Annah

I bustled my way through the crowded hallway, my bedroom to the left, the only place I wanted to be. Yet no one, not one person would let me in. Tears sprung to my eyes as everyone stared at me, then back to the body. Slumped on a pile on the floor was the body of Frederick castor. The man about town, the king of callington, or to me dad. Although he was not my real father. He was the only one I knew. He raised me, well, watched my mother raise me then when she passed watched me raise myself. I don't understand why I was still in his custody. "Annah! Annah, what has happened, what did you do" my aunt Nora screams from the kitchen. And the truth is, I cannot bring myself to say it. My name is Annah Blair Castor, I am 17 years of age. And just killed the one person I ever called father. What for? You may ask. And the honest truth is greed.

June 17 1995,

My mother once told me this was the day she lived for. The one day that made scence in her short life. The dat, not only i, but my sister Ava and brother Elliot were born. Triplets, the first born at callington state birthing centre. The only set from csbc to see beyond there tenth birthday. Fast forward 7 years from this date exactly is the day in which my mother passed away. The day in which my siblings life and mine crumbled beneath us. I remember waking up that morning, my brother and I decided to sneak up to Ava's room so we could all be together when mum came to give us our mass of presents we got every year. We all lay in Ava's bed, talking about what we might get. "I bet I got the new Malibu Stacey doll with the Malibu castle" I pipe up.

"Ooh, hope I got the same" squeals Ava.

"Oh barf" laughed Elliot "I want the new hot wheels Dino circuit"

We wait patiently for mum to come up. Finally after nearly 45 minutes we hear the creak of the stairs, knowing full well it's mum and dad with our presents. We all of a sudden the door swings open. A man in a ski mask and full black suit stands before us. Hands us a note and we never see this man again.

'Your mother was a lovely women, but she did something unforgivable. Something no one could ever forgive her for. Therefore we took her. She is now dead. Happy birthday munchkins' munchkins? Munchkins? Only one person ever called us munchkins, dad. Did dad do it? The next couple of weeks were a blur. With the funeral and all the family being here. The police. Everything.