The Carter Hollow Murders

Bryn Hafer - Challenge Three

User: CraZCanuck

'We're all herded in here like sheep...' I think to myself, staring around the cramped gymnasium. We're packed in like sardines in a can; not really much room to do anything.

Really, this murderer, whichever psycho it is that is still here, has ample opportunity, if they're cunning, to kill. There's such a wall of kids that they could probably get away with it.

My mind cuts itself off, and I find myself thinking about Hamilton. I just find it so hard to believe that someone could willingly, intentionally take a life. What is it in them that drives them to such sadistic ends? Is it pleasurable for them? Is it simply sport? What do they get out of it, other then attention and a grieving family calling for their head?

Question after question after question, until I've driven myself crazy trying to figure this whole thing out. I just don't get it.

Who has a reason to go out and start killing people? What's their reasoning? Their motive?

I sigh to myself. 'At this point, I just want to go home...' I want so desperately to leave. Get away from all this murder and awfulness.

I am sitting in the corner of the room, because I can't trust anybody anymore. And if I'm fully surrounded by people, I'm fully surrounded by possible killers. So I sit there, patiently. Waiting for this hell to end and us to go home.

But time after time, my thoughts drift back to Hamilton. I can't escape them. They told us that she died in prison. Slit her own throat.

"What an awful way to go...." I mutter. "I suppose, an awful death for an awful murder..."

I look up at the fully-functioning lights. 'Please, please, PLEASE, do not go out again.'

It's funny, how blissfully ignorant some of these kids are. I'm watching a whole group chat amongst each other. Normally, like everything's alright and their lives aren't in peril. And I want to scream to them. Somehow remind them that, at the rate that these killers are killing, they're probably talking to one of the psychos.

'How can they be SO cheerful? Over the course of only several days, over a dozen kids and faculty have died!!'

Realizing that I can hear my own heartbeat thumping with terror, I slowly relax my breathing. And I force myself to stop thinking about our imminent doom.

"It'll be alright..." I whisper to myself. "They'll slip up; get caught at some point.... And hopefully I'll still be alive to see it."

Sitting there in the corner, I feel a small ray of hope. 'I've brought down one murderer... I can do it again.'