Marcus Riley is the oldest son of Gina Riley and an unknown father. One day he wakes up in a blood splattered apartment with no memory of how he got there and a mysterious text message on his phone that simply states "Keep Your Mouth Shut." When he...
The smell is probably what caused me to open my eyes, albeit slowly. It was an intoxicating smell, but not one that you would actually expect to find appealing. It was coppery...yeah, that is all I could explain it as. Coppery. I could taste it on my tongue. It was like I shoved a handful of pennies into my mouth and soaked them with saliva. (I wouldn't ponder too much upon this knowledge of my horrible childhood habits)
I got to my knees and looked around. I was in the living area of a small apartment. There was a box spring and mattress without a frame by the door, an entertainment stand with an older television set perched atop it, a bookshelf filled with photo albums and composition books, and walls filled with colored pictures and collages in frames.
My head was pounding. I finally managed to stand, albeit slightly off balance. I looked down at my hands, they felt sticky for some reason...they were red...dark red.
I took another glance around the apartment...
There was blood everywhere...
On the mattress, the floor, the walls, the entertainment stand, splattered on the television screen. I noticed I was standing barefoot in a puddle of blood. My heart began to race. I looked around some more...I wasn't alone....
There was someone on the floor between the main room of the small apartment and the kitchen. I also heard water running from the kitchen sink. I walked slowly towards them. I couldn't tell if it was anyone that I knew.
My text-message notification tone went off. I reached into my pocket and unlocked my phone via pass-code with my blood-soaked hands. There was a single message on the lock-screen:
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I placed my phone back into my pocket and rushed out of the open door of the apartment and down the main stairs of the building. When I stepped outside I was staring directly at the Deltech Wilmington Campus. I stepped away from the building and looked at it carefully...I was outside of the apartment building that my grandparents owned.
"Whose apartment was that?" I thought to myself.
I reach into my pocket and unlocked my phone once again and scrolled through my minor selection of contacts and got hold of my sometimes friend, Ronnie Green. I pushed the call button and waited for her to pickup.
"Marcus, do you have any idea what time it is?" she shouted at me through the phone.
My voice was broken as I spoke; "Ronnie, I need you to come and get me...now...something happen..."
"Marcus calm down, what happen?" she questioned
"Ronnie, just please come to my grandparent's store and get me." I begged her
"Okay, I'll be there in at least an hour." she said before hanging up.
My phone chimed once again. I glanced down at the screen and felt my body freeze up.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: "How are you going to sleep tonight with blood all over your hands?"
*****
Ronnie pulled up in her dark blue Ford Focus. She rolled down the window and looked me up and down. Her jaw then dropped.
"Marcus...what did you do?" her voice was filled with deep shock
"I didn't do anything...at least I don't think I did." I looked at my blood stained hands and felt my body begin shaking again.
"Get in." Ronnie demanded. And I did what I was told.
I slid into the passenger seat. The blood had dried enough that I didn't run the risk of staining her seats. Every time we got to a red light; Ronnie would glance at me, she wanted to ask me questions, but I could see the concern and fear in her light brown eyes, they danced in the light of the night like the glow of a dozen fireflies.
We eventually pulled onto my street and Ronnie parked a couple houses away from mine. She turned to me and spoke:
"Are you going to tell me why the hell you are covered in blood?" her voice was probably a little more aggressive than she had planned
"I woke up...in one of the apartments that my grandparents own..." I was hesitant to get my words together, because even I couldn't believe what had transpired. "...I think someone is dead..."
"Marcus...did...did you kill someone?" Ronnie's eyes were wide as dinner plates at this point
I looked down at my blood soaked hands once again and glanced at my friend...
