A Strange Turn of Events

My eyes scan the dimly lit hall way, taking in the warm floor boards and personal memorabilia scattered over the walls. An oriental carpet leads me towards the end of the house. When you’re alone every noise, every thump, click and screech is aplified. With each unidentified sound my hearts speeds. The only reliable echo I can hear is the steady thump of my footsteps against the soft carpet. First my sister, then my brother and now both my parents. Death effects people in so many strange ways. Some mourn their loss, others lock themselves away and some seek revenge. I feel the lump grow in my throat and a thick layer of tears forming over my eyes. Each one slips out and slides down my face as if they have a preconcieved path mapped out, with their final destination being the ground. I take a deep breath and wipe away the tears, placing a hand over my heart and willing it to steady. My scratchy denim jacket hangs heavy on my shoulders as if it were pulling me towards the ground. My hands press deep into the pockets, my left fingernails dig into my palm and my right hand clutches my weapon. But both my legs push onward, through the end door frame and into the kitchen. I raise my hand to block the glare of the neon globes from the industrial white tile. A musty smell assaults my nostrils, as I take in the room. Olive green benches outline the small space, surrounding a disgusting orange dining table. With her back to me, sits a frail old lady, her loose curls surrounding her head like a balloon. But her vulnerable appearance doesn't fool me. I know better. She is the one responsible for all unexplained murders in my family and now im going to be respondible for erradicating hers.