Bullied

Twelve

"Come fast, please," Fred begged before hanging up the phone. There was no way Fred's short chubby stature was going to defend himself from the beating of his life. He clearly deserved it but still. I called 911 and informed them about the situation right away.

I was panting badly by the time I got close enough to see Fred's house, so I slowed down. I didn't enter right away. Instead, I looked at the meat shop just a few feet away from me. The shop was open. I thought maybe I made some mistake or was going to make one.

Despite the distance, I could hear someone inside sharpening his knife, aggressively. If it was Justin and he can be stopped right here, then I would take my chances. I had to make sure I didn't just call 911 for nothing. I rushed towards the shop. It wasn't Justin, but his father who welcomed me with a warm smile.

"Hey boy, what's the rush?" Jake asked. His warm smile now turned into a concerned one.

"Is Justin here?" I asked, gasping for air.

"Umm, I think so. Why?" The words, although not confirmed, were still a relief. Maybe his uncle had taken a leave from work earlier today and he was the one knocking on the door.

"Just checking, can you call him out please?" I asked, thinking of what to tell the cops about Fred once they arrived. At least I now knew Fred still kept the notebook. Surely he'd have put the fake website on the list.

"Sure," he looked worried and put down both his knives on the table, next to a pig's severed head. He walked inside and I can hear him call Justin's name but neither of us heard anyone answer it. He came back, frowning. "Well, he's not here. Damn kid sometimes forgets to tell me when he's going somewhere. Did he do anything?"

"Oh no, I... I just wanted to meet him and see how expertly he sharps the knives," I blurted out. I looked back at the house and then at the knives he was sharpening earlier. They looked old. Older than the ones I had seen last time. "Don't you have any other, sharper knives?"

"I do, but for the last half hour or so they've been missing. So I'm stuck with this junk."

"Your knife's missing?" My heart started to beat faster again.

"Yeah, not just some knife. I sharpened a special knife to teach Justin. Cuts through meat and bones like cutting through cheese. He uses it more than I do so he probably put it somewhere I can't find," That made me nervous. "Anyways, I'm afraid he's not here son but I'll tell him you were asking and maybe he'll do a one man knife sharpening show for you. Any messages you want to leave?"

"None," I said and walked back towards Fred's house praying that the knife wasn't where I feared it could be. The door to Fred's house was open and the way to his room looked clear enough. Should I go in? What if it is too late?

The conversation I just had with Justin's father felt too casual, as if there wasn't anything wrong going on. The same conversation echoed in my head as I walked through the silent hallway. I wanted to wait for the cops to show up but was way too curious for my own good. What if they were upstairs talking, only Fred was too scared to speak up? What if the cops thought this was a joke? What if I just wasted their time for nothing and next time if it was a real emergency, they didn't show up. What if all this was just a misunderstanding and nothing else? Maybe the knife was just there but Jake didn't see it. All these questions flooded my brain as I climbed up the stairs. The door to Fred's room was wide open.

I almost called out his name, when I remembered the phone number that I had talked to earlier. The one that pretended to be Amy. I quickly searched the number and dialed it. I put the phone to my ear and looked back at Fred's room. My blood froze as I saw him.

Justin stood at the door to Fred's room. He was only a meter or so away from me. A terrible smell came from the room, almost following Justin. The smell was terrible enough but the worst part was how familiar it was. It was as if I had walked back into the butcher's shop. It was an unmistakable scent of gore. A loud buzz made me jump. It was his phone. After all this silence, that noise was deafening. I quickly canceled the call, but then it was back to being uncomfortably quiet again.

What scared me more was that Justin had gotten closer. If he jumped, he may even catch me. And the most terrifying thing was on his other hand. A long, sharp, and bloodied butcher's knife. The knife that could cut through flesh and bones like cheese. If he swung that, it'll cut my throat with ease, if not the entire head in a matter of seconds.

I began walking backwards as Justin's blood covered face, with those wet eyes stared back at me. We were in a silent staring contest. When I began to walk faster, so did he. I panicked and turned around to run away as fast and as far as I could but I wasn't nearly as fast as Justin.

I must've taken only two or three steps away from the stairs, away from him, when his long strong hand reached me. Justin's bloodied fingers sank into my shoulder. His grip was stronger than I wanted to believe. Before I had any chance at fighting back, he jerked me off of my feet.

I landed on my back at the top of the stairs. I regret coming here. How was I so fucking stupid to willingly go towards danger? For a moment I thought I deserved this. The whole day has been a chain of stupid decisions. The back of my head rested on the steps as I looked up at Justin and the fresh blood that was dripping off his knife. Fred's blood.

I assumed his body was inside, probably with a huge stab wound across his chest. My legs and arms went limp when Justin grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me up towards him, towards the knife. The steps of the stairs pressed against my spine as I went up. I shook like a fish out of water but Justin's grip didn't loosen.

I dreaded what was next. Was he going to take me inside the room and slaughter me like a goat? I was wrong. Justin didn't pull me inside the room. He instead sat me down in front of the door, my feet still on the top steps of the stairs. I lay there and stared in horror as the man with the knife kneeled down.

Justin was going to kill me right where I was. I wanted to move but I knew, no matter how fast I was, Justin would be faster and if he tried to fight back, the knife would take care of that with ease.

The pointy end of his knife was inches away from my chest. My heart was beating so fast, I was sure it was going to jump right out of me at the first cut the knife makes. The smell from the knife was also disgusting. To the point my breakfast was starting to climb up my throat. I didn't say anything, I couldn't speak. Justin lowered the knife on my chest, close to the place he once threw the steel ruler at. I was going to be stabbed slowly and painfully, probably the same way he killed Fred.

"I tried," Justin finally spoke, his voice but a whisper. "I didn't want this to happen. I tried... and I failed," I looked up at him and what I saw were tears. "I found the notebook," his voice broke as he came closer to me. I closed my eyes. "Maybe I deserved it."

I struggled to speak as my heartbeat ran wild in my ears. I kept my eyes closed. A few seconds later, I heard something. It was a siren, the police have finally arrived. But to what help? To me those sirens were basically death bells. Whether you kill one person or you kill more, you're still getting charged for manslaughter. I closed my eyes expecting the knife to tear through my flesh and become a casualty to Justin's meltdown. I waited for the knife to pierce through my skin and maybe enter my heart.