Thank you so much for showing interest in this story! Unfortunately, it's the not the best summary so I don't know if it will get that many viewers... So thank you! Each chapter will be someone's POV, and the chapter will be the emotion that that character will feel that chapter. Such as hatred, guilt, depression, ECT... This is a pretty heartbreaking adventure that you're about to experience, so enjoy!
Jazz
Guilt stretched like a thick quilt around me. I took a deep shaky breath trying not to lead out a god awful sob. I was sitting on couch trying to watch T.V, but apparently that's not going to happen. Little water pricks started to form in my eyes, but I held them back. Things had been hard since Christmas Eve, when the worst happened.
"Jazz." Croaked a sad little voice, I looked up to see mom on the stairs in her nightgown. Her hair a mess, no makeup. "Can you call Dr. Johnson for more pills?" I really hated, but I have to say yes. It helps her sleep most of the day, but the bad part is where she is allergic to Zinc 000.2 percent of the ingredients. It makes her twitch and scream when there is a pimple. To make it simple, it makes her berserk.
"Sure mom." I said, with a sad smiled. She went back upstairs, to sleep more. I went to the basement-the basement. I secretly hid more pills there so I wouldn't go out of this house. The least thing I want to see or hear people. Each and every person is a suspect. It could be a cash register, our neighbor. Whoever it was, it did a damn good job covering up its tracks.
Tucker for some reason keeps blaming himself. Danny invited him over the day it happened, he declined. He says if he was there, he would saw the person and prevented it. I've find that depressing, that he would beat himself up on a situation that he didn't even cause or do.
The hard thing was he cannot let the subject go. I mean the civil thing that he could do was at least not talk about it.
"I'm so sorry." He'd would say over and over. It really gets annoying and brings your mood to decay. I try to ignore the subject, I really do. But, then he makes my mood collapse. For that behavior, I avoid him. And then there was Sam. When the undesired event took place, she turned gruesome and unpleasant. Sam was now obsessed with the dead. Always at graveyards saying songs about 'he will come back!' and 'I'm not afraid!' very serious and alarming I would have to say.
His funeral is next week; all of Amity Park is coming. The only information we told them that he was killed in an accident. They knew it was more than that, they had the pieces but they can't fit them together. I am somewhat happy and somewhat not. My brothers killer might be at his funeral, smiling. It makes me sick. I will look at the faces.
To look for that smirk.