The Killers

1- Blood on his hands.

"It is a Friday night, and you are twenty years old, Lacey." I talk into the small speaker on my iPhone as my feet clamper against the cold white tiles of my kitchen. "We need to do something."

"I'm sorry, Toni, but I'm busy." Lacey's high-pitched voice rings in my ears, her tone obviously an annoyed one.

   "I'm a year younger than you, but yet, I still have more of a life than you do!" I inform my best friend with a huff as I pour Captain Crunch into my bowl on the wooden countertop.

    "I'm not the one calling out of boredom." Lacey giggles, and I can just imagine her nose scrunching up the cute little way it does every time she attempts to make a joke.

    "Ergh." I reply to her and grab the milk from my rusty white refrigerator. "You suck."

    "Not as much as your life does." Lacey fires back, sliding a little growl into her words for effect.

    After that, her and I just laugh at ourselves for a few seconds. I rest the cold phone against my ear to use both hands while I pour the milk into my bowl. When Lacey finishes giggling, she says, "But seriously, I am busy. I'll talk to yah later, Toni."

    "See yah, Lace." I respond back before I hang up and then set my phone on the counter. I take the cereal, grab a spoon from one of the wooden drawers below, and then slide right out of the dimly lit kitchen.

I shuffle my way over to my living room, which is a simple room that owns only a small leather couch and a small flat-screen TV. My family's house isn't that fancy, nor that large. My brother, Nicholas, sleeps on the couch with only a pillow and a thin sheet. My mother sleeps with me in the only bedroom we have in this house, her being on a rickety twin bed, and me sleeping on a twin mattress across the tiny room.

But, it is better than my old house. My old house was located in a bad neighborhood. Drug dealers, shootings, and kidnappings would be on the news almost every single morning, and it was just a Hellhole. My worst memories were created there, and most nights I still wake up drenched in sweat from nightmares.

    Nicholas was always there in seconds, though, wrapping me in his arms with brotherly love whenever I woke up screaming. Even on the darkest of nights, I would be able to spot his fluffy blonde hair and his emerald eyes that match my own.

    As I plop myself down on the couch, I stare at the blank TV for a second, but then I scoop a bunch of Captain Crunch Berries into my mouth. I chomp on them, and the sound echoes across the small house. Police sirens wail in the distance, but I block the noise out and listen to the steady crunch of the cereal grinding against my teeth.

    What am I going to do with my life? I'm nineteen and still living with my mother and brother. My brother works, but I am just a drop-out who has never accomplished anything.

    Suddenly, I snap back into reality to realize that the cop sirens are growing louder, and that I can even spot blue and red lights behind the TV through the house's only window.

   After I swallow a mouthful of cereal and then slip another one into my mouth, I set the cereal down and slowly stand up.

    They're not coming here, are they?

   I make my way over to the window, and then peer through. I watch just in time as two cop cars speed past my house, blaring their horns and nearly blinding me with their flashing lights.

   No, Toni, my mind tells itself, you are just paranoid.

    Abruptly, the door swings open and a familiar face pops into view in the porch's dim light. With his blonde hair in messy waves on his head and with his green eyes so tired, I can do nothing but stare in shock.