I awake with a start. I feel different. Tomorrow is the day of my friend Zachariah's autopsy. Last week, on the seventh day of November, he faced a gruesome death. Someone living in our small town of Willow Grove set out to murder him.
He was on a boat on the lake, going to escape from his abusive parents by moving cities. While on the water, a gunshot in the woods was heard town wide. A resident living nearby was also taking a boat ride, when she saw Zachariah drop in his boat, motionless. She called the police, but when they arrived to the location of the gunshot, no one, nor a sign that anyone had been there, was present. It was at that moment that we knew, Willow Grove would no longer be a quiet, peaceful town.
The body was being stored on the bottom floor of the police station for examination. The autopsy would take place tomorrow. For now, however, my five friends and I were meeting at Gramps, the small hub in the middle of town. It is open twenty-four hours, making it an easy meeting place. The six of us are weird, but we can be helpful when needed.
First there is Susan. A short, blonde, beautiful girl that every boy at Willow Grove High School has a crush on. She is the smartest and most helpful out of us.
There is also Alyssa, Zachariah's twin sister. They were very close as siblings, and she has been threatening everyone because of her brothers death. She is a red-haired, blue-eyed, sixteen year old girl. She isn't very smart, but can be a strong tool in situations like these.
The third of us is Nick. He is a tall, skinny boy with strawberry blonde hair and hazel brown eyes. He is smart at times, and not so much at others. He was on Zachariah's baseball team. They were closer than brothers.
Next is me, Jake. I am a middle height, overweight boy with blonde hair and baby blue eyes. I am the genius in the group, but act mental the majority of the time. Zachariah and I weren't very close, but would always be there for each other when we needed someone.
Sara is the awkward one in the group. She is always shy around people she isn't comfortable with. She isn't very good looking, but has a great mind. She didn't know Zachariah. She is only helping because we are her only friends.
Finally, there is my sister, Ansley. She is actually pretty good looking, even though I would never admit it. She is the youngest of the six. She was Zachariah's girlfriend. At fifteen years old, the death of her eighteen year old boyfriend has been very difficult for her to deal with. She is a very emotional person, with blonde hair and blue eyes.
"Who do y'all think did it?" Nick asked.
"His parents?" I suggest. "They were the reason he was running away in the first place. It was a perfect opportunity for them to kill him."
"Yeah, but it doesn't seem like they would do it. It could possibly be someone that no one knows. Someone that just moved here from out of town," interrupts Ansley. "What time is it getting to be anyway?"
"Ten til eleven," Alyssa says. "Maybe we should all head home, and we can think about it overnight and share our opinions tomorrow at school."
Nobody objects, so we grab our stuff and head out.
Ansley and I are walking home, having regular conversation and talking about normal stuff, when suddenly she stops and tells me to be quiet. I do as she said, and listened closely. In front of us, not too far, was a man. He looked shady, so we decided to stay out of his way. As he got closer, we noticed a mask on his face. We hide, worried about what he might do to us, and watch him. He passes us, and is walking East, holding some sort of bag. The only thing East of here is the police station. He was probably an undercover cop, so we continue walking home. We get to our house, settle in to bed, and go to sleep.
Today is November fifteenth. The day of the autopsy. It is all anyone can talk about at school. My dad was the one doing the autopsy, so Ansley and I would get to watch. We try to carry out our day as normally as possible, but that is difficult to do with all the conversation of Zachariah that was being struck. At 3:00, we would leave school and head to the police station to watch the examination. Just seven more hours.
The final bell rings, so everyone packs their stuff and leaves school. Ansley and I meet in the lobby and walk together to the station. About a mile away, we see that same man with the mask, struggling to put something in the trunk of his car. I go to ask him if he needs help, and with a startled sort of reaction, he quickly threw it in the back seat and sped off. There is something up with that man, but that is for another day. Today, it was about the autopsy of Zachariah Williams' body.
We meet Dad at the door. Instead of greeting us, however, he seems troubled. We ask him what is going on, and he says, "well, see for yourself." He leads us to the autopsy room, and points to the freezer where the body was being kept. However, there was no body in the freezer. Just a bag of old rotting animal parts. Someone had came to the station the previous night and stolen the body. Ansley glanced at me. I glanced at her. We were thinking the same thing. That man, the one with the mask and huge bag, had cane here the night before and stolen Zachariah's body. We watched him. And we didn't even attempt to stop him.
