A Mystery

I started this, fully intending to finish in one go, but it couldn’t seem to pull itself from my mind like I wanted to. So it’ll be continued. If you have a suggestion for a better title let me know.

I watched the lights flash off my Glock as I took aim at the motherfucker who had decided to kill my mother. His eyes were wide, shocked that I had come all the way to Hickory to find him. I breathed out through my mouth, allowing a surreal sense of calmness to encircle me. It steadied my hand and I no longer blinked.

“How did you find me?”

“It was simple,” I said. “It started the day I spoke to the police.”

“Why don’t you tell me the entire story?”

“No.”

“I want you to know before you kill me,” he said, backing away with his hands up.

“You’ll hear it soon. You’ll read it soon,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. He shuddered as I took aim at his right knee. He started blabbering about something for a moment and I listened before I pulled the trigger. He screamed and I took pleasure in that scream before taking off, purposely dropping my note.

None of this would have happened if I hadn’t entered the room the exact moment my mother died. A man stood, facing me with a mask on and his Glock in hand. He dropped the gun and sprinted out the window, towards the fire escape. I was screaming and crying so loudly over my mother’s body that the next door neighbor had walked in to check on us. The police tried to pin it on me, but my alibi checked out and all was well. At least that’s what they told me. They had never caught the guy because my mother was  a prostitute.

I could never remember much about my mother’s attacker, but his pale blue eyes. It was like looking into ice and that ice had started burying into my soul.

As soon as I could I got emanicipated from my grandparents and moved to a small apartment close to the college I wanted to attend. I never got in, having to drop out of school to afford my apartment, but I started studying at the library. I was there so often that I was offered a job.

I had been there for ten years before I saw the man again. At first I wasn’t sure. He was the same height, sure. I hadn’t seen his entire face, so every man that tall scared me a little, but his eyes were those same ice blue. Ice blue that spread cold throughout my body. I followed him from the library until I knew what he had done, what he could do. I caught him…..

(To be continued).

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About blackwinterrosethorn

I am an artist and a writer whose living in Virginia. I go to Hollins University and I am a double minor in Creative Writing and Music. I've been writing for about eleven or twelve years. I've been singing forever and I have been drawing and painting for four or five years. I am open to doing commissions and collaborative pieces. View all posts by blackwinterrosethorn

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