Go To Sleep

Chapter 8

Jeff the killers point of view

It seemed that the police were too busy to come after me after all. I stayed at the mans house for way too long waiting for the cops to arrive at the scene so I could make my daring escape for some excitement. But they never came. The neighbors didn't seem to hear the mans girly yells anyway. I decided to kill some time by raiding the guys fridge and wine cellar. Score.

I stuffed a wine bottle in my hoodie pocket and started to drink the other in my hand. Although I was 17, I could handle my alcohol fairly well, the cops wouldn't come anyway. I roamed his house until I stumbled (literally) into a room full of pink. 'Oh god' I thought disgusted at the sight of My little pony, Barbie, and Justin Beiber as it covered every possible inch of the room. I stepped inside taking it all in slowly, not wanting to overwhelm myself with so much gay crap. Did this guy have a daughter or something? I walked over to the dresser, half tripping over the Barbie rug, and noticed the picture frame of a little girl holing hands with the fat man and a slender lady with big blue eyes. She looked like her.

The little girl looked so happy, with the biggest smile a little 6 year old can handle. A gap in between her two front teeth, and her two dirty blond pigtails flying in the air, she looked like she was dancing. Perhaps she died of a horrible accident. A car crash? Terrible fall off a bridge to raggedy boulders and heavy rapids below? I laughed at my creativity and took another big gulp of the bottle. Letting the liquid burn straight down my parched throat. Then I felt a short twinge of guilt flood through me ... For like two seconds, then I sent the photo flying into the air with a quick wave of my hand into a wall, smashing the glass into many fragments. I stumbled out of the disgusting room and into the living room with an 18" flat screen T.V sitting against the wall.

Kicking my feet up onto the coffee table, I switched on the T.V to [adult swim] where I watched Family Guy, Robot Chicken, and American Dad until my consciousness faded to black.

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I gained consciousness when I felt the bottle in my hoodie fall out of place and onto the hard wood floor with a CRASH. 'Dammit' I thought to myself as I stretched my tired body, and held my head, a strong pain settled in making me cringe. I looked around the room and noticed daylight coming in through the open window I had crawled into. 'Double dammit' I yelled in my head. I headed for the back and glanced at the clock be the kitchen door. It was about five in the morning. Most people would be sleeping right about now, but I was running out of time. Luckily, it was a Sunday. Everything was probably settled at the orphanage by now, I hope. I rolled my shoulders and cracked my neck, the popping sent a wonderful sensation up my spine and back.

What would be quicker? The front, or back door? I let my hand slip from the door handle as I held my knife in my now stretched out hoodie pocket. I couldn't just barge down there, what if they had already taken the car? They most likely checked the license plates by now. I poked my bulged pocket on my black pants where my keys were. I wouldn't be able to drive that beauty anymore, as sad as it was. I let out a loud groan and punched a nearby wall.

How would I make it out of here? I wouldn't get far on foot, it's pure streets and houses here! The woods were more than fifteen miles away! I walked into the mans garage and fumbled for the light switch and flipped it up. The light filled the small garage. A white 2013 Volkswagen beetle came into view an I sighed and crossed my arms. At least the windows were slightly tinted, not to my liking but I couldn't complain, especially now.

I scratched my forehead and headed inside to search for the keys.

***My deepest apologies to all the Justin Beiber fans out there that might have been offended by this chapter. (Not that I care really but whatever) also for the (maybe?) short chapter...

(/•__•)/ come at me bro.***