking to nowhere when the image came back like a flash.. I saw a friend of mine committing suicide right in front of me! Tears started to show in my eyes, cold, falling on the street.. And then, my mind started to function.. I needed to sleep, cause the next day would be very hard, the funeral and all of the things I had to explain to my parents about the incident.. So I rushed on the next street to reach my home.

I could already see it, in the dim light of the moon, my 2 floors house, masked by some little trees that my mother loved very much. I needed protection after this sentimental mess inside me, so I started to run and got inside before seeing the windows or the porch..

But what I saw inside made my blood freeze in my veins and left me breathless. There were some tracks on the floor, colored red, seemed like blood. I prayed it was just an error and that all was good, but I was wrong..

I started to follow the red line into the kitchen, where I found from where it was: my mothers legs coming out from under the table. She was covered in blood, with a scratch on one hand saying: “go into your room!” and her eyes looking right at me, scared, like she was crying for help from me.. I was horrified in that moment, but too shocked to make any noise..

Got out of the kitchen and went upstairs to my room, as the message said.. There, my father and my dog were laying on my bed, motionless.. A hatchet was in my fathers chest and a knife next to the dog without his head.. The next message was on the floor of my room, written in blood: “go downstairs, outside the house”.

Forcing myself not to run on the stairs, and still without the power to scream or cry, under the shock, I went downstairs, outside, and with a flashlight from the basket next to the door, I started to search what he wanted me to see.. And then, the flash came back.. My friend, dieing in the pool, and now, my parents murdered in cold blood in our own house.. I realized I was useless if that happened.. And then I saw what the killer wanted to finish with.. The last message, written also in blood, and as a full stop was my dogs head: “welcome to hell! no reason.”.

Now all the floor was shaking under my legs, the image started to blur and I felt like falling into a dark hole without ending, then I reached the ground.. Feeling my body heavy, with less power than ever, I was standing on my feet again, very dizzy,  trying to guess and praying that all of this was a dream.. But I saw again the letters on the floor and felt like dieing..

At that moment I knew I will lose my mind or my self control in a few seconds, so I left the house and went into the park not far away from the massacre place.. There, standing on the grass, in my sadness, looking in vain, trying to arrange my thoughts and to focus on the finding of the possible killer, I saw how damaged I was after this.. My tears were falling without stopping and my soul was bleeding.. But I had to find clues that will get me to the murderer..



                                       To be continued..



© Copyright 2010 Jesse (jessewicca at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1733555-Murder-on-the-13th-Street