The Old Voice

Chapter Two

I was sitting on my bed, reading, in my room. Blinds open. Sun pouring in. And the scene changes.

The door swings opens, and Amy stands there.

"Mom needs help." is all she says.

But the look on her face says more. I run follow her out the door, and run through the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. A man is on the table, lying still, his eyes closed.

I hold back my scream. Did my mother kill a man?

We stare at each other, then the man, and back each other. We pause. Silence. Then she speaks.

"I thought I could save him." She looks horrified. Her eyes water, her face is pale. Her hand is covered by the table. The man is face up.

"How do I know that?" My voice is thick. I hold in my tears, my horror, my confusion. They whirl around in my stomach like a tornado.

"What?" She whispers, her eyes threatening to release the water that we could not handle at the moment. "You think I...killed him?"

I don't speak. I don't know what to believe. I go to my room as she and Amy takes the man to the hospital. I just go to sleep.

When I woke, it took me a moment to understand why. A man was shaking me awake. He wore a police uniform.

"Sir?" I had asked, my voice groggy from sleeping.

"You're going to have to come with me."

"My mother?"

"Is fine. But she may be in some trouble."

I followed him outside, and tried getting into the back of his police car. He told me to ride in the front so nobody thought I was in trouble. I remember hiding my face that day.

We got to the police station, and my hypothesis was becoming true.

"You believe my mother killed that man."

"It's a thought." He said. "What are you suppose to believe when a woman with a crying little girl walks into the hospital with a deceased man?"

"You believe what you're suppose to believe. That she isn't safe."

"We haven't accused your mother just yet. She's only a suspect.

"The man was last seen in your house, and we didn't see a knife wound in his back before."

"But, Sir, wouldn't there be blood? Her clothes, her hands, the table he was lying on?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out."

I was there all night, and almost all of the next day. Amy and I got home at one, but mother had to stay for more questioning.

I made Amy something quick to eat for breakfast, and then I went to take a nap.

When I woke up, my light was on, which was pretty weird, because I'm pretty sure I fell asleep with my light off.

Maybe Amy just came in and forgot to turn off the light, I thought.

My door slowly begun to open, and the fear escalated up my throat. I didn't see anyone come through the door, but I watched it shut, and I knew, deep in my gut, that I was not alone.