Carter's Beloved

M for Murder

I stood amazed. After a few minutes, sense came to me although my body felt numb. Brushing the dirt off, I slowly walked towards his house. Even though I knew that no one was home, the house felt strange and distant, like guarding a horrific secret.

I patted my jeans, till I found the keys to his house I have in case of emergency. Holding onto them, I walk towards the front door which is locked. Inserting the key and twisting it, after hearing the click of the lock opening, I push the door open which hits against the wall.

The house which I entered a few hours ago warm and welcoming, seems empty and mysterious; dark.  Stepping inside lightly, I feel a sudden surge of adrenaline, aware of what I'm about to do. Switching on the lights, I quickly rush into the living room, where sure enough the supplies are gone. 

With a throbbing headache and heart palpitations, I search the room while my mind is filled with a whirlwind of thoughts, all related to the incident which occurred. Father, what was he doing? Why did he wear that ski mask and where was he doing? Knowing the answer deep down, I still questioned.

He is about to commit a crime, I think again and again, but what? The question begins with no starting or ending. Instead, I'm confused and scared. Who is that man? I never knew him.

Leaning down on my wobbly knees, I look under the table and chairs for anything which can offer me an explanation, unaware of what I'm looking for. An answer, yes an answer, to explain what is going on and if anyone is in danger.

I should have followed him! No, that would be too dangerous. A battle rages in my mind, as I stand in the middle of the room, checking flowerpots to vases and other hidden places. Hoping Father doesn't come soon, I enter his room, small with a single bed and dresser placed. Rushing in, I check the drawers, careful to not let anything move from it's original place.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. Glancing around the room in anger, I try my hardest to find something. Anything to show his true intentions. Looking at the bed, I walk over and peer under the pillows, bed and blanket, to no avail. Groaning due to the lack of hints, I walk around the house, and after half an hour of rummaging around the house, I hit jackpot. 

In the small cupboard under the sink of the kitchen sink, I notice a small sack. Pulling it out, it weighs a pound. Praying that it's not filled with tools, I open it from the top and peer inside. Large black gloves, a few stacks of money, binoculars and keys. Grabbing this sack, I haul it out onto the living room table where I sit, scanning these items.

The stacks of money look crisp and new, like taken out of the bank a few days ago and the rest of the items, I cannot offer a logical explanation. Should I ask him about this? Should I confront him or ignore him? Should I report him to the police? The question looms over me, and I sit in the dim glow of the fluctuating light in the room.

Feeling anxious, I twist my hands and open my phone. Who should I call? What can any person do in this situation? I ask again and again, in a repeated cycle. Banging my head against the wall, tears collect in my eyes out of agitation. Rushing into the kitchen, I decide to not call the cops, hiding the sack back beneath the kitchen sack and closing it. 

I practically run outside the house, locking the door, desperate to get away from the criminal den. Standing in the cool afternoon breeze, I keep walking till I reach the bus stop. Sitting down on the bench, it takes me 10 minutes to realize the bus has already gone. After waiting around for a bit more, the bus comes and I sit down, glad to be taken away from the countryside.

Filled with anxiety and nervousness, I accept the truth. I need to confront Father one day, but when? The sun sets and soon I'm sitting in front of Axel,  telling the events of today. I watch his face expression change as the story goes on, from anger to disbelief.

"So, are you sure? That it was him, I mean." He says hesitantly. I nod, my face drained of emotion, clearly still in shock. Sipping my ice water, I watch as the waitress behind the shop counter, gazes at Axel, plainly smitten. She glances back to us, unaware of what we are talking about, but focusing on the back of     Axel's head. Rolling my eyes, I rest my head on my arms.

"Of course! Unless a criminal broke into his house, hid his supplies under Father's kitchen counter and ran back." I say sarcastically. Axel's sips on his slushie for a long time, deep in thought.

"Well the only conclusion I can come to is... he up to something." Axel glances up at me. Raising my head a little, I nod and sit back in my seat.

"Thanks for listening to me. I feel a little better now that I know someone believes me and doesn't think I'm crazy. I just can't...believe it." I finish. 

"I know, I know. But are you sure, you don't want to call the police?" Axel says.

'What am I going to say? I broke in my Father's house because I had a hunch that he's a criminal and found out that he's a possible murderer." I answer seriously, twisting my cup. I glance back at the counter where a new group of customers consisting of young college boys, flirting with the waitress.

"You can also report him anonymously that you saw him leaving his house in a black ski mask and would like the police to do a thorough check as you don't feel safe living in that area anymore." He says worriedly. I huff. Axel and his practical ideas.

“Damn you and your logical ideas.” I say darkly, drinking the ice water and slamming the cup down with such a force, like it had done me a personal wrong.

“What are you going to do?” He asks me.  I shrug, genuinely unaware of the future. On one hand, I could report Father to the police for suspicious behavior, and on the other hand I could not say anything and confront him.

“The worst thing is, the bones you gave me, I can’t find a DNA match so soon. A few more days till you find out if your Father killed your mother or not.”

“What if he did?” I say gravely, Axel looks up, bewildered.

“No, really. What if he killed Mother and I’ve been living with her killer for the past 9 years of my life?”

“I have no idea then. I’m so sorry, for… well everything. I wish I could do something to help you.” Axel says apologetically. Remaining quiet, I reach out for my phone as it vibrates for a notification.

“I’m so sorry. Maybe we should talk later?” the text reads. Father was always quick at apologizing. Shutting off my phone, I try not to think about it.

“I heard you got a girl.” Axel says, in a clear stab at trying to lighten the atmosphere. At the mention of her name, my eyes perk up and I awkwardly shuffle my feet under the wooden table, placed in front of us. Axel smirks knowingly and drinks his juice.

"Anyways thanks for listening to me. I was worried if no one listened to me, then I would surely lose my mind." I say gratefully. He nods.

"I get it. I'm sorry... for well, everything. I don't know how you feel right now but I'm always here to listen." He says politely, I nod. I push my glass ahead. After some time, we part ways and leave the shop. The waitress looks at us leaving with a sad expression, obviously feeling regretful that she couldn't get his number.

Walking out of the shop, it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the sudden white. It snowed when we were talking in the shop, and still is, so my face instantly feels numb, because of the icy sharp winds blowing.

The surroundings are filled with the soft powdery white snow, reminding me of a white wonderland. Stuffing my hands in my pocket, I walk on the sidewalk, wanting to go for a walk in the nearby park to enjoy the weather.

People rush around, clearly wanting to get home and avoid the snow. I stroll into the park, the surroundings lit up by the street lights, the sky black with clouds. The snow keeps falling and I walk along the path with trees on both sides

 My phone rings, and I hesitate to pick it up until I see the caller ID. 

"Hey, did I call you at the wrong time?" Madison asks me. I smile and look up, snowflakes whirling around me, I reach out to grab a snowflake, remembering what someone once told me if you caught a snowflake when it snowed, you'll get lucky.

"No it's fine. Did you need anything?" I ask gently, as I stand on the tips of my toes, wanting to catch one.

"No, I just wanted to say that I had fun last time, and we should get food again." She says timidly. I laugh, and finally I feel something wet and cold landing on my palm. I sand normally and stare at my palm excitedly, peering at the pristine snowflake.

"Totally." I agree with her, looking up at the sky. My mood lightens and suddenly the pit in my stomach disappears with the good weather and phone call. We chat for a while and I hang up. Walking ahead, I lean on the cold metal railings which separates the park from the river flowing nearby.

Despite the cold weather and strange occurrences, I feel at peace in this moment, breathing deeply. I smile.