One night, I was home alone. My parents were out of town for a party that their friends invited them too. It was a no children party as people would be drinking. So I would be home for a couple days without anyone to watch me.
I was doing my homework and I was in the kitchen. It was the only room in a table that was able to be used. All the others had a tone of coffee mugs and unopened mail. It was around seven pm and It was dark outside. My homework was done and I had nothing else to do. I decided to watch something on the TV and eat some popcorn. The living room was dark and the lights didn't work. My family couldn't afford a new light bulb. It was nearly night and I didn't have anything to do.
As I walked up to my room, the swinging lights above me, I try to keep moving so nothing. My room was small and cold. It had an usual smell, coming from under my bed. I'm was sure it was nothing and begun to go to bed. I was drifting off to sleep when the door bell rang. I didn't answer. It began to ring more and more, violently and it went on for hours, all through the night.
My phone went off at eight in the morning. I managed to sleep and I thought everything was over. But as I had work, I decided to open my front door and get some shopping before I was due to be on a long meeting. But when I opened the door. Blood. Everywhere. My whole front porch was covered in blood. And it wasn't animal blood. My parent's blood. A note was stuck to my now broken doorbell, jammed with a knife. It read, "You slipped my
