short story

I was just a kid watching my favorite television show when my father walked in and changed the channel. The news started playing. I sighed, frustrated. The news was boring! All they talked about was the weather and some other things a kid like me did not need to know. Or so I thought. An eerie video started playing, with a strange, deep voice speaking quietly about a person vanishing from... Honeysuckle Valley? Oh my goodness, that was where I lived! With a shaky voice, the reporter stated, “A person by the name of Evelyn Gardener was found dead in her house at Honeysuckle Valley and her body was just found washed up by the river, still covered in a mass of blood.” My eyes widened and my hands began to tremble as I realized that this person was the neighbor that lived right across our house. The reporter drew in a deep, shuddering breath before speaking again, “There is still no evidence found to suspect anyone of murdering her, despite police trying their best to solve this case.” I began to cry as I reminisced on how Evelyn and I used to talk and play games together on the weekends. Despite them being a full grown adult, I loved to play with them. Just then, I realized that we might be at risk of getting killed as well, seeing as the murder happened right in our town. My palms got sweaty and my eyes welled up with hot tears as I begged Father to take us to Grandma’s house, in another town far away from Honeysuckle Valley. Fortunately, he agreed. Father went upstairs, hurriedly woke Mother up and told her the entire story. She immediately got dressed and called Grandma. I quickly packed my essentials and rushed to Father’s car, him and Mother right behind me. Father hurriedly started the car and drove to Grandma’s house as fast as he could. When we reached Grandma’s house, Father turned on the radio. It turns out, the police had finally found the murderer’s DNA on Evelyn’s body, tracked them down, and arrested them. We were relieved, but I was still too afraid to go back home, so we stayed the night at Grandma’s home. Sure, we could live our lives again as it was finally over, but life would be different without my neighbor.