Catch Me If You Can - Ayrin Southworth (short story to read .txt) 📗

Murder’s out of tune, And sweet revenge grows harsh. –William Shakespeare, Othello

I stand stunned looking around me. I'm in my parent's bedroom, but I don't remember coming in here. I turn around slowly taking everything in. Everything looks so alien. My eyes fall onto the bed. Lying there painted red are my parents. I step forward taking in the sight. For the first time in my life, I look at them unafraid. My lips twist into a smile. I'm free. I lean against the nearest wall and take a deep breath. My mind starts working a hundred miles a minute. What did I just do? 

"Oh my god." My voice echoes around the empty cold room. I walk into the bathroom and examine my appearance in the mirror. My white tee shirt is now a deep crimson color. The bags under my grey eyes make my face look hallow. The look isn't helped by my pale complexion which contrasts the black hair that frames my face and falls down my back. I look down at the knife in my hand. I drop it in the sink and turn the water on. I hold my hands under the cold water and try to wash the blood off my hands. As I scrub my hands clean I notice the tears falling from my eyes. I turn the water off and wipe them away. I take off my bloody shirt and wad it up. I quickly walk to my room and change into a clean shirt and throw on a clean pair of jeans. I sit down on the edge of my bed. My heart feels like it could burst from my chest at any moment. What do I do? I just murdered my parents. The realization of what just happened hit me like a tsunami. I can’t stay here. No one will understand. I can’t go to jail.

“I have to run,” I mutter under my breath. With a sudden burst of energy, I jump up. I grab a backpack from my closest and throw in some clothes. I run through the house and scramble together all the cash I could find.

“It’s not much, but it should last a few days,” I mutter stuffing the wad into my pocket. I grab some cereal and protein bars from the closet and zip up my bag. I grab my jacket from beside the door. I open the door and walk out into the crisp October air. I sling my pack over my shoulder as I walk over to the cars. I open the door to Corolla and throw the pack onto the passenger seat. I turn around and look at the house for the last time. I think about all the terrible things that happened to me in there. Not going to miss you. I get in the car and start the engine just as the sun starts to peak over the mountains. As I drive away, a weight falls off my shoulders and it feels like I can breathe, truly breath, for the first time.

Detective Tom Barton walked into the precinct coffee in hand. He muttered a few hellos to people as he passed them. As soon as he got into the elevator, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and read the lit up screen.

            Get down to 4546 Victor Ave. This is your main priority.

Barton read the text from the chief of police and shrugged. He quickly stepped out of the elevator before the doors slide close. He strode out of the precinct to his car. It only took a few minutes to get to the address the chief had sent him. When he pulled up on the house, it was already swarming with police officers and the CSI unit. Barton approached an officer standing by the front door.

“Right in here detective.” The officer said leading Barton into the house. Barton was led through the kitchen into the master bedroom. Barton’s eyes fell on the bodies. A man and a woman lay on the bed covered in blood. The CSI unit was snapping pictures of the room and bagging evidence. Barton walked over to stand beside the medical examiner who looked up as he approached.

“What’ve we got here Mackie?” Barton asked.

“They were stabbed through the heart. Four times each, they bled out pretty quick.” She answered. Now that he was closer to the bodies, Barton could see the wounds.

“Time of death?” He asked turning to take in the rest of the room.

“Between 10 pm and 2 am,” Mackie said turning to face Barton.

“That’s a four-hour window. Are there any witnesses? Who found to the body?” Barton asked grabbing a pad of paper from a nearby CSI.

“There were no witnesses. The wife’s coworker discovered the bodies when he came by to pick her up. A CSI found the murder weapon in the bathroom sink. And no one’s heard or seen the daughter since yesterday.” Mackie said filling Barton in. Barton nodded his head and took notes. He thanked Mackie and went to check the rest of the house. He strode into the daughter's room. The whole room seemed sad and depressed. In fact, the room was almost empty. There was a firm mattress on a squeaky frame. There was a small dresser with hardly any clothes in it. A few miscellaneous objects were scattered on the floor. Barton shivered as he left the grey room. This entire house had an air something dark. Barton walked out the front door mind working overtime. He found the nearest officer and pulled him aside.

“Bring the coworker who found the bodies down to the precinct so I can get his statement later. Also, notify the next of kin and get a BOLO out on the missing girl.” Once he was back in his car, Barton dropped his head in his hands. Something about this case gave him an uneasy feeling. He finished his lukewarm coffee and headed for the precinct.

Publication Date: 05-25-2018

All Rights Reserved