The One Who Lived

Chapter 2

        I woke up the next morning with a deep and horrible feeling in my heart. It took me a while to realize that I was lying in my closet and that the night before wasn't a nightmare, and that it actually happened. iIstarted panicking and it felt like my chest was going to cave in. I quickly composed myself, took my earmuffs off and stood up to open the door, it was locked. I remembered that the night before my sister locked the door before... you know. I frantically started looking for something to unlock the door, I found a pen in one of the multiple bags of great aunt Jeanine, I quickly took it apart and stuck it into the doorknob, after a few tries, the closet unlocked and I was out. I hesitantly walked towards family room, I stoppd almost immediatly when I saw the blood, it was sprayed on the carpet and some on the walls and chair. I needed to go in the family room though, the only house phone was in there. I tried my best to memorize where the blood was, covered my eyes with my hands, and then ran for the phone, avoiding all the blood. I turned away from the blood that I saw and faced the kitchen, I grabbed the phone and dialed 911, I gave them all the information they neded and hung up. I went out the back door and went to go sit on the front step like the 911 person told me to, as soon as I sat down I started to bawl my eyes out. When the cops arrived they hugged me and told me that everything was going to be okay (even though I knew it wouldn't) . When we got to the police station they took me to a room and gave me a few magazines and then left for a few hours, i'm guessing to investigate. When someone finally came in the room to talk to me they asked all these questions about the night before, and I answered all the ones I could. At around 6:30PM a police woman came to get me and bring me to the front of the station, my grandpa was waiting for me there. I had only seen him a few times before that, a few times at Christmas and on his 65th birthday, my grandma died when I was 6, and he became much more distant after that. I was released into his custody, the drive back to his house was completly silent, I felt like he didnt even care. I spent two months with him and he still didn't say much, he apologized to me though, right before he passed away, I was with him at the time of his heart attack, I tried to save him but it was no use, he was already gone. I was sent into the foster care system and have been moved every few months, I think the worst part of the whole murder was that no one asked me how I was doing, they just assumed that since I wasn't balling my eyes out every few minutes, that I was perfectly fine, well I wasn't, I'm not ok.