Sleeping's for the Dead

"Where were you between 2AM and 4AM yesterday morning?" The policeman is looking slightly agitated. I wish I could tell him, and I would if I knew myself. But I don't. There's been a murder. And I'm suspect number 1. I don't blame them, if I were a policeman I would suspect me too. I've been here since 9PM and I stopped talking an hour ago. It's getting late. Here's a list of things I definitely know;
#I'm in big trouble.
#My parents are missing.
#I'm so sleep deprived that blinking is difficult.
#I may or may not have murdered the victims.
#I really hope not.
#Like, really.
#I've been here for 4 hours.
#It's really hard to be serious when there's 3 very serious looking police officers in the same room, staring intently at you.
#I like to make lists.
#I like the number 10.
I haven't seen the crime scene. The kind, lovely police officer (notice my sarcasm?) said if I confess, I go straight to jail. And if I don't, we'll just sit here until I do. So you see I'm in quite a predicament. The policeman clicks his fingers in front of my face. "ARE YOU AWAKE?!" he asks. This is probably meant as a rhetorical question but I reply with "Barely, can I go now?" He's losing his patience.
After another 20 minutes I end up leaving. My house is only about a kilometer away but when rain starts pouring down, I regret turning down the ride from another officer. Our house looks run-down and long abandoned. It's actually a really nice house but now, it doesn't even look remotely inviting.
It's amazing what some rain and dim light can do. I try to open the door as quietly as I can, but it creaks anyway. The floorboards groan under my weight, I'm not that fat, am I? Great, now I'm cold, wet, and self-conscious about my weight. Dead tired, I make my way up the stairs. There's a noise coming from my room. As I approach it, the lights go out.
"ROARR!" My little brother jumps out.
"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!" I scream.
"Are you serious, it's just a jo-"
"ARE YOU SERIOUS ABOUT LIFE?" My hands are shaking uncontrollably.
"Woah, calm down." He says.
I sigh, children these days. I suppose it's not his fault, he's only 11.
"Where's mum and dad?" I ask, noticing no one came running to stop me from killing my own brother.
"Dunno."
OK, now I want to strangle him. Deep breaths. "Well, how long have you been here?"
"Hmmm, try 6 HOURS." Oops. Oh well. We sleep in the same bed.
I awake to scratching sounds. My brother is no longer beside me but there's a light coming from the bathroom. Then what's the scratching? Maybe it's just my brother. There's a shrill scream and the door slams shut before I can even sit up. Screaming again. I run into the door, trying to force it open.
The screaming stops. The only sound I hear is dripping. A pool of blood starts coming out from under the door and seeping into the clean, beige carpet. Something inhuman burst open the door and came at me. The last sound I ever heard was a loud, high-pitched noise. Nothing that any normal animal could make. I am sure it's something not of this world, a thing, an alien. You know how they say that just before you die, your life flashing before your eyes? Well I saw 10 things;
#My parents when I'd gotten 4 As on my report.
#My friends Jess and Claire.
#The painting I did in year 7.
#Me accepting an award for Ballet last year.
#A pile of lists that I'd made.
#A picture of my family and I on a cruise.
#The serious looking police officer interrogating me.
#The person I'd had a crush on for 2 months.
#The way my house looked during Christmas.
#The way I looked when I murdered those people.
Damn, I was hoping to watch that NBA final.
Category:Deletion Log Refugees
Category:Trollpasta
Category:Satire
Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck
Category:Well, that was anticlimactic.
Category:Old Shit