House in the Marshes

Victim

The night was warm and humid. Sweat leaked from my forehead and down to my neck and shoulders. You would assume that the night in the countryside would be loud and full of insects up and about, but here at this house there was just silence. In fact , I haven't seen an animal around ever since I passed though the area of the land.

I came from the city, and didn't know what to expect when I came here. I can't fathom living here for over a year. It's too quiet and hot for me. I don't know how long I'll be staying , but I hope the police will solve the case soon. I never would have thought that I'd be stuck in a witness protection house, but I guess I don't have a choice. My name is now "Edward Turner", and I'm a countryside "park ranger". I hope that I can go back to the name of Jessie soon.

I am impressed of how isolated the police department made me. For miles there's just marshlands and dirt roads. I'm about 20 miles from the nearest town and 45 miles from the nearest big city. That's a pain. The land is about 12 acres and not a town surrounds the edge. I've lived here in Georgia my whole life , and plan on staying here for the rest of it.

Officer Morse said that he'll be meeting me in a few days. I hope to get more news of the case and possibly leave this house soon. Working as a Bank Teller was something I was really looking forward to after high school. I finally graduated and got the job, and after only three weeks of working at the small bank, I was threatened by a criminal. I can't get the image of the gun barrel pointing strait at my face. Just as I pulled out the money, the manager had already quietly contacted the police. I didn't know of this at the time. Another co-worker of mine that didn't know as well was insane enough to try and tackle the masked wretch from behind. It was all so sudden. A bullet was shot and ricocheted towards the other criminal. Right in the head. Blood splashed about and stained the bank from the computers to the hostages. I couldn't hear for a while for my ears were still numb from the bang. I remember seeing the red and blue police lights flashing though the windows and alarming the criminal. He quickly ran to the back exit, and stopped to shout these gut wrenching words: "I'll remember all of you. You bastards will pay for what happened to to Hernandez!" There was a cold tone to his voice. A voice that afflicted the everyone in the bank.

I examined the house, as a fly observes the spider web it lies in. Across the front entrance there was a long hallway that lead to the kitchen and to the right there was the stair case. The only light that flickered was the porch lamp. The darkness of the house made my back twitch. I looked for the light switch as fast as I could and knocked over a pot in the process. The noise made me jump a little, and soon I realized that it was my fault. The lights worked but delayed a lot. I placed my belongings onto the dusty couch and walked around the empty home. In the file description it said that the house hasn't been occupied for a while and the PD has been keeping it for someone with my situation. Clearly no one has checked on it and bothered to clean up. It will have to do however, I can't expect too much for a last minute case. The silence is calming and the lack of Mosquitos is even better. The lack of anything is even better.

I went up the stairs with my luggage to see a suitable bedroom. I noticed that most of the rooms had clothes from the pervious victims. One room had a large pair of parachute pants tucked under the bed. That last person must have been here around the 80s. There was some mold around the house and the paint was chipped all over the kitchen. The bathroom had poor lighting and the TV was very old. I didn't bother trying to turn on any of the electronics. Most of it was probably broken anyways. I kept the lighting high around the hallways and living room so that I didn't feel so lonely. I was completely alone , but at the same time it didn't feel that way.