snitch

21

this is stella's sweater:)

Harry Styles

I woke up with an annoying ringing in my ear. I lazily threw my arm over, pressing Stop.

I look at the time, and realize I was going to be late if I didn't hurry up and I can't be late today. I jump out of bed and throw on some black jeans, a white t-shirt, and my converse.

I finish my morning activities; brushing my teeth, washing my face, running my fingers back through my hair, and of course setting up my two bags, one for school and one for... my before-school activity.

I walk into the garage, loaded with vehicles and decide to go with my classic choice, the motorcycle. I slid my sunglasses onto my face as the garage opened, expecting sunlight but there was none. Then I remembered that it was four something in the morning.

I rode out of the garage, stopping at a column that stood right outside of it so I could close it. Don't want anyone stealing my uncle's cars.

I look at my phone and check the address of my directive is. It wasn't too far from me and this guy was older so I should be in and out quick.

I pull up to a guest parking, not too far from the front of the house. I leave my bike on, as usual, just in case things go bad and time doesn't cooperate with me.

I take the plastic bag of supplies, pulling out my pair of black latex gloves first, sliding them on my hands. Next, I take out a black bandana, tying it to cover my nose down, my sunglasses covering my eyes. Then I grab the knife and slide it out of it's sterilized bag.

I walk towards the front door, that sick feeling sitting in my stomach. It always came before I did these things. But I had to do it, because if I don't, when I get the real job done, they will all know it was me.

I type in the door code that I had watched Henry Myers put in every day when he got home. 2316.

I open the door, ever so softly, and walk towards the master bedroom. I had already memorized the blue-prints of this house like if they were my own. I needed to.

I enter the already opened bedroom door, and see Mr. Meyers sleeping so peacefully with Mrs. Meyers right beside him. Fuck I felt terrible doing this. I didn't want to.

But I need to.

I crept up right next to him, wasting no time before slicing his throat so he couldn't scream. I didn't want to give him a slow death because from what I knew of this man, he was good unlike the rest.

I stabbed him repeatedly in the chest rapidly, wanting this to be over with already. I knew his wife wasn't going to wake up considering I slipped Ketamine into the drink of water she just had like 10 minutes ago. I'm very prepared.

I waited about two minutes before I checked his pulse to ensure he was dead. And of course, he was. I dropped the fingerprint-less knife onto the ground, carefully walking out of the house. I kept my gloves on my hands until I was next to my bike.

I took them off, leaving them on the floor, and squeezed some hand-sanitizer in my hands. I then got on my bike, driving off. I drove about two miles before reaching a payphone next to a bus stop.

I parked my bike next to it, and got off, taking two quarters out of my pocket. My face coverings still on, in case someone managed to follow me or something.

I dialed in 911 and picked up the telephone, bringing it to my ear. It was ringing and ringing until finally someone picked up.

Operator: 911, what's your emergency?