A Gunshot Started It All

How It All Began (Prolog) [1]

A/N The picture has nothing to do with the story I just thought it was pretty:)  Hope you enjoy the story!! 

The neighbors are arguing, again. It's none of my business, but they sound really mad. Honestly, I wish they'd just shut it already. I've had a long day at work, and I'm tired.

I wring my hands, deciding if I should go over it not. What if they get mad at me? I pace back and forth, thinking. After a minute's thought, I decided, what 's the worst that could happen and go over.

My noisy neighbors have a two year old daughter named Stacy. I, honestly, feel sorry for her. She doesn't need this. It's ten o'clock, and I can hear her crying. Poor kid.

As I walk up to the door, I notice some footprints in the mud going behind the house. Weird.

Just as I'm about to knock, I hear, "BANG!," I freeze. That sounded a lot like a gunshot.

'You're just being silly,' I tell myself, 'Someone probably just banged their fist on a table.' I take a deep breath, and knock.

"Uh, hello? Mrs. Laurens? I, uh, hello?" Stacy, their daughter, is crying even harder now. I feel really bad for that child.

Everything in the house is silent except for Stacy. She's screaming now. After a moment of hesitation, I try the door. It's unlocked. I step in, fearing the worst.

Everything was wrecked. Tables were turned over, lamps were shattered, and the wall had a hole in it. I shiver at the unsettling sight. I hear Stacy screaming upstairs. Slowly, I walk up the stairs.

I open the door to the nursery, and gasp in shock.
Both parents were dead. I stumble. There's no gun in sight. This was no suicide, this was murder.

I call the police, stuttering. They say they're on their way. I nod numbly.

Stacy is still crying. I look in her crib and gag. She has a bloody handprint on her face. I can't take this. I'm going to throw up. I turn, trying to find a trash can, but I end up hurling right on the carpet.

I grab Stacy and half run, half fall down the steps. I hit the fresh air just as the cop cars arrived.

I look up, "They're upstairs!"

A cop pulls out a gun and trains it on me. "Sir, please put your hands up." I rest the baby on the ground, and put my hands in the air. Another police officer comes and puts handcuffs on me.

"Sir, this is just a precaution," an officer says while picking Stacy up, "you will be put in a holding cell tonight, and questioned in the morning."

I nod, looking at little Stacy. A tear rolls down my eye. Her parents were just murdered. My heart aches for the little girl who's life just got ripped in half.

A/n
Thanks to my friend who totally re-did this chapter for me thx for reading this too.

Btw Cutebunnykos is editing this story for me (but she can't spell either) ANYWHO, check out her stories:))