Chapter Eighteen

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When I wake, my body feels perfectly fine . . . but that's just my body, my mind is busy and crowded with thoughts about my dream last night. My dreams have gotten more weirder since I've been away.

I head to the bathroom to get ready. Brushing my teeth, my mind wanders through all of what Jordan could say. I discontinue my thoughts and finish my bathroom routine, exiting towards the kitchen. Jordan is at his stove cooking something delicious.

"Hey."

He looks up from his food and smiles. "Hey, Jane. Making eggs, want some?"

"Sure."

I walk over to where the plates are and grab two of them, as well as forks. I set them on the table at around the same time that Jordan walks over with the finished product. He slides the scrambled food out of the frying pan and onto my plate.

I smile a thanks and he sits down in his chair, food already placed on his plate.

"So, what happened last night?"

I freeze, my fork in mid air while I just breath slowly. "Um . . . I don't know what you mean."

"Your dream. The one you were hyperventilating about."

"Oh . . . that one. Well, um . . . I went to Mom's grave and gave her some flowers. Then when I was leaving she appeared and stabbed me to death. And that's when I woke up."

Jordan looks down at his plate, I can see that he is thinking by the way he is pushing his eggs around.

"Does that happen a lot?"

"Occasionally. It varies from time to time and they're different almost every time."

"Oh." Jordan takes more interest in his food now and I follow. An awkward silence falls upon us, one that I don't feel the need to break.

Suddenly Jordan stands and drops his empty plate to the sink. Dropping it in the sink, he exits the kitchen. Grabbing his coat along with his backpack, he yells to me. "Be back around four!" And with that, he closes his apartment door.

I finish my food and put my plate on top of Jordan's. I feel bored, so I walk around his apartment. Glancing at the clock, I see that I still have around eight hours before Jordan comes back. I walk over to his desk, a laptop charger sits in the middle of the table. The laptop taken with Jordan and the cord just waiting for its owner to return. Turning to my left, I walk over to a cabinet. Inside there are medals and trophies from High School. Wrestling, Football, some Baseball, and a little of Hockey. I close the cabinet and walk over to his DVD collection. Mostly just movies about famous people from sports, but he has a couple classics. I turn away from the DVDs and head to my room.

I open my bag and a book comes tumbling out. Turning towards the fallen book, I notice that its the book from Aunt Mallory's. Murder in 1882. Great.

I take the book, feeling the need to re-read it. And so I do. I read page after page, soaking in all of the details of the crimes, the trials, and the executions. I read the book so deeply that I believe I'm inside the book, that I'm in 1882 and watching these things happen. Though no one knows that I'm watching them. Like I'm invisible.

The crimes that took place throughout the crime filled year of 1882 could not be forgotten. The wives, husbands, and children of the murdered families tried desperately to cherish the memories of their lost ones and to also remain strong for their families. I got so into the book that I had to re-read the last couple of paragraphs.

The Crimes:

The crimes were all of different variations and techniques.

Miss Harriet Swenson was murdered by Daniel Crabsom who tied her to the ceiling of his home and then carved Greek symbols onto her arms and legs, leaving her to bleed out. He was found in his home, dancing in Miss Swenson's blood. He was found guilty at his trial and was given the death sentence. But only two hours before his execution, he committed suicide in his cell. How he did so . . . has yet to be figured out.

Another was Mister Edward Fuller who was killed by his brother Clint Fuller. Clint took a slower method of murdering his brother. Clint had poisoned Edward by taking snake's venom and dropping a little bit into Edward's drinks. Edward didn't die as fast as Clint wanted him to, so Clint took it upon himself to make it go faster. He injected the rest of the snake's venom into Edward and watched as he died a painful death. Clint was given a trial for which he was found guilty and hanged later that day.

Other deaths were of more natural murders, such as stabbing and strangulation. Other murders were so bizarre that to even this day, are still unexplained. 

I release the breath that I don't remember holding. All of the murders that happened. All of those people, the families . . . 

I continue reading, skipping over some of the court order details.

The courts believed in one saying:

The Guilty Shall Rest Under Pain of Death . . . 

And rest they shall . . . for all of eternity.

I close the book, placing it back inside my bag with such ease and grace that you would think that it was something fragile like glass.

I hear the door opening and I immediately look at the clock. It's 4:03. Jordan's back. Time really flew by.

"Hey, Jane." Jordan calls as he closes the door.

"Hey, Jordan." I reply, sitting on my bed.

"What did you do? Hopefully you didn't go through my terrible DVD collection."

"I saw them, but I just read a book."

"Oh. Was it any good?" Jordan asks as cupboard doors ope and close.

"It was very informative." I reply. "Hey, Jordan. I'm going to bed early, so don't make me anything."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I feel exhausted." I end with that and lie down on my bed. Sleep comes over me in a second and already I know that a decision must be made. And one that I'm not happy about.

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Well, that was interesting. I basically finished this chapter in one day, so give me some credit. Some of it seems a little odd, but that is how I want it. Hope this chapter was okay. Feel free to comment. I'll probably finish next week! Maybe.

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