Reflections of Shadows

Chapter 5: The Scene of the Crime

FIVE

I got home in a matter of minutes and by the time I reached the door, I already knew something was wrong.

Four cars sat in my driveway and on the lawn around my house.

My dad's car.

My mom's car.

Aunt Jancy and Uncle Nick's car.

And Uncle Chris's car.

The other cars didn't worry me so much as did Uncle Chris's car, since he was kind of the general and ran like half the base. Something traumatic had to have happened for Uncle Chris to be there.

I walked into the house, taking off my shoes. I walked past the workout room into the kitchen and turned the corner. A group of people stood in a circle around a spot in the living room. I pushed past them.

And there on the couch, with some blood still smeared on his face, was Huxley.

He was laying on the couch, his neck bent at an odd angle and his arms splayed to the side. There was a wound in his side that my Aunt Jancy was trying to soak up with her hankerchief. It was already wrapped in gauze and body tape but Aunt Jancy couldn't seem to think that would be good enough. His eyes were shut, and no one was strong enough to move him so he just laid there. Behind him, a mirror had shattered, with shards of glass laying to and fro about the kitchen One bloody shard of glass, in particular, that must have been the weapon laid beside the couch.

I felt stomach bile rise to my mouth. I swallowed it.

"Mom...." I said weakly.

My mom turned around, her ashen face kissing my forehead.

"He isn't dead sweetie. Only unconcious." She said reasurringly.

Even though I didn't care about Huxley, I couldn't help but wonder how he got in this mess.

"What happened?" I asked.

"We don't know." My dad said, touching my mom's shoulder. "He came over to borrow a book of your mother's for homework but when we got home he was like this....."

I broke from my mother's grasp and went to Huxley's side crouching beside him.

I grabbed his cold face with my hand and turned it to me.

"What were you up to moron?" I said, letting his head drop to the cushion.

Aunt Jancy began wimpering. "Don't, don't touch my Huxley! It's not his fault he was hurt! It must have been a murder!"

I grabbed his hand, clenched in a fist. When I pried it open, I saw a note, made of white paper, pure white paper, despite the bloodstained hand.

I lifted the paper with my hand and opened it up.

It was written clearly in black ink with a pennmannship that could not have been Huxley's.

This is the beginning of the end.

Leaving living some and others dead.

See your reflection and my advice is this

Do your best to just resist

And while this is all a passing phase

Everything is about to change.

So you could say it was an alarming experience.

I held the note in my hands, not knowing what to think.

Uncle Chris broke through the crowd and stood by my side. I always had liked my Uncle Chris. His harsh features, tan and weathered and steely grey eyes could obserbve me and always seemed to understand me.

"What's the problem Gwennie?" He said.

I handed him the note.

He took it, and read it up and down.

"It's strange." He said handing me it back. "I'd say it was an failed murder but...."

"But why Huxley?"

"Exactly." He said solemnly.

We sat for a moment in silence.

"It's best not to worry too much about stuff like this." He said. "Most knots undo themselves in the end."

"So while he's unconcious..." Uncle Chris's eyes darted to the kitchen sink with the kitchen scissors to Huxley's hair. He looked back at me with a glint in his eyes that only meant one thing.

Moving fast, I stood up, I snatched the scissors off the counter and grabbed a hunk of Huxley's girly hair. With an effortless flick of my fingers, I snipped off a large hunk of hair from his forehead.

Aunt Jancy screamed.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" She shrieked.

I continued to cut. Across the forehead, to the sides and off the top. I began to flip his head back when Uncle Nick boomed.

"That's enough Gwen! Stop this nonesense!"

"Not done yet!" I said. I flipped his head over and kept snipping, cutting it all shorter and shorter.

My dad stepped in and tried to pull me off off my cousin. "Dear, please stop now."

"EITHER THE BIEBER HAIR GOES OR I DO!" I yelled.

"I agree!" My mom said. She sat beside me. "But let the proffessional handle this."

My mom took the scissors and began snipping all the more furiously, whipping his head back and getting all the long pieces.

When she had finished, my mom patted my shoulder and said over Aunt Jancy's screams. "You should probably call Lydia now and catch her up."

"OK," I said, making my exit to the upstairs.

When I was about halfway up the stairs I heard a voice.

"Wha....wha happened......"

"Oh Huxley Wuxley, I'm so glad you're alright..."

A girly scream erupted through the house.

"WHERE'S MY HAIR?!!!!"

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Hello guys!

Sorry I haven't posted a little note in a while.

I know I haven't answered any of the questions I last left you with in my last note, but I promise that's coming next chapter.

BTW, I owe the inspiration of the next chapter to my friend Novelninja, who basically was feeding me ideas for this book since I've been suffering a bad case of Writers Block.

Thanks for tuning in I really appreciate it!