348 and dropping

~1974, September 14th, Dear Dairy, Population: 343

Thank you for reading, the pic above is the image is of the hotel (The wrong name but except for that very similar to what I was going for!) /\ /\ /\

Old man Sirl would come to the bar at nine a clock every night except for Tuesday, when he would work late at the butchers. He took over that job after Joe McHale bit the dust, know one else was crazy enough to actually want the job, but then again father always said that there wasn't something quite right with old man Sirl. He said not last week 'stay away from that one son, he ain't quite right in the head. It's the ones that seem harmless that get ya'. But today is Friday and old man Sirl hasn't visited the bar since Monday. He was now on the missing persons list.

It was getting ridiculous, the missing people posters covering more wall than paint ever did. Every now and then we'd get a woman coming asking if we'd seen her kid. We never had. That in no way draws attention away from the fact that my counselor died two days ago. It was a heart attack.

*** That same day-with my counselor

My father's disgruntled face greeted me along with his hand, which slammed in to the side of my face as I came too. He grabbed me by the front of my shirt, hauling me to my feet. "get up you stupid cowered, go get help, now!" he bellowed at me, spit flying from his agape mouth.

So much for my well being after falling unconscious, such good father son bonding. " Are you simple boy. No your not, so get those damn legs moving" I didn't know which way to go. Outside? Upstairs? To the bar? Where? I didn't realize I was crying until my voice started to shake as I called out for help.

I ran out side grabbing arms, pulling at their long coats and gloved fingers. The tall Victorian houses looming over my head, I pressed my hand against the yellow peeling paint before I can steady myself enough to state running after people. "please" I was begging. I kept seeing his eyes, they were so white. I was Spluttering out words that even I couldn't describe "p,ple,please I, you, he's, he's dead. Please" I slip as I run to the next person, and my hand falls in to a murky puddle that sits patiently in the eroded pavement. I grabbed at someone's leather boot but they shook me off.

I couldn't see anything through my tears but I felt a hand pull me up and heard a voice of a young girl. The voice was familiar. The voice was Katiling Grace. "Is ok, shhhh they've taken him to the morgue, shhh junior. Its ok" she led me to the big chair in the foyer and I felt dizzy from crying. Why was I crying again? I couldn't remember. "what happened?" I ask Katelyn Grace as she wiped away my tears with her thump. She sighed and looked really worried " you don't remember?" she asked and I shook my head. She never answered my question just led me off to bed, telling me I needed rest.

*** present day (three days later)

I lay under the rumpled covers of my unmade bed still trying to get the images out of my head. I wanted to get up, but Katelyn Grace is having a lesson from her mama since she's homeschooled and father said he was to busy to talk to me. My other friends at school are, well, at school and I'm not I refuse to go. I watch as the little dust particles swirl around in the place were the light was shining, I have little holes in the ceiling and door of my room but when I tell father he says something like 'I'll do it later' or 'I'm really busy right now'

My door banged on the back of the wall making a little dent where the handle hit the wood of my wall. My fathers bulky shadow stood in the threshold "Get out of bed. I need you to fix the piano" the pianos not been working since Tuesday night, I think the keys are broken but father has been picky about letting me have a look, he thinks I'm going to break it. "Really?" I said in amazement partly at the fact that he was letting me look at his piano and partly because he looks like he's trying to cheer me up.

The grand piano is huge, made from sugar pine wood, and imported from north California. It was probably older than the hotel its self, I remember playing on this piano when I was younger, I was never any good but that didn't stop me from putting on 'performances' form who ever was staying at the hotel. I sat on the leather stool and pressed every key in tern, the odd one worked but in hole the keys were completely silent. The room was empty, my father gone to handle the bar. I want to take a peek under the soundboard to see if a wire's sprung loose or if something is blocking the notes from coming up.

The sound board is locked with a key that was lost before then piano ever came to be in our care. But I needed to look inside, my father finally trusted me enough to let me take a look at his most prized possession. I didn't want to let him down. So how could I get in? I could pick the lock, only don't you need a hair grip for that and even if I did have one on me I wouldn't even know were to start. Were does one learn to pick a lock? Are there lock picking classes? No, think junior, think. Could I smash it? No he would kill me, he loves his piano more than he loves me. I could use a crowbar. Yes it would possibly break it, but at least we would know why it wasn't working and it wouldn't be completely shattered.

There was one next to the fire that I use to push the wood to the back so it doesn't fall out after it caches alight. I pushed the crow bar in place and put all my weight on it so that I was latterly sitting atop of the crowbar. I see the wood splinter, then brake. I fall to the flaw as the crowbar comes through the broken wood and watch the lid swing open as I fall.

I found what was stopping the piano from working.

I also found Old Man Sirl...

Hey guys, soooo...

What do y'all think?

Do you think these are suicides?

If so, why are they doing this?

Do you think the population of the town is being murdered?

If so, who's the killer????

And what do you think of Katelyn Grace?

What do you think of his father?

And how do you think the next person should die?

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