If I was too late to act on Mr. Cannons kidnaper, and on MacRoy's kidnapper I was too ready, then maybe the next time, I could catch the murderer. But my father didn't call, mother never picked up, which lead me to suspicion of why I never heard the soft voice of her. Today was melancholy, we were unprotected, but I was ready for an attack.
I at least thought I was ready, that instinct, I found out, of doing what's right; was made up by teachers, and peers, to make you feel safe. In this case in unsettled my deeply, in words indescribable. I felt as if I would watch the criminal run away with my siblings, and I would just stand there. "No," I told myself. " I'm here to watch and protect my siblings, and I intend to do so," I huddled Max my young brother and Marci my childish sister, into the basement and covered them up with blankets. After stocking the cupboard, and telling Marci how to prepare the food; then I grabbed as many of my father's collected weapons. They were a pair of knives, a bo, and some sort of long pointy staff with embedded jewels. Each lay on the couch covered in dust.
' " dust; class; is actually made mostly of human flesh. Dead skin if you will. In fact, chances are, while walking through the woods or visiting a cemetery; you have breathed in the ash of some one." "Eww" someone said. "Well that's thanks to the people who have their loved ones cremated,"'
I shivered at the thought of watching someone slowly burn. Soon after waiting for hours, someone knocked at the door. I was surprised, I thought murderous, kidnaping, criminals captured their victims stealthily. Holding the pointy thing, I slowly open the door, just to find a tall beat up looking man. Only seeing his dark clothes, I dropped the staff in fear, and threw a solid punch to the chest. Surprised the man fell back. He looked as if he had just been interrogated in some villains basement, of course this idea came from a movie I once saw.
After kicking the fallen man, once more in the guts, I dragged him into the house. I was curious as to why he hadn't tried to grab me or kidnap me. Only after sitting him against the sofa did I realize it was Mr. Mitths.
After a while he asked me where my siblings were.
"First what happened to you?" I questioned, with more sympathy than I'd prefer.
" just a fight, Max and Marci where are they?" He still couldn't catch his breath,his hand; I noticed was holding his side where blood slowly spurted. Instead of answering I retrieved to the kitchen and heated a towel. When i came in I handed it to him. I decided all a babysitter needed after being beat up, was a stubborn kid. "In the cellar," I answered quietly.
"Why'd you attack, me?"
