*EDITING; DON'T READ*

Chapter 1

Today was his funeral. Whenever my eyelids fell down, my lashes resting on my pale cheeks, the image of him collapsing was there. It had only been a week, but I expected everything to get better, for the grieving of him to get easier. But of course it didn't.

You hear of funerals where it rains or the sky is covered in gray, well it isn't like that today. The crisp blue of the sky peeked out from the white puffy clouds. It was as perfect as it could be in a world like this. Dad would've been outside on the porch drinking a cup of coffee this morning while listening to the radio. He would always listen to the news or politics, rarely any music. I used to hate listening to the voices bicker back and forth on the radio while my Dad made his own comments, but now I would just love to hear the radio with him sitting next to it, expressing his own opinions again.

I wrapped my arms around myself as I looked at the ground my feet were resting on. Others around me cried while I looked down a scuffed the side of my shoe into the grass . His good friends were here as well as a good portion of the town. Some of his friends came up and hugged me like it would make the pain of losing him go away, but maybe it helped them. Hugging what was left of him.

Listening to his boss talk about him, saying what a good man he was, how kind, and warm to others he was made me wonder how they saw him. If they saw the man that was pulling himself away from the world and blocking everything out, or was it just me who say that side of him? He had become more distant over the last few months but I didn't know exactly why. At first I thought it was just him busy with work, something that would pass. But as time went on I saw less and less of him, spending meals in my bedroom alone. For awhile I was mad at him, for pushing me away and acting like I don't exist but there is no way I can be mad at him now. After he’s gone.

"Are you okay?" A hand on my shoulder startled me. Looking up I recognized one of his good friends he worked with, but I couldn't place his name. His eyes were bloodshot and filled with sadness and concern as he looked down on me.

"Fine." I swallowed and then carefully asked. "D-Did he seem a bit distant? At work?"

He looked at me curiously but then answered shaking his head. "No. He was his regular self."

"Oh." I had hoped it wasn't just me that he was pushing away, trying not to make eye contact with when walking past each other in the hallway.

"Was that how it was at home?" He asked looking down.

"Yeah." My voice was quiet.

"I'm sorry." He apologized.

"No." I shook my head. "Its not your fault."

He nodded silently, the two of us falling into a silence. Only the sad sounds in the background, another reminder of the reason we were here. I disliked funerals, with the awkward conversations and the racking of my brain trying to remember how everyone knew who or who was related to who. But in the end we're all six feet under.

"Sam!" Turning, I caught sight of my friend maneuvering between people trying to get to me. With this opportunity the man beside me excused himself and walked back towards his family.

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me a little too tightly but I didn't say anything. She pulled away, but left her hands on my shoulders, and looked me straight in the eye. It made my uncomfortable, holding eye contact with even my friend that I went to school with since fourth grade.

"I'm so sorry." She said and I could see small tears beginning to form in her eyes. She knew my Dad pretty well from coming over and hanging out with me. But for some reason I wished I was the one on the brink of tears and my father's funeral. Not my friend. It should be me.

"It's fine." Once again I lowered my gaze, shuffling my feet. "Well, as fine as it can be."

She nodded and then pulled me into another strong embrace. Awkwardly I hugged her back, feeling a few tears seeping through my shirt. The rest of it went by with people telling me how sorry they were for my loss and unwanted hugs. It was kind of a blur since most of the time I found myself staring off into space looking at absolutely nothing. It was like I wasn't there, well maybe not that but it seemed like I was empty. Just standing there, not a thought running through my head.

I didn't drive here, knowing it was unsafe of me to be behind the wheel in the state I'm in. So when it came to a close, the friend of Dad's who I talked to earlier took me home. I still couldn't remember the name of the tall, graying man whose car I was in. We rode in silence and when we pulled into the driveway, I quietly thanked him and then scurried out of the car and into the dimly lit house.

Once inside I undressed of my nice but not too comfortable clothes, trading them for a old faded t-shirt and a pair of gray baggy sweatpants. I stayed in my room, not wanting to walk around the empty house. In a odd way I was almost glad that my Dad had become distant through the past few months, it didn't help much though.

The police were still looking for the man I described who had killed him. As far as I knew they hadn't found him or gotten any leads. Sadly. Maybe finding him would mean I would get a reason. A reason for why he was killed. Like what my father's boss said today, he was a good man, he was, even if I couldn't see it towards the end. He worked hard, supporting me and for the most part he was kind and honest. So, why? At the moment that's all I wanted to know. That's when a thought nearly took the air from my lungs.

The letter.

Flinging the blankets that were draped over me, I got up and went to the corner of my room where I had thrown my stuff from that day. My jacket caught my eye from a few feet away. Blood was still on the fabric. Trying not to think about whose blood it was or even why there was blood on it, I stuffed my hand into the pocket. Feeling nothing I checked the other. The rough but worn corner of the envelope brushed my fingers making me grab hold of it and pull it into sight.

Sitting on the end of my bed I looked it over. Like I noticed the first time I looked at it, it had been folded many times. Like someone read it then folded it up, then not believing the words unfolded it and read it again. There was a red seal on it, something I hadn't noticed before. It had kept the envelope shut as it had been delivered but now it was broken through the middle. I hesitantly opened the flap of the envelope wondering if I should read it. But I wanted answers, right? Maybe I could get one. With my decision made I quickly reached into the envelope grabbing the paper that would hopefully have a answer to one of my questions.

Unfolding the mysterious letter, I began eagerly reading the overly extravagant cursive handwriting.

'Dear Zachary,

You have disobeyed me. I expect my wishes to be fulfilled by next week at latest. Why would you listen to me? Well, I'm not evil enough to kill you, you've been such a good servant. Your family, on the other hand, is quite disposable. I don't care how old your adorable little son is. I'll make sure that he lives just long enough to know what his own beating heart tastes like. I'm sure this sounds like an unsatisfying fate to you, and now that we see eye-to-eye, I suggest you do my bidding, or I'll force you to watch your loved ones burn. It's really not a hard job, and I am very disappointed in you, but I am giving you one last chance. Be grateful, you lazy sack of lard.

Ta-ta! - G.M.'

Evil was the first word that came to mind after I finished reading the letter. I wondered how sick G.M. was to use a life of a child to get someone to do his bidding. It made me almost feel sorry for Zachary who was put into that situation but he was still a murderer. But now most of my anger was on G.M., the one who is apparently the ring leader behind my Dad's death.

G.M. will pay, somehow he has to. But now I just need to find his weak spot.