Chapter eleven

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murderer’s point of view. 

earlier that night.

The car pulled up into the old, forgotten looking driveway of the house. A small smile curled on my lips, as i thought of what I was going to do. It gave me chills, just thinking of it. After everyone got out of the car, we all walked inside the house. As everyone held themselves to keep warm, I let my arms hang by my side, feeling the air feel me, giving me goose bumps everywhere. 

After everyone seperated into their own thoughts, and parted into different sections of the house, I took that as my escape. I took off my shoes, to keep from making noise. I walked outside, and i couldn’t help but laugh. I laughed to myself, keeping it quiet, although i continued to laugh the whole time i did this.

I grabbed the shovel, and carried it to the spot, and let it drop. The sound it made falling to the floor made the butterflies in my chest soar, just like the look on everybody’s face would. I stabbed into the ground with it, beginning to dig up the dirt. 

They would pay for not listening to me. They should have done as they were told, and played the game right. I left specific notes for them, I even choked some of them to warn them, but they didn’t get it. Why didn’t they want to win? I killed her to win, I killed her so i could be a winner, and everybody could be proud of me. Why didn’t they want that?

After i heaved her body out, i carried her to the side of the house. I was beginning to sweat, and i had to take off my gloves to wipe it off my forehead. I snuck her through the window, being careful not to let her thump. Once inside, i sat her up, and pinned my note to her. I stood in front of her, and smiled at my good work.

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