Swan Song

Discovery

October 3rd  8 pm

The house stood empty. Dark clouds collected around the small two-story building, what light there was, shone off the balcony and the peeled blue paint; it gave the house an eerie feeling. A day had gone by, the sun hung lazily in the early evening sky. A small boy stood on the edge of the sidewalk starring up at the house, a feeling of caution sweeping over him. He walked up the few steps and knocked on the heavy oaken door, only to find it open. Stepping over the threshold made the caution turn to a sinking feeling, the hairs on the back of the boys neck standing on end. The living room was a mess, the couch was overturned, and the thick coffee table suffered a splinter down the middle, where a heavy weight looked as if it had fallen on it. Miscellaneous objects scattered the floor, the TV knocked off its perch.

“Mr. Evans?” He called already expecting an empty reply. His voice echoed of the walls. He ran up the stairs and into the familiar room of his best friend, stopping at the doorframe. The boy gazed into the room seeing a mess, the pink bed flipped over, the lamp lay next to the nightstand, its base crushed, and clothes from the closet were astray the floor. He stepped forward, glass crunched beneath his shoe, and he looked down. A photo lay on the floor; he bent to pick it out of the broken glass frame. Olivia and he were smiling up at him, a carnival in the background. He read the noticeably childish handwriting on the back. To Olivia, the bestest friend ever from Connor. They had gone to the carnival together to celebrate his 10th birthday last week.

“What happened here…?” Connor whispered, tears welling up behind his eyes. He slid the picture into his coat pocket. He stood and walked further into the room, stopping at the large window to look out across the land. The nearest neighbor was over a mile away; no wonder no body heard anything. Something outside out side caught his eye and he looked down into the lawn to find a man walking around the side of the house. Connor’s breath caught, he stepped out of view just as the man looked up at the window Connor was standing in. What is this guy doing at Olivia’s house? Connor thought. He peaked back through the curtains at the stranger; he was walking ahead through a patch of land. He moved his hand and a lapel of the man’s suit brushed to the side revealing the handle of a pistol. Connor’s heart slammed against his chest. With one final look around Olivia’s room, he rushed down the steps and out of the house. He had the door closed and was walking down the porch steps looking like he had turned around because no one was home.

“What are you looking for boy?” Connor heard and turned to see the man with the pistol coming at him.

“I, uh…” Fear seized Connor’s body and made him freeze where he stood. He tried to keep the fear off his face. “I was, uh, just seeing if my friend was home.” Connor forced a meek smile onto his face. The man looked him over once, as if to decide what he should do with the boy. Connor couldn’t see a badge of any kind on the man, which meant he was a part of what ever happened to Olivia. Connor felt the urge to tackle the man and beat information out of him.

“Well, run along then little boy.” The man said. Ones of relief replaced Connor’s feelings for violence. He pin-wheeled on his heels and took off down the sidewalk.

Connor burst through the doors of his house yelling at the top of his lungs.

“Mom! Mom!” He ran through the kitchen where his mom was sitting at a table with some other women playing poker. She turned toward him, her greasy dyed blond hair falling in front of her face, a cigarette in her hand and a mouth full of potato chips. The glare she aimed towards Connor sent shivers up his spine.

“What’d ya want? Ya intaruptin a important game here.” She crocked in a serious smoker’s voice.

“I-it’s Olivia…” he said in a hesitant voice, looking across the room at the other women.