asylum [kai parker] editing/rewriting

Two

S I M O N E
When I wake up the next morning it's Saturday. Investigation day. The man I'd seen in the station could not have been Malachai Parker. He stabbed his twin, killed his other siblings in his own sick creative ways, and then tried to kill his twin brother and sister. That's all the article said about him. I have a right to be terrified of this man. He killed his family.

But then again, so did I.

Dad has already gone to work and left a note telling me to stay home. I'll do that. It's not like I have a car to drive anywhere. But I might go on a walk, I'll decide on that later. There's many trails in Darkwood and normally I run them since they are all around our house.

Darkwood is a small area of trees behind my house that's about forty acres. You could easily get lost in them but not to many people are that stupid. That makes me wonder how stupid Malachai Parker had to be to get caught. We're talking about a boy who stabbed his twin and killed his family as if they were chickens for the slaughter. And he just happens to be caught by the police.

My stomach twists at the thought. They released him. They couldn't figure out what I had by just looking at a picture.

When I take out my phone I call Dad repeatedly. No answer. I call again. Nothing. What if Malachai returns to the police office to kill Dad? The second Dad gets home I've got to tell him. This guy needs to be put behind bars. I call a few more times but come to the conclusion that he has his phone off.

Or maybe Malachai got to him.

Why am I so obsessed with putting this guy away?

Because maybe I can save others by getting rid of him and preventing anything else to happen. To save a life and make up for the ones I've taken.

I answer my own questions, still distraught over the whole situation.

After making myself breakfast, I put on shorts and a white shirt and tie my hair up in a high pony-tail. Might as well go out for a run. Dad doesn't have much technology in the house. My iPhone and my books were the only thing I owned that matters. Books on books.

I slide my earbuds in and pull up music on my phone. Teenagers by My Chemical Romance plays loudly in my ears. There is so many things going on my mind and I just need to run. Run away from my problems. Face them another day. They won't disappear forever but at least I won't have to face them now.

Closing the sliding door behind me, I step out onto the balcony. Rain sprinkles from the clouds lightly. Fog surrounds the trees and clings like a blanket over the ground. Stretching, I pull my right arm over my chest and pull then I do the same thing with my other arm.

Birds are perched on the tops of trees, chirping loudly. Countless animals roam these woods, so I am smart enough to bring my pocket knife. That wouldn't help much of I were to run into a bear or wolf, but it keeps me sane when thinking about the possibilities.

After a few moments of walking down the dirt path I break into a run. My shoes stick into the mud but it doesn't slow me down. All I can think of is running faster. I can't bare thinking about the newspaper, what I see in it, and I can't think about Dad. But the thoughts surface and I face them, thinking each of them out while running. It's a coincidence. They said Malachai was dead.

There are two possibilities.
Number one, Malachai is dead and the guy in the police office was just lost.

Number two, Malachai never died and yesterday when I was in the office, it was him staring me dead in the eye.

I'm praying that it's option one.

As I'm running I feel a sharp pain in my calf. Wincing I look down to see a small bead of blood dripping down towards my ankle. Shaking my head, I ignore it.

I take I right down another path and start running again. The path turns from mud to green grass. Puddles of water flood the grass, making my sneakers stick into the mud. The path opens up into a large clearing. A small brick structure stands on both sides of the large green pathway that filters into a meadow. There is a small tree stump to my right and a large white house sits in the middle of the field.The green grass is shiny and bright. The field has to be at least an acre. After stepping into another puddle, my shoes get wet. Shaking my right leg, I pull of each shoe then my socks. It takes me at least two minutes to untie the knots in my old sneakers. My frustration levels exceed their normal level and I pick up one shoe and chuck it across the felid. I'll go get it later. There are so many things racing across my mind right now.

Looking down, I debate on knocking on the door. No. I should just head home. I could've sworn this was an empty field. No one owns residence here anymore.

My shoe lands a few feet away and I walk quickly and grab it once more. The sun shines against my eyelids as I close them and stare up. I should head back now. There is another noise behind me. Turning quickly, I notice what made the noise. It's a bird. Thank god.

The small blue bird wails loudly and flys past me again. I should get back now, before dad gets home. My stomach drops and I'm not sure why yet. Everything seems like I'm moving to fast and my head feels dizzy. The overwhelming sensation of darkness and danger overcomes me. Turning, I look for the source and reason. But it turns out that the source stands right behind me.

"What are you doing here?" A loud voice says from behind me. My stomach drops and I can't help but turn around to see grey emotionless eyes staring back at me.

That answers most of my questions. All I needed was a second glass.

It's option two.
And I'm royally screwed.