1
UNSOLVED MYSTERIES were common, and missing people were even more common. It had started with small disappearances of insignificant individuals, but soon enough, it became the wealthier and influentials. Many cases had been claimed along suicide, even when it was clear it had been a clean murder that left nothing but the reminder there would be more crimes committed in the upcoming future. It was one of the many reasons why families had more security around and refused anyone to leave after dark.
They had named the murderer, the executioner. With all the chaos that followed along, I could not help but think it would be impossible for a single person to cause such destruction. It happened to make me wonder if the name was only a coverup for the cases that could not be solved.
Years reigned on, blood-stained walls, and a figure without a face. No one had once seen this the killer, as if they were never truly there to begin with. Or, it may have been the fact that those who found themselves closer to discovering the truth, vanished suddenly, and none could ever find the bodies.
Flipping the newspaper over, I scanned the article, widening my eyes as I realized another victim was found last night, a fellow classmate that I briefly talked to once or twice, Carrissa Myers; a beautiful girl with vibrant blue hair, piercings lodged in her nose and lips. She was kind to everyone, and everyone equally loved her. It seemed unusual for someone with no wrongdoings to be handled that way. Nevertheless, this was the second body this week, and it was rather frightening to grasp the understanding that I was living amongst the executioner.
“Put that nonsense down, Amanda,” my mother called from the kitchen, humming Italian tunes beneath her breath. “Do not get caught up with those things,” she warned. ”Pericoloso things.”
Obliging to her wishes, I folded the newspaper, setting it down onto the glass coffee table as my toes curled at the cold breeze that ran down my arms and legs. “Yes, ma.” I sighed, wrapping the fluffy grey blanket that brought back the warmth that had escaped. “It has been years since it began, when do you think they will uncover the truth?” I murmured softly, taking a seat on one of the bar chairs, holding the newly brewed cup of coffee close to my lips as I inhaled the sweetening smell.
“Enough of that,” she answered, frowning as she brushed the comment away. “Try to stay in today, it is supposed to snow severely.”
Closing my eyes, I was beyond joyful that it was still only a Saturday, but one of the days where exams began to mound. “It is not like I have that many friends to go out with,” I replied in a joking manner, knowing my comment had no humor within.
Ma gently laughed, and I wished she did so more often. Though, it was rare enough to see her at home. Ma and Pa, they tended to disappear for long periods of times, which the majority of the time, left me home alone. Moreover, whenever they left, I had a majority of security guards around the house for my safety. In a way, it made the house exceedingly less quiet and like a home.
Frequently, I wondered if they thought about me during the trips, thought about bringing me along with them. The security had me feeling safe, but the safest place that I genuinely felt was with them. They brought the warmth that as a child I cherished, until one day, there was not any left. “Will you ever bring me along with you?” I asked, feeling the question linger on my tongue, preconceived about the answer that would follow.
“You are still too young, besides, you need to focus on your studies,” Ma pointed out, “Once you finish school, we will think about it.”
I scoffed weakly, “It is the exact response I get each time,” I remarked. “You both treat me as if I am merely a child, and frankly, I am feeling like you are hiding something from me.”
She adjusted her hair, leaning over the table as her eyes softened, “Soon, my dear, soon.”
With an agitated breath, “If you need me, I will be in the living room, continuing my reading of the articles.”
“FOLLOWING EARLY morning, it seemed that another murder has been attempted. The witness, Raina Dovis, managed to escape and is willing to speak to us about the identity.
To say, I was surprised that Raina had agreed to go on national television to discuss her experience. It was perplexing to see the aftermath as she explained the events that led up to where she was currently. “I could not see the face clearly, for she had a thick mask over, however, I am aware she is a female with brown hair. When I escaped, I managed to wound her right arm.”
As the interview resumed, a loud knock echoed the door, suspecting that it was Karla, one out of the two close friends that I had. Waddling my way towards the front door, I cuddled towards the blanket, cracking the door slightly as the wind burst through, bringing shivers down my spine. “Karla,” I exclaimed, my lips curled upwards, widening into a grin.
Once I let her in, she bounced in a spot, “I was starting to think that you were going to leave me outside,” she sassed, her cheeks rosy from the cold as she dusted off the excess snow that layered on her sable black wool toque. Unwrapping herself from multiple layers, she was left in a plain grey tee, but what I noticed first was the fresh marks on her right arm, identical to the description Raina explained. Following the scratches, her arms were lined with dark purple bruises which looked they had recently been inflicted upon.
“What happened to your inner wrist?” I questioned, worried. I had no doubts, Karla could hardly kill a spider, let alone another person. “Did Emmanuel return again?”
She gave me a knowingly look, her eyes begging me to drop it. Emmanuel was her stepfather, who lashed out unsystematically without a reason, it was him suffering from explosive disorder. It caused him to act irrationally with outbursts that generally led to broken furniture and bruises. “It was by accident, I know he did not mean it.” she defended poorly, “He is trying to regularly take his medications, but when I remind him, he takes my tone in the wrong way.”
I exhaled, rubbing my temples, thinking of ways that I could possibly help her without having the authorities involved. I could not find it in me to call the number, to save her from this pain. Her stepfather was the only family she had left, and if I did what I needed to do, I was afraid that she would grow to hate me, seeing as I would have taken her away from her only man she considered a fatherly figure.
Karla had a kind stepfather, despite what he suffered from. When he took his medications and attended regular therapy, it was when he was at his high. At those times, whenever I was over, he became somewhat of a father figure, taking place of the one I hardly spoke to.
“I promised him that I would always support him, Amanda,” Karla rubbed her arms, “A few bruises are nothing that I cannot handle,”
In the back of my mind, I felt an underlying sense of dishonesty that blended into her words. And I could not help the odd feeling in my stomach as she pursued to speak of her exciting day.
••• DEFINITIONS
Pericoloso — Dangerous
