Lizzy's Monologue

Early that morning, newly hired park ranger, Jennifer Flores, stuffed a banana into the blender and mixed up a high energy chocolate drink. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her face was clean and free of makeup. She was dressed in a black jogging outfit that hugged her body tightly and showed off her shape. She poured her drink into a glass and guzzled it down like she was in a beer chugging contest with her sorority sisters.

So much pain, so much blood. Everything was fuzzy, people looked like splotches blocking my vision. The yelling. It’s getting louder. I look for light, but only darkness is here now. There. Under the door. I try my hardest to lift the fallen door, but a shooting pain propels up my leg so I stop. “

Father’s eyes remained fixed on his daughter’s tear trails and bloody bubbling nose. His gaze grew pained and glassy. I know that man. He shook his head of grey hair and came to. The man crouched and calmly stroked Sybil’s brunette curls. How he missed her frizzy halo during dark dawns when she woke.

“My father killed my mother,” he says eventually. It’s horribly casual, the way the words tumble out of his mouth, but he can’t think of any other way to say them.

The sound of the sirens was so powerful it seemed like a rifle went off. Seconds later the police came and surrounded us, but I ran like I was on in a marathon, sprinting toward the finish line. The police were right on our tails, but suddenly the S.W.A.T team came. We were racing around like we were wild animals. It was dusk and all we saw were policeman shining their flashlights at us. The light was so bright it was like we were looking right into the sun. Then everything disappeared and everything went black.

“They let me out after I proved I was good. I had to kill everyone that was necessary in order to be with your dad because I loved him first. I knew him first too. And now it’s your turn.”

He smiled at the man behind Ally. “Wassim tells me you heard her confess to killing him.”

“So you were reading about power systems for the fun of it?” I asked, gawking. He was so strange.

I ripped the front door open and ran to my room, thankful that my brother Travis didn't make a surprise visit today. I rifled through my dresser, looking for my silver savior. I found what I was looking for and ripped off my jacket and backpack, and tossed them behind me. My jeans went next, the thoughts racing through my head almost unbearable.

“Is that so,” i nearly felt surprised of not having to yell those few word. Time dragged on while getting real awkward.

“No, you can’t, I-I didn’t do anything wrong. Please!” my voice rose, full of terror and regret. I looked over at the royal family, to the girl in the silver and purple dress, as if she could help me out of this situation. She simply blinked back at me. Rage churned in my stomach.

An object whistled close to my ears and exploded, glass against metal. A siren wailed. I heard feet-heard,

“Then, why are your fingerprints on the weapon? No one else touched the candlestick. Why did you kill her?”

What seemed like mere seconds later, cops busted through the door, showering splinters of wood through the threshold. Their gun were trained on me but I stood there, as still as the lifeless bodies at my feet. The bloody knife I held in my hand was a testimony to the crimes that had been committed, whose victims lay at my feet.

“…I need your help with catching my murderer his name is Jim Whitlock. Do you know him?”