I remember every excruciating detail about how my parents were murdered. Heck, I was there on Halloween night, two months ago. I was lying on my back and throwing a ball toward the ceiling when I heard a thump downstairs in the kitchen. A few seconds later, I heard another thump. I sat, frozen on the edge of my bed.
"Mom?" I called, slowly starting to get up and grab a backpack so I could throw some things into it.
"Max! Don-" Her voice was cut off. I had three shirts, a pair of shorts, and two pairs of jeans. I snatched up my phone and wallet and threw them in with the clothes before zipping up the backpack and putting it on. I quietly snuck out of my room and to the top of the stairs. The door was only about three yards away from the bottom and it was wide open. I could easily get past the kitchen.
I slid down the railing, knowing that the stairs would creak, and landed silently on the balls of my feet. I was halfway to the door when my curiosity got the best of me. I looked through the archway to the kitchen and saw a man with his back toward me, crouched over. I gasped and then quickly threw my hand over my mouth. It was too late though; the murderer stepped away from my parents and stared at me. I looked from his sinister eyes to my parents. There were steak knives punctured into the left side of their chest, where their hearts were. They were propped up against the island counter, leaning against each other. They each had a smile carved into their face like a Jack-O-Lantern. I felt tears burning my eyes before I looked back at the murderer.
"Happy Halloween."
