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Short Story

Essay by   •  December 11, 2012  •  Essay  •  4,081 Words (17 Pages)  •  1,470 Views

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Tristyn Gunter

Eng.4B

Short Story

I stand in front of the news on TV at age five watching them pull my mothers and fathers car out of the Indian Hill River; they say that it was a suicide. Tears run down my face and I fall to my knees. My hands are shaking uncontrollably. The clock strikes the hour as I jump awake slamming my knee on the bottom of my desk. Sweat is running of my forehead for my dream, no not my dream my nigh mare. I stand up slowly looking down at my science homework about time travel; I roll my eyes as I walk out of my cold dark bedroom.

I carry on with my normal day but I could not stop thinking about that awful dream I had, I think that it may have been a flashback but I was too young to remember the accident. I decide to go to the library to see investigate. The library is pretty busy for it is a Friday evening. I can here people whispering and small children laughing as the librarian is ready them a silly story. I put my stuff down on a small table in the corner of the room than my investigation begins. First off I start by getting news paper clippings from that tragic day, as I am looking at them I noticed that three days before my parents died a young man was found dead by two police officers for Indian Hill County. They never found the killer and there was no real evidence found at the crime scene. My stomach makes a load growl but I ignore the nauseous feeling. As I start reading about my parents I notice something very odd the same two cops that found the young boy was the same cops that worked on my parent's case. I start to read more an the accident the paper said that the two cops John Brown, and Mike Smith came to the conclusion that it was I suicide. "I never new my family not to be happy people" I whisper to myself in a shaking voice. I decide I would so a brief search on the two police officers. First I look up Mike Smith, I found that he has new partners all the like and that almost all of the cases he has stumbled upon have ended going cold and never solved. Then I looked up my father's childhood friend. "This is odd" I say softly there is almost nothing on the officer. All I was able to find was my parents case was the last case he ever worked on and then he disappeared as if he fell of the face of the world.

At about 10:30PM I decide it is time to leave I walk slowly out of the library thinking hard about what I have read I didn't even here the librarian tell my to have a great night as I walked out of the massive oak doors.

I get home and lay in bed restless; when I finally fall asleep I have a dream, or what I like to call one of my sleeping flashbacks I am standing in the kitchen as a young five year old girl wondering why my mother would never open the blinds, and always looking over her shoulder. I start saying the rules in a dime gloomy voice "I am not aloud to go outside by myself, I am not aloud to open the blinds, I am not aloud to answer the door, I am not aloud to stay home alone even if my mother is going over to my neighbors across the street, and I am not aloud to stay the night at friends houses." I am still just standing there trying to think back when my mom put all these rules into place but as a small child I could not remember until it hit me, it started when they got home from their weekly date night three days before they passed away. I start to run through the house searching for my mother and father but they are not anywhere to be found then all the lights go out and I am falling off a cliff into the Indian Hill's River and right before I hit the water I wake up throwing myself straight up breathing hard and almost in tears.

When I get out of bed and I run to my garage. I stop abruptly just staring at the boxes remembering I told myself I would never go through the boxes because they will bring back so many memories but I know it is for a good cause so I take a small step back and I take a few shallow breaths than I find the box that says office stuff I pull it down and take another shallow breath; as I open it I all kinds of papers with my parents name on them I feel my eyes start to swell with tears. "Okay get back on track Jasmine" I say over and over again. Finally I found the old rolodex my parents had to hold all their numbers in, I think about when I was younger and I would sit in the office with my father and I would act like I was a secretary and I had to find numbers for my daddy as he would look at my and laugh than put my mothers huge coke bottle glasses on me. I look through it hoping there may be a number that might help me find out if my parents really killed themselves or if it was something more. Finally I find a number that says John Brown's mother Martha, my face lights up as I know if she is still alive I might be able to find John Brown. I run into the house with the rolodex I flop down on my couch and starts to dial the number, my hands start to shake as I wait for someone to answer the phone, I ended up finding myself holding my breath till a faint voice answers.

"Hello Martha Brown speaking who is this"

"Hello my name is Jasmine Miller I am looking for John Brown he worked on the death of my parents Mitch and Shane Miller I need his help." There was a long pause than her soft voice finally said

"Oh yes dear I remember you, it has been so long since I have seen you."

"I am sorry but I don't really remember you" I say in mono toned voice.

"It is okay honey I don't expect you to, and so what did you need again sweet child?"

"I need to talk to your son, is that okay?"

"Oh darling he is locked up at Indian Hills mental institution, after your parents death he could not handle it anymore and one day just snapped." There was another pause from her, "I will give you the number if you want I know that on Fridays and Sundays he allowed to have visitors."

"Thank you so much I would love that." I hung up the phone with a large smile on my face knowing that I am actually getting somewhere on my investigation. That night I fell asleep quite fast for the lack of sleep I have had in the last couple of days.

When Friday rolled around I asked my friend Allie if she would go with me to talk to John Brown. She agreed and thirty minutes later we here on our way to Indian Hill Mental Institution. We pull up to the building and notice how large it really was, I have only seen it in pictures never up close. I parked than we walked into the

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