11 January, 2018

WARNING: DISTURBING CONTENT.

My name is Daniel Stevens, and this is the story of the worst day of my life.

I was texting my friend Rachel while standing in a little cemetery. Upon reading the stones, I remarked that people around the turn of the century were given the most interesting names. Me? I'm just a small-town girl named Daniel. My parents didn't bother to put a "le" on the end, but everyone calls me Danielle anyway.

I soon left the cemetery after relaxing for a bit, and headed into the church. That day we were having elections for our new treasurer, but I was too young to vote. Only 17! I found my parents, and let them know I was heading over to my friend Bill's house early and would meet them there.

The door was open, but Bill was nowhere to be found so I waited in his room. Then I realized: they never leave their door unlocked. So I hid behind a chair, and that was when I saw the bodies. His parents were lying on the side of the room, against the wall. They were split open from neck to groin, but there was no blood. None.

I screamed silently, just like that guy in the painting.

Then, I heard the door slam, and Bill walked in the room. My friend did not see me. He did see his parents, and screamed. A voice cackled in the hallway, and walked into Bill's room. The figure stabbed him in the chest, and left.

I was petrified with fear, and during my weakness, Bill bled out.

My parents were going to come over here for the after-election party, so I dragged myself outside to wait for them. They came eventually, and I put on a happy face and said, "We should ring the doorbell." However, they then noticed that the door was open so they went inside...and saw the carnage too. They panicked, and I called 911.

The police and ambulance came, and surveyed the crime scene. It was determined there was nothing to be done, and they took the bodies. My parents were a little suspicious about the activities, but I still went back to school the next day.

I passed the trigonometry teacher, and it made me cry since trig was Bill's favorite class. My first hour was physics, and we were getting our tests returned. Everybody seemed a bit down, but I lost it when my score was returned. "100%," it read, "As good as Bill York." Bill was the best at physics in our class, and the test must have been graded before Sunday evening.

I wondered, "Bill died from losing blood. Can't we just put the blood back in him and he'll be fine?"