The police show up at the door and knock violently. My disgruntled step-father opens the door. He is putrid. His scratches his chest hair and rubs his protruding belly as he lazily answers the police’s questions. After not getting the response they were intending they push past him and search the house. They step into the small two-bedroom house and are immediately assaulted with the smell of beer and filth. They carefully examine the furniture and are stopped cold by the red. There is a pool of blood right in front of the window. It is mixed with glass and flowers. They turn to my stepfather and asks where this came from. My step-father looks them straight in the eyes and tells the police that he killed me.
YOU ARE READING
Behind the Closed Curtains
Mystery / ThrillerPeople say that you can never know what goes on behind closed doors. Maybe they shouldn't have paid so much attention to the door and looked more at the curtains. They should examine every stitch, and every color. You can tell a lot about a person b...
