A Day In The Life - {Watty Awards 2015}

Chapter 7: All Together Now (Jeb)

When we pulled up to my house, it was about 7:30 and I knew we were both ready to talk about the crimes. We got into the house and everyone was about to eat dinner.

"Hey, perfect timing to grace us with your presence, we're just about to have dinner. Have you eaten? We're having tacos," Mom said when we walked in the door.

"Sounds great, Mom," I told her. We took off our shoes and made our way to the kitchen to get food. While we were getting food, the buzz of the day's news flowed from my mom's mouth, filling us all with the glad hope that we might not have to make conversation. Eventually, we all made our way to the table and sat down, me between Andrew and Melinda. I'm sure she was having a difficult time with sitting so close to him, but it's the best I could do.

As we sat there, eating, Andrew never once spoke a word. I wondered why until I realized that Jeffery was over for dinner. That silence I could understand, because I do the same thing when he's around. It's generally uncomfortable when he's around.

When we finished dinner, we thanked my mom and helped with dishes. When the whole ordeal was finally over, Melinda and I headed up to my room to talk.

"Talk murder to me," I said and she laughed. I couldn't help but laugh with her; her laugh was contagious.

"Alright," she said when we had settled down, and that started us laughing again.

"Anyway," she said when we'd calmed down a second time, "he seems like the type to leave a ransom note, but no notes have turned up anywhere."

"How does he kill the parents?" I asked, morbid sense of curiosity kicking in.

"I don't know," she said, and I grabbed my laptop. I searched up the murders in local newspapers, finding a reputable source: The Coeur d'Alene Press had done an article on the murders after the second one. He had come into the houses, without signs of breaking and entering in either case, a sign that the people knew the person. He had cut them apart and scattered their parts throughout the houses. Sick. I relaid this information to her, seeing as she mentally gagged like I had when I told her how they were killed.

"So," she said, "that seems like a good place to start."

"What seems like a good place to start?" We both jumped and turned around at the voice, which we soon saw belonged to Andrew.

"Being promoted at the Pita Pit is a good start to taking over the world," I said. Seeing that he didn't make the connection, I went on, "You have to stop that."

"Stop what?" He asked, innocently.

"Being creepy. They invented knocking for a reason."

"Crabby, sheesh." He said, "I just wanted to come see what you were doing and hang out up here, if that was okay with you, because the rest of the family is trying to coerce me into a crap game of Pictionary, and you know how well it goes over when I play Pictionary. Bad things happen. But if you're really not in the mood for older-brotherly company, I can find my own way to get out of it."