The Unfortunante, The Ordinary, And The Changed

Chapter 1: Shit happens

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Walking. Just walking. No sense of time, no destination, no hesitation. Just walking.

That's what I was doing at 2 something in the morning. The cops had already been to my house. I called them, but of course, it was to late.

                 2 HOURS EARLIER.....

"Open the door you little bitch!"

I clamped my hands over my ears. I was in no way new to this treatment. It had been happening for 4 years and 3 months. It had been happening since Floor died.

"Go away," I screamed. Just then a knife stabbed through the bathroom door. The Lousy piece of shit had the nerve to break, when I didn't even falter after being stabbed. He kicked the door, and it cracked in two. He slammed his way in and tried to grab me. I turned and stared at him as he stalked towards me with his knife held above his head. I smirked. wasn't this some crazy movie shit? Then I started laughing, laughing so loud, I bet my unconscious mother could hear me.

He looked like a monster, and I looked crazy. I am crazy. I mean, who laughs before they die? But I couldn't hold it in. I was tired. And tired of being tired, after a while you can only laugh at the things you can't change.

He paused for a second, confused as to why I was laughing at him. After all He was the scary one, the one I should be frightened of.

But what he didn't know was that I was done with being scared. I'd been done for about 3 years now. This was getting older than old.

Pure hot hatred and anger flashed across his face.

"Do you think this is funny bitch?"

I stare at him for a second.

"Bitch? You know you REALLY shouldn't call yourself stuff like that, I mean respect starts within yourself right?"

Well if he wasn't angry before, he was most definitly shitting bricks then.

"you should stop now the cops are already on the way."

  He charged at me with his knife. He was so nimble on his feet, you never would have Known he was drunk, until you smelled him that is. I ducked as he swung the knife down. I ran out the room and into the kitchen. I stepped around the counter to the other side to get a knife out of the drawer. But I made one mistake. Just one mistake.

  I looked down. She was more than unconscious. She was gone. blood pored, and I could still see the towel I put on her stomach to keep the blood from oozing out. It was caked in blood. So was the floor.

He sauntered into the kitchen. Like he had all day to kill me, like I was next to be pouring blood on the kitchen floor.

"Alon," I looked up startled to hear my name. He hadn't said my name in years.

"I hate you ," and with that he plunged the knife into his heart.

I stood shocked for about a minute before the fact that I was standing in a room full of dead bodies sunk in. I opened the front door and sat on the steps. seconds later the sound of the ambulance, and the police cars slashed through the silent neighborhood. Police rushed to me, "They're in the kitchen I say without emotion. "There dead." By then most of my neighbors had come outside.

Policemen and paramedics rushed into the house while some stayed to talk to me. "How old are you?" a lady police officer asked me.

"16,'' I said. ''OK, what's your name and what exactly happened here?''