WIP// M.I.S.S.I.N.G// Story

Not A Suicide

           It all started about 2 years ago, when my Grandmother on my Mom's side died. Everyone was upset by the news, but, it was a massive heart attack, what could we do? A heart attack... even at age 13, I had a gut wrenching feeling that it was not simply a heart attack. But, as everyone seemed distressed enough, I decided to keep quiet.
           About 2 months later, my aunt and uncle, on my Mom's side, died after a car ran them off the road and pushed them into a reservoir. There were scratches and claw marks on the leather seats and walls of the car. They both drowned before help arrived. At hearing the news, I had that same, gut wrenching feeling that this was not simply an accident. I would have said something, but I felt that my suspicions would further darken the mood.
         Not a month later, though, and a grim newsflash came on TV.
         "Couple In Boston Along With Their 4 Month Old Child Die In House Fire"
          That was when I thought for sure that something was fishy. Aunt Sally and Uncle Tony, my Mom's brother, had died along with a cousin I didn't even know I had. At first, my mom tried to hide the news from me.
          "Jasper, honey?" My mom called from downstairs. At this call, I had that same, gut wrenching feeling that someone, somewhere, had died.
          "Yeah, mom?" I said, solemnly. I was already prepared for the news.
          "I'm afraid we won't be able to spend thanksgiving at uncle Tony's house, tomorrow," I frowned. I hadn't seen the news yet, so, for even a split second, I wanted to think that my family wasn't dead. I really tried. But that awful, gut wrenching feeling, was blaring alarms inside.
          "Why are we canceling so last minute?" I said. Even though I already knew, I still wanted to confirm my beliefs.
           "Well," my mom started. After a few seconds of silence, I knew that she knew that I knew.
          "What killed Aunt Sally and Uncle Tony?" I said. I instantly regretted saying that, as, instead of a response, I was met with a faint sound of crying.
I looked up the news on my phone, and, sure enough, I was met with an article that confirmed my worries. But, to my dismay, I read a passage near the bottom. That passage stirred up that gut wrenching feeling once again.
          "This incident has been marked as an accident. 'Due to a oven malfunction, the wooden cabinets ignited and spread to the rest of the house,' officials say"
          This was not an accident.
          Over the course of the next year and a half, the rest of my family on my mom's side died, in what were seemingly accidents. Accidents, until, my great uncle took a shotgun to his head. That's right, my mental health activist, suicide prevention worker great uncle took his own life. At this point, my mom was generally withdrawn from activities. She, a former hard worker, took vacation days and sick days regularly and half-assed the world she did do. She was generally unresponsive to everyone, even my dad, who tried to talk to her. It was rare that she would even go outside.
Soon, my dad became depressed too. He started drinking, at first sparingly, but it quickly escalated into him rarely being seen sober. The first time he punched me was when I spilled my water on the floor. He punched me square in the nose, causing it to bleed and bruise for the next couple of days. These turned into regular beatings, ranging from only bruises and scratches to broken and fractured bones. He stopped driving me to school, and so I would have to limp 3 miles in the snow every morning. When my classmates asked what happened, I would always tell them that I had fallen from a tree or been injured during hockey practice. This worked for a little while, but some of the teachers must have caught on. Last week, the school counselor called in my dad for a parent teacher meeting. I don't know what he told them, all I know is that he got himself off the hook. I thought I could tough through it by myself until... until last night. There were sirens blaring, red and blue lights were flashing against my dew covered windows. Blood splatted all over the pavement, that... that... I knew that what I was looking at was, undeniably, not a suicide.
           "M- Mom?"