A shiver passed through me as I closed the door of my empty home behind me. It was too silent, my dad having left for work, and without the usual banter of my friends. As soon as I left the meadow, I felt the sadness weighing down my shoulders again. I didn’t want to go home, where I would be alone. So I wandered around the forest for a bit, until my empty stomach made my brain go fuzzy and I was forced to go back to my jeep to drive home.
I tried not to think about them, afraid I wouldn’t hold it together. I missed them. Missed James’ obnoxious behaviour, Emma telling him off and George rolling his eyes at me. But, he was the life of our group, the one to get us in trouble occasionally. Emma was a good listener, always willing to help others, and George was like a little brother to me.
Wiping the stray tears off my cheek, I walked in to the kitchen, finding something to keep me occupied. I still felt guilty, even though there was nothing I could have done. And my guilt only increased since I decided to help Zayn. He was the one that brutally murdered them, but I couldn’t help it. When I look at him it tugs at my heartstrings, because he’s completely and utterly helpless. He can’t even remember what he did. I doubt he even remembers I was there.
I didn’t blame him, not really. I blamed the person that made him this way, the one that turned him into this thing. The only way I would feel better was to undo their work, to stop Zayn from harming anyone else. I was staring out of the kitchen window, gazing into our shabby backyard. It looked wild, obscuring the two plastic chairs my dad and I used to sit on.
The last time we sat out there was hard to remember. Probably years ago, before my mum passed away. It had been our thing to tend to the garden, to take care of it. And after a long day of sweating under the hot sun, we’d sit on those chairs and watch over our work, what we did. Mum would then bring us some fresh lemonade, with a smile that made me feel proud to have her as my mother. She was a strong, caring woman and most of all, beautiful. My parents were so in love, but she was taken from us. Taken too early.
Sniffling softly, I rummaged through some cupboards, taking the things I needed to make a sandwich. There wasn’t much left, so a trip to Sue would be inevitable. She was the owner of the local supermarket, although it wasn’t that big. She had always been very sweet to me, especially since the death of my mother. She would have small talk with my dad and before we left, she would give me some sweets.
Sighing, I sat down to quietly eat my sandwich. I started tapping my foot, trying to drown out the sound of my own chewing, but it only agitated me more. I finished in a hurry, the chair scraping across the tiled floor as I scooted back. There was a soft thud as I dropped my plate in the sink and headed towards my room afterwards.
I had expected my father to still be home, but was once more disappointed after finding the driveway empty. It happened quite often, but I didn’t bother him with it. I started up my laptop, getting comfortable on my bed. It was only just afternoon and I couldn’t be bothered to go out and buy supplies. I’d better spend my time doing some research.
***
A few hours had passed and my eyes were burning from the brightness of the screen. Suppressing a yawn, I closed a few tabs. The internet was full of information, just not what I was looking for.
What was I looking for?
Entering random search words in the search engine didn’t seem to do much. Even when I did find something, I couldn’t be sure that it was actually true. Had anyone else in the world come across something like this? Sighing, I rubbed my stinging eyes. My fingers were tapping against my leg as I stared at the screen, trying to come up with something else.
I decided to enter the name of my town, Everton, to see what came up. Clicking through the pages of useless information, my finger hovered over the touch pad when a specific article caught my eye. Opening the link, I was directed to some sort of database, containing news articles dating back to the 1900s. The title of the article read: Mystery Murder. Below the title of the article was the date and location: January 14, 1974. Everton, Hampshire. Taking a shaky breath, I started to read.
On the night of the 13th of January, campers reported hearing strange noises coming from the forest. Not being anything they had ever heard, they alarmed the local police. Upon investigating the area the police discovered no signs of any animal that should not be there. After deciding to visit the Malik residence – which was conveniently placed in the forest - to ask questions regarding the odd noises, they found something gruesome. The family had been torn to pieces, with one member missing. No further information has been revealed by the police.
With a lump in my throat, I scrolled down to find a photo, presumably of Zayn with his family. I recognised his sharp features and mop of black hair. His hands were on the shoulders of two smaller girls, behind him a taller one. Next to them was a couple with their arms around each other’s waist.
It looked like Zayn had three sisters. And he lost them all. He lost his entire family that night. I think I already knew what really happened and it made me feel sick. I closed my laptop after giving it a disgusted look, shoving it to the side. My head hit my pillow and I closed my eyes briefly, the family photo stuck in my mind. After seeing them, I felt even more motivated to help Zayn. They would want him to be happy even after what happened, right? I had to do this, for all of them.
***
My eyes shot open after hearing the front door close. Apparently I had fallen asleep, the sun now reduced to a warm glow. I turned my head to peer up at my alarm clock, eyes widening when I discovered it was already 7 pm. I slowly got off my bed, hearing my dad call me from downstairs. Wobbling over to my bedroom door, I opened it and shuffled towards the top of the stairs. I was feeling a bit lightheaded, my eyes itching from the lack of sleep. My throat felt dry when I tried to clear it before speaking up.
‘’Hi, dad,’’ I croaked. Walking down the stairs, I heard my father’s stomach growl. I groaned in response, realising I didn’t go down to the supermarket.
‘’Dad, we don’t have any food.’’ He only shrugged, taking off his shoes and looking up at me as I stood in front of him. I was only a bit taller.
‘’That’s ok, son. How does pizza sound?’’ I nodded, following him into the kitchen where he took a beer from the fridge, sitting down on a chair with a deep sigh. There was a slightly awkward silence in which I shuffled about, my dad giving me a worried look. It was obvious he was trying to say something, so I remained quiet. After taking another sip from his beer, he spoke up.
‘’So… The funeral will be in two days. Or, funerals.’’ Biting down on my bottom lip, I nodded. My voice couldn’t be trusted. To be honest, I was afraid to face their families. I was perfectly content shutting myself out from the outside world, pretending it never happened. But of course I couldn’t do that. My biggest fear was that they would blame me, that I would become some sort of outcast.
I guess I just had to wait and see.
So that's chapter 7 already.. Harry found some shocking information, huh? Poor boy needs a break. Next update will be on Wednesday! Thank you so much for reading, voting and commenting.
Love you all xxx <3
