Its winter so the days are shorter and nights are longer. I listen to the clocks constant ticking and then watch the occasional bird coming in and out of the clock. My brother wasn't home yet.
"Honey eat your soup your foods getting cold" my mother said politely as she hurriedly paced around the room worried. I didn't feel like eating, i couldn't eat not without hearing one of my brothers cheesy jokes about mums cooking. Seconds turned to hours it was almost 10:00 the noise of the clocks ticks became deafening and only made me more anxious.
Finally my brother came home covering his half his face with tissues as he was going up to his room my mother jumped in front of him to block his way. "Where were you?" She asked. He turned around and began to pant holding the tissues in his hand tighter. "Im asking you a question" she said with a firmer tone in her voice. I stood there in silence just watching the scene. My brother didn't answer. So my mum snatched all the tissues from his hand to see a huge bruise across his face filled with blood, my brother was beaten bad this time. My mum dropped the tissue in shock and my brother ran upstairs.
I hated to see my brother like this. In rage i ran out of the house to the street where Mr Michelson was murdered. There were no street lights there but i was to angry to be afraid. I ducked the police tape i investigated after a long time of investigation and seeking out clues i found something that even the detectives didn't see yet. It was Mr Michelson's phone. I was surprised that no one had found this yet. It was in between two bushes. Just as i was going to get the phone i heard footsteps walking towards me they got louder and louder closer and closer.
