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He Was My Bestfriend - Short Story.

Book By: jessbolden
Mystery and crime



A short story about a girl named Sarah who finds that her father never really disappeared on his afternoon walk months ago, but that he had actually been murdered, by someone she least suspected, with a weapon she would now use as revenge.


Submitted:Apr 4, 2011    Reads: 254    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   


"Get up".

My mothers voice echoed through the house. It annoyed me. I didn't understand why she couldn't just come into my room and gently push me awake with loving words like all my other friends parents. I guess you could say I was used to it... or maybe that I had taken up rather odd hobbies to avert my attention away from the crap parenting I was recieving. Either way, I enjoyed each day. I knew that if my mother wanted to treat me worse, she would, after Dad dissapearing and all. I was just happy that she hadn't gotten depressed or violent and that it was atleast bearable.

"Get out of the house, im cleaning" her words echoed once more throughout the house.

I didn't need to reply... and she knew it. I always left the house as soon as I awoke. I also didn't understand why she asked me to leave, when clearly it was my pleasure. I jumped up and looked out the window. Raining... perfect. I ran to my wardrobe and flung it open in a hurry. I wasn't going to let the my favourite weather pass without me being in it. I stared at the wooden floor where all my clothes were spread. The smell of dirt and forest intoxicated me whilst I stared. I slowly smiled as I realised that with such weather, I could re-enact my favourite game... Out of this world. I dug beneath my clothes pile until I found what I wanted. I threw it on and beamed like a child in a candy store. I knew that even though it was beyond childish, I wanted to do it, and no one was going to change my mind. I quickly paced across the cold tiles of my room quickly glancing at my mirror before picking up the pace and dashing down the stairs. I had almost made it to the door before a cough directed in my direction stopped me abruptly.

"Saz, you're fourteen now, I think it would be much more appropriate if you went outside in one of those pretty dresses I bought you..." Mum said cautiously looking at me up and down.

I looked down at what I was wearing. She didn't understand. How could I NOT play 'Out of this world' without my awesome one-of-a-kind spacesuit? I looked back at her meeting her eyes. She hadn't called me Saz since Dad left, and as I stood there, she seemed to realise what she had called me, and decided to step forward and bob down to my height.

"Sarah, darling, don't your friends think it's a bit... odd? I know you love the suit, but you are almost too big for it, and you look much too beautiful in those dresses for them to just sit in your wardrobe." she asked pleadingly.

I sighed but kept staring into her eyes. The only time mum was ever nice, was when she wanted something. I blinked and stepped back, breathing in deeply. I puckered up all the courage I could muster and opened my mouth.

"Mum, no offense, but I think you scared off all the friends I ever had. Plus, we live in the middle of a forest, i'm homeschooled and wouldn't know how to act my age since I haven't seen another fourteen year old girl for a long time."

She froze. I was surprised I could keep eye contact with her whilst I watched about six emotions scrawl across her face. Her hands slowly rose to her face and she preceeded to rub her hands down her cheeks and onto her neck. I could feel the guilt crawling up my body. Before the guilt consumed me, she leant forward, kissed me on the forehead and spun around as she headed back towards the kitchen.

"Enjoy your day."

I exhaled in an unaudable gasp. I blinked a few times at where she dissapeared behind the door and relaxed. I unclenched my fists and turned around, knowing that something was wrong if Mum was so willing to let it go. I slowly made my way outside. My game didn't interest me anymore, so I headed towards the forest where Dad and I had planted our vegetable patch. Ever since Dad dissapeared, I had kept the vegetable garden growing just how he had taught me. Water once a day, with a little bit of fertiliser that he kept next to it. The raindrops thudded against my spacesuit as they collected on the leaves above me and dropped. I stared down at the only vegetable that I had been able to maintain. The carrots. I knew that in a very short time, they would all be gone, and that if I wanted to plant some more, I would have to ask mum, something I didn't want to do anytime soon. I looked down at the green shoots poking from underneath the dirt and knew that they were almost ready to pull from the ground. I sludged through the mud towards the fertiliser. I plunged my hand deep into the soggy fertiliser and pulled out a handful. I stood there observing the handful until I dragged my arm over the carrots and open my clenched fist. I nodded to myself approvingly and slammed my bottom into the puddle behind me. I giggled to myself and rolled over and over in it until my whole suit had turned a faded brown colour. I looked down at my hands where the mud was drooling through them. I stood up and decided to make my way towards the waterfall. The mud was deep and hard to get out of, which gave me time to notice a shining piece of metal sticking out from behind the tree parallel to me. I squinted my eyes to try and make out the shiny object with no success. I looked around suspiciously before slowly making my way towards it. I must have been almost a metre away before I realised that it was a knife. A big one. I took a step back and stared uncontrollably at the knife. Five minutes had passed and I was still standing knee deep in mud staring intently at the knife. I quickly snapped my gaze away to look around me, to make sure no one could see what I was about to do. I dropped to my knees infont of it and ran my finger across the knife. I wrapped my fingers around the hard wooden handle and held it up to my eye level. It was heavy and the blade itself was almost twice the size of my hand. It felt a good couple of kilograms and as shiny as ever. I lent sideways while I quickly swung it towards the tree next to me, and watch its blade as sharp as anything, pierce the trunk of the tree like it was jelly. My eyes quickly became the size of golf balls as I realised that the knife I had just slung into the tree, was a meat cleaver, used by butchers. My mind went into a complete frenzy. A million questions raced through my mind. I was quite obviously in too much shock to realise that I had already pulled the knife from the tree and started walking towards the house. I couldn't fathom why such a dangerous knife like this was right outside my house just laying in the bushes. I made it to the front door and stopped. What was I going to tell mum. That I found a knife? What was she going to do about it? I dared to stare down at the monster of a knife once more when I noticed that it had an initial engraved in small letters near the base of the blade, an that the tip was a red colour. The colour repulsed me as I immediately decided that the only thing it could be was blood. As for the initials, it read A.R. I drew in a sharp inhale as the initials struck a huge blow. I looked away from the knife and clenched my fists. I kicked the door open with my foot rushing towards the stairs flicking mud and water everywhere. I clanged the cleaver against the walls as I hurried up the stairs and spun quickly around to face my mother who had turned to see what the cause of all the racket was. I turned the knife sideways in my hand to give mum a full view of the blade I was holding. She stood more still than a statue and stared at it. Her face showed no emotion and her eyes had glazed over like she was a zombie. I hadn't realised how long I was holding my breath for, and as I exhaled, she slowly raised her eyes to meet mine. I was horrified. Never had I witnessed such a cold, dark stare. I could feel it piercing through me, but I continued to keep eye contact with her.

"Sarah Jane Hasther, bring me it," she spoke in almost an evil shriek.

Every hair on my body was standing, as I knew this was not the mother I grew up with. It was like she was possessed. I swallowed deeply and stayed stationary. I wanted answers, and I was going to get them.

"Why is this knife outside, and more importantly, why are your initials on it?" I slowly hissed hardly unclenching my teeth.

Her nostrils flared, like she wasn't expecting me to talk. Like she expected me to obey her request without a word. The atmosphere became suddenly eerie. My breathing picked up and I sensed that something was seriously wrong. She showed no interest in responding and just continued to stare into my eyes whilst her pupils dilated until nearly all her eye was black. The silence became deafening and I couldn't take it anymore. I took an uneasy step forward and clenched my fists harder.

"It has blood on it," I stated hoping for some kind of a reaction.

She didn't even flinch at the words. It was quite obvious then that she was obviously already aware of the fact and I could feel the adrenaline starting to pump through me.

"Mum," I exclaimed a little louder, "why is there a butchersknife with your initials on it laying out near the garden, with blood on the tip?"

She preceeded to broaden her shoulders and flare her nostrils even bigger this time.

"If he hadn't of made it so obvious, he might of gotten away with it," she exclaimed harshly.

My eyes shot open in confusion. Who does she mean? Gotten away with what? The confusion seemed to radiate from me as she opened her mouth to answer me.

"No one, Sarah, should have to grow up with a man who is full of betrayal," she said slowly not looking away from my eyes.

My throat tightened. My eyes widened even further. I didn't have to ask her who this 'man' was. The evil glint in her eye screamed his name. I didn't want to believe the truth that was now crawling through my skin, but it seemed inevitable. My breathing picked up and I started to shake. I looked down quickly at the blood stained on the blade and almost vomited. It was his blood. I was holding the knife she had used to kill the one man I had truely loved. My best friend. The man who would come play outside no matter what weather the day brought. My father. He hadn't dissapeared on one of he's afternoon walks at all. She had lied to me, for months. I lurched back keeping my head forward whilst I lifted both my arms in an 'L' shape up beside my chest and screamed. I screamed and screamed until I was out of air, finishing with a huge gasp for air. The woman infront of me didn't stir at all. She seemed unimpressed to say the least. The corner of her mouth lifted up into an evil smile.

"I got his little girlfriend too," she spat letting out a quick laugh before continuing on with her evil glare.

I was horrified. The lady who had tucked me into bed and cooked me food for years and years was the woman standing infront of me, confessing to the murder of not just my father, but the other woman she seemed to have caught him with. Every hair on my body shot up as a huge adrenaline rush engulfed my body.

"HE... WAS... MY... BEST!" I shrieked taking a step towards her with every word.

By the time I had made it to within arms distance of her, I panicked.

"FRIEND!" I screamed lunging forward and pressing the knife hard against her chest.

It all went in slow motion. I pushed as hard as I could, only to find that my ears started to fill with the sound of ripping flesh. I became disorientated and quickly let go of the knife before thudding against the cold tiles. I lifted my head only to start vomiting violently. Once I had stopped I quickly sidled away from the huge mess I had made, looking for the emergency help button on the house alarm. I spotted it above me on the wall and quickly took a glance at the scene behind me. The knife was protuding from my mothers body and she then became quickly limp, before she fell sideways with her head onto the counter, making an ear splitting cracking sound, flopping to the floor. I threw up again, as the noise had sickened me. I stared at the first pile of vomit I had made, and the blood that was gushing from my mothers chest. I quickly turned towards the wall and slapped the emergency button with all the power I could muster, before slouching against the wall and watching the blood and vomit mix on the white tiles. It made a disgusting browny-yellow colour. I gasped horrified at what I had done, before I became very dizzy, and fell face first into the tiles. I was able to open my eyes into a squint and saw nothing but a white, pale face of a woman that I had once called my mother. I slowly closed my eyes and surrended to the darkness.

The six words suggested by people to create this story were:

'Child' 'Murderer' 'Butchersknife' 'Spacesuit' 'Mud' 'Carrot'

Sorry for any grammatical errors.





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