Drowning on Quiet Lane

The nosy neighbors and the artificial grass were only matched by the psychopathic boy of Quiet Lane.

My name is Judy Elle Francis, I am twelve years old, and I live across the street from the Hansons on Quiet Lane.

I saw the father pull up in a yellow SUV from my second story window. I waved and he smiled politely.

I watched as his two kids got out of the car. A boy around my age, with slick, greasy black hair. Finally, someone to play with! Someone who is not my math teacher! An older girl, around fourteen or fifteen got out next. She held her phone to the sky.

“Damn, no bars!” the girl said. “I want to die!” she moaned.

“This will be fun,” the dad said. “It’s a new adventure!”

“Don’t adventures usually have internet?”

“No,” the dad said, quickly.

I ran downstairs past my parents, my dad, reading the town newspaper, and my mom, making her famous overcooked eggs.

I ran across the street and knocked on their door.

The dad answered it. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“My name’s Judy, I live across the street. I wanted to welcome you and your family!”

The teenage girl moaned. “We don’t want whatever you’re selling! Dad, tell the tiny saleswoman to go away!”

“How nice of you,” the dad said.

I caught the boy staring at me, hiding behind his dad.

It wasn’t staring like he was infatuated with me, did he want to hurt me?

“Here’s my son,” the dad said. “He’s around your age, I guess. Have fun!”

This caught me off-guard. They were an odd family.

It was a Saturday, and it would be rude to decline. I invited him to the creek, and just like that we were off.

Just like that, my story ended and the story of a sociopathic boy began.

--2--

My name is David. I am a boy of twelve years of age, and this is my story. The girl invited me to the creek. The fishes were so beautiful. I wanted Judy to be a fish. I grinned as she looked up at me, she was smiling. She was so happy. I wanted to be happy. Why couldn’t I be happy? Then, it hit me. She was stealing my happiness. Why wouldn’t she let me be happy? Why did she take me away? Is this what kids do?

Slowly, I took off my oversized boots and put on my oversized gardening gloves. I creeped over to her. She was jumping and clapping her hands trying to catch jumping frogs.

I did what I had to. I did what I felt like. I placed my hand over her face and dunked her in the water. Her arms and legs flapped around like a fish out of water. This amused me. At last, an ounce of happiness. She stopped struggling. She went quiet and flowed down the stream.

I felt nothing.

Why did I feel nothing? Were more people stealing my happiness?

--3--

The next day at school, hundreds of kids were laughing and smiling. Happiness I’d never felt in my whole life. They were stealing it! Of course! It all made sense. The nothingness I felt was only matched by the happiness of others.

I knew what I had to do. I made friends. I became quite popular. And I drowned all of them. I would keep drowning them until I felt something, anything.

--4--

My name is Jack Hanson. I am the father of David.

At last, I could sleep after many sleepless nights trying to get over my dead wife. I woke up in a cold sweat. The nightmares just kept coming. What? I never said the sleep was peaceful.

I heard the sink faucet dripping. I put on my robe and walked down the wooden staircase and walked into the kitchen. The kitchen was wooden with a few metal components for the sink.

The leaking sink.

I turned the knob and the faucet stopped dripping for a few seconds. The sink spewed water out, despite the knob being turned. There must be something wrong with the pipes, I thought. I checked the cabinet under the sink only, a leaking sink was the least of my problems.

Five pale corpses, soaking wet, dressed in robes, nude underneath by the looks of it, were crouched under my sink. Many of which had massive head wounds. I’d read about the town serial killer who drowned his victims… Only, they weren’t dead. Their eyes were wide open, shining in the moonlight. They made no noise. They simply turned their heads.

I backed away. I dialed 9-11 on my flip phone, but I got a dial tone. Damn bars! I knew I should’ve gotten Verizon over AT&T.

I ran to the shed. There was an emergency satellite phone I could use. Only, what would I tell them? “Hi, I’m hallucinating dead bodies!” However, there was no doubt they were corpses. Maybe I was only fabricating their lifelike qualities due to my dead wife.

I got to the shed, there was no light, but I saw the phone on a shelf as the moonlight shined. I jumped in and dialed 9, but I could not finish. I could not finish, because the door shut, and the light flickered on. About ten bloody corpses dressed in bathrobes consisting of both children and adults surrounded me.

--5--

My name is Elle and the next morning, I found the police in my backyard, surrounding the shed. I climbed out of my window to check it out.

My dad lied on the shed floor, soaked and dead. I looked at my brother who was behind me. He was smiling!

--6--

My name is David Hanson and I don’t know why I did what I did, but I’m not ashamed. Why not? To quote my late father, “It’s a new adventure.”