The Red Cheetah Print Journal
By: Michael Keigher
I sat up in bed, writing a new chapter in my journal…if I published this thing I'd be a millionaire…it was only seven and the sun was just kissing the world goodbye. I was exhausted and ready for bed. I hid my red cheetah print journal in my hiding place…though I didn't need to… no one came in my basement anyways. But I like to be safe. I then went and locked the door to my room. Sunday nights are so peaceful… I raised the blanket covering me up to my neck and laid on my side…I turned off the TV and embraced the new darkness as it slowly took me away to a place I loved to be. A place where the worlds weight wasn't on my shoulders. The world couldn't touch me while I was here. I was about to drift off when I felt the small, vibration on my side. I don't know who texts at eleven at night but…
"Michael?…Michael! I've texted you 5 times and called you three times! I don't care how tired you are, you're going to school!…Michael!!!" my mother Jodi screamed while shaking the locked door. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the master key, hidden on the bookshelf. She unlocked the door and walked into her worst nightmare. She screamed at the top of her lungs and dropped the key at her feet. She walked slowly across the room, not believing her eyes. Her body collapsed on top of her son. She darted into the next room to get to the phone, leaving bloody footprints behind her. She raced and fumbled with the phone as if anyone could help him now. She sobbed to the operator as she explained that she found her son, Michael, with his wrists slit and motionless. They came within the hour, and took him out in a body bag. He experienced a new world of darkness now.
Jodi sat at the kitchen table, slightly rocking and eyes wide and tired. "Well, we looked around his room. We found his phone and SIM card destroyed, and the knife. I'm sorry miss. He committed suicide…" an officer came into the room, offering her a cup of coffee. She shook her head and stood up.
"well, thank you officers. When can I start with the arrangements?" she said it emotionlessly. They were wrong. She knew. This was no suicide. She was going to have to figure this out, without the police. The person who did this to her baby would pay.