The Rise of the Grim Reaper: Sylvan Sasha Whitney

Chapter Two: Freedom Clock

Chapter Two:

Freedom Clock

MY HOUSE, IN SIMPLEST terms, was a fucking mess. Blood was everywhere, blood splatters painting the wooden floors of the entryway hallway despite the fighting having taken place within the dining room. Furniture was overturned, scattered pieces of broken wooden chairs scattering the floor. Food still sat on the table, albeit scattered about the table just as messily as the floor, but still there nonetheless.

The remnants of the last holiday with my family, my last Whitney family Christmas. It was as though a shadow had been cast over my home, it felt cold and empty within unlike its usual warmth. Perhaps it was due to my mama dying, her warmth would never fill our home and hearts again.

I didn't bother to lock the door, barely bothered to close it. It all seemed pointless now, seeing as I was a fifteen year old orphan with no way to keep my own home. Not to mention that I was on trial for murder, I would more than likely never see my home again in the coming days. Even I could tell, after having that rather pleasant talk with my lawyer.

With a sigh I ignored the chaos that coated my home, wandering down the hall to the bedrooms in search of sleep that would no doubt elude me. My room was small, only enough space for a twin sized bed a dresser and a small desk. The walls were bare, the only decoration was the navy blue comforter that covered my bed. Without another thought I stepped onto the white carpet of my room, leaving a trail of light red footprints to my bed before I plopped down.

Sleep swept over me surprisingly quickly, only to drown me in the black depths of endless nightmares.

A shuffling noise made its way to my ears. I paid it no mind, rolling over in my bed in an effort to escape the noise that threatened to awake me. Vaguely aware that the dried blood covering me was beginning to smell I scowled, burying my nose deep within my covers to avoid the stench. After moments of silence I jolted awake, covers torn away from me as words groggily made their way into my ears.

"Whitney! How could you just sleep here like this, leaving your front door unlocked after what just happened?" A masculine voice called, a familiar face hovering above me.

Payne, I groggily recognized as I rubbed at my face. The police officer stood before me in his uniform, as usual, only this time a rather angry look graced his features. His face was rather flushed, knuckles pale and white as he gripped my navy comforter as though he was strangling it.

I opened my mouth to speak, only mumbling incoherent strings of Russian in my sleepy state. Payne made no move to speak, only cocking a golden eyebrow down at me as his scowl deepened.

"What are you doing here?" I finally asked, standing up as I stretched.

He tossed my blanket back onto my bed, the bed now smeared with stains of all kinds. "I am your temporary guardian, due to your lack of relatives, the only reason why you were allowed back in your house. I have to come check up on you periodically. Also, I came to tell you of your court date, of course. It'll be held within two weeks, on a Wednesday."

Now that woke me up. "What? They've already decided on a date, so soon?" I asked, turning to look up at him in confusion.

Payne nodded, his blond hair shaking with the movement. "Your case is rather high profile for our town, it was decided that completing your trial as soon as possible would be for the best."

The best for who? Me or the politicians who run the city? It seemed as though no one in power cared for my case, only wished for it to disappear with an impeccable speed.