Frightful Flash Fiction

The Orphan

My parents had died when I was only twelve years old. I still have a hard time thinking about it. I mean, I guess most people would. My neighbors at the time had heard screaming coming from our house and called the police. It was too late by the time the police had showed up, both my parents were already stabbed to death. I was holding onto my dead mother crying when they came in. The police had walked up to me and asked me what happened. The issue was I was asleep when it happened, so I didn't really know anything. I saw my parents lifeless bodies. Multiple stab wounds in their chest. They were covered in blood. It was on the news, a bunch of people told me how they were so sorry for my loss. The police never found the murderer. I was then taken in by my Uncle Leslie. I lived with him for a couple years, until something terrible happened again. A fire had started in the house. This time the fire department came to help us out. They saved me first, then one guy went in to save my Uncle. Niether of them made it out. I was crying so much that night. They later decided that it was a gas leak that caused the fire. I had no other family members to go to after that. To make things worse, people didn't want to adopt me. They said I was bad luck, that they were afraid if they'd adopt me, that they'd go next. Some time passed, and I was finally taken in by a foster family. There was four of them, they were actually really nice and caring. The dad had owned a gun, he told me where it was, so in the case of a break in, we'd be able to protect ourselves and be safe. I was so happy with them. They helped me with school work and were always there when I needed emotional support. It might be weird to say this, but I think I loved them more than I loved my real family. I was now a senior in high school. And I was graduating in just three days. My family decided to celebrate by cooking my favorite food, tortellini mac n' cheese, with cut up pieces of chicken. It was amazing. It was turning out to be the perfect day. We watched a movie, and Dad made these super good butterscotch milkshakes. It was getting late and I was starting to get tired. I told everyone goodnight and went to bed. I lied in bed for a bit just thinking. After everything that happened, I'm glad I'm here. It all turned out really nice. I turned on my side and closed my eyes. And then, one, two, three, four. Four bullets were fired. I opened my eyes to see my family members each with a bullet in there head. I fell to my knees and dropped the gun I had taken. Tears flooded my eyes. Why?! Why'd it have to happen again?! I thought it was finally over! I thought I was done! Why do I keep killing the ones I love in my sleep?!