Murderer.

“You better keep quiet about this, do you hear me? Or else you’ll be next.” His fingers tightened around my neck and I winced once I felt his fingernails dig into my skin, scraping it harshly.

“Yes,” I choke, tears filling my eyes once I risk a glance at my father's lifeless body sprawled on the cold hard floor. Blood is dripping out of his wound while his breathing is slowing down by the second, indicating his few last minutes of life.

I tap my foot nervously while I look around at my surroundings, the stench of sweat and fear tickle my nostrils. I lower my eyes down to my red sneakers trying to avoid eye contact with any of the people in the grey and dull room. My shirt’s neckline begins to feel itchy against the scarlet bruise on the side of my neck.

“Hannah Geralds?” A feminine voice calls, my eyes shoot up in alarm but quickly soften once I notice my name was being called from the young woman with sparkling blue eyes and nutty mahogany hair behind the desk.

“Yes?” I squeak but quickly cough to hide the fright in my voice.

Excruciating pain fills through my body once he pushes me against the wall. My back grinds against the wallpaper before I slide back down to the icy floor, my bare legs covering themselves with goosebumps. I attempt to crawl further away and closer to the pale house phone but his bloodshot eyes stare right through me, making my hands inch away from my only escape. He smirks once he notices my body tremble, his hands wrap around the knife and uses the tip of the blade to stroke my fathers cheek. He watches me, enjoying every second of my fear.

“Please! No!” My own voice wasn’t audible with my fathers screams, I bury my head into my legs pressing my hands against my ears trying to mute my fathers painful cries.

After long agonizing minutes, I could only hear my own heavy breathing from my raspy throat. I slowly lift my head out of my legs and stare at the bloody wooden floor. I look around the empty room and a photo on the floor catches my eye. I reach my shaky hand out picking it up and I automatically brush away the drops of blood, I stare quietly at the two people in the photo. 

My father had his arms around me pulling me closer for a friendly embrace, I happily smiled at the person behind the camera, the person who was also the murderer to my fathers death. I can hear my own heart hammering against my rib cage once I hear the distant sound of a shovel in my backyard.

“So Hannah, what can I do for you today?” A gentle voice brought me back to the painful reality.

My eyes are suddenly blinded by the bright rays of sunlight coming from the window. Hints of coffee and chocolate donuts fill my nostrils, I quickly look up meeting my emerald eyes with the bald man's friendly grey ones. I was now in an office, surrounded by hundreds of books and files neatly stacked.

“I’d like to report a crime,” droplets of sweat form on my forehead once I notice Officer James’ smile vanish.

“And on who would you like to report a crime on?” Officer James' eyes crinkle for a second, his wrinkles forming around his tired sorrowful eyes.

I stare into Officer James’ eyes trying to calm down my own breathing, I can feel my own chest relax once I hear my own silenced words escape my mouth.

“My brother.”