Saved By The Attic! : Chapter 2
Who called them? Only the killers and I knew what had happened!
I woke up feeling as if someone was using a hammer to pound nails in my head.
“Ouch!” I cried, my hands checking my head to make sure everything was fine and in place.
As I stood up slower this time, I hit my head on the open drawer on the Island in the center of the kitchen. “Ouch!” the pain in my head groans as I slide back down. Fear grabbed control of me as I glanced around me. My brother was lying next to me, bleeding.
The memories flooded my brain like water seeping into a tunnel, lifting my pain higher. The ringing of the telephone extended my fear.
I jumped up, spin around in confusion. Suddenly my feet grabbed control of my body and headed out the back door. I ran until my feet decided that it has had enough. My body hit the ground face down.
“Are you alright?” a voice asked.
I sprinted up, facing a New York City police officer. He stared at me in shock.
I look down at me. There was blood all over my t-shirt and my hands!
I bolted as if a volcano was spewing hot lava at me.
“Hey, stop!” he called out.
I kept on running. For some reason, I wasn’t cold. I should have been. It was
Twenty-nine degrees in March and a t-shirt and jeans weren’t enough to protect me from New York’s weather.
I ran until I saw a park ahead. They must have a restroom. They did. Inside I wash the blood from my hands and face. Two women were talking. They weren’t paying any attention to me.
The image in the mirror terrified me. I looked as if I was in a blood bath. A coat was hanging on the door; I grabbed it and fled. Slowing down for a few seconds to put it on, covering my bloody attire. I just keep on moving until I just couldn’t anymore.
Someone was searching for something.
Who?
What did my brother and sister do?
Who killed them? Why? What were they looking for?
What if they are looking for me?
I must talk to someone, but I was afraid. I knew no one else in New York.
Sirens echoed closer. The Police! Talk to the Police. God, I should have called the Police!
I must get back to the house! I cried frantically. ‘You can’t,’ a voice inside me said. ‘What if they come back? That is if they didn’t find what they were looking for.’
I instinctively scanned around me. I had no idea where I was.
‘A taxi!’ a voice in me suggested. ‘You have no money,’ another voice inside alerts.
I quickly search the pockets of the coat I had stolen. There was $12.89 in
it. I nodded, looking at my watch. It was 4:15 P.M.
My siblings were always talking about gypsy cabs in New York. A car stopped, and someone got out in one of the apartment buildings a few feet away. I flagged him as he turned and drove towards me.
When I gave him the address, he said, “$7.00.”
And they say New York is expensive. It turns out I was only a block away. New York is expensive.
EMS, along with the NYPD, was already there.
Who called them?
Only the killers and I knew what had happened!
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