Isaac

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic


Who is Isaac? Well, his name is Joseph. I don't know him either. He just showed up one day at the doorstep.

Submitted: April 11, 2018

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Submitted: April 11, 2018

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I heard the bell ringing and hurried to the door. Who could that be? I wasn't expecting anyone, or did I forget?

"Good afternoon, ma'am." There was a police officer standing in front of me. His name was Croft, well at least I thought so, because that's what his card said.

"I'm officer Croft and I caught this boy violating a car, he said that you are his grandmother, is this true?"

I didn't know the boy, never even seen his face, but he looked worried. I wondered where his parents were and who he was.

"Officer Croft, yes, this is my grandchild Isaac. Thank you for bringing him here, was there a lot of damage on the car?"

The boys face glanced and he looked surprised. Officer Croft looked surprised as well, but he accepted my answer.

"The damages are already taken care off so don't you worry, just inform his parents and everything will be fine."

He then nodded and took off. The boy and I watched his car disappear from view and when he was completely out of sight the boy said to me: "Er, thanks ma'am." He was going to take off as well, but I stopped him. "Little boy, what's your name?"

"Joseph Rimmington, ma'am, but everyone calls me Rimmo".

I gave him a smile and invited him inside for a cup of tea. He wandered around the room and looked curiously around while he kept an eye on me too. At that point I realized that he had some trust issues. I was curious as well. Why did he come to my house? I walked into the living room with two mugs and hot water. "Come sit, Joseph, and tell me, why did you violate a car?"

He didn't say anything, he just looked down. I saw a lot of pain written in his eyes and I felt the sadness in the room. "It's Rimmo, but why did you say that I was your grandson?"

I didn't really have an answer to that question. "I thought that you needed a little help."

His face changed again. Not really happiness, but he looked more, interested. He thought about my answer for a while. He then replied: "I did, thank you."

We sipped our tea and he then began telling. "The car was the car of a mad man. He is disturbingly scary. He has my sister."

What did he just say? His sister? A mad man? "What did you say? What man took your sister?"

"My sister didn't want to go, but she had to, because the papers were already signed."

I thought about that. His sister was now at a foster home maybe, or his sister was sold, but that would be crazy.

"What papers, son?" He thought again, was he allowed to tell all this?

"Katherina and I were in an orphanage for most of our lives, because our parents killed each other."

"When was all that, Joseph?" It looked like every time I said his name that he got hurt.

"Ma'am, are you going to take me back?" Did he still live in the orphanage?

"I don't know son, you have to tell me everything." He thought about that and it made sense to him. He nodded and continued talking, "When I was six years old, my parents were still alive. They really loved each other, because they always gave secret kisses when we weren't watching. However, one day when I was feeling sick, I went home and saw my dad and mum fighting. My mother was crying very loudly and my dad tried to convince her to do something. Then they took out two guns, looked each other in the eyes and counted. On three they shot each other through the heart." I listened to every word he said very carefully as I watched his face. He didn't cry, he didn't smile, he just looked like a little boy without parents or any other family. "I went back to school and tried to smile and play with other kids, but that didn't take long. A police officer picked me and my sister up from school and brought us to an orphanage. We couldn't go home to pack our stuff, we weren't allowed to enter the house, and I knew why. After 3 years my sister was adopted by a nice looking family. Her name is now Katherina Crawford, but she is unhappy. I still visit her every week. She is brainwashed to forget all of her problems, she even gets medication. I didn't know what to do and that's why I violated the car."

Something wasn't right. How could he tell all this without even shedding a tear. Then I thought of what he had said about the mad man. "Son, are you sure that she is in a family now? Isn't she in a mental hospital?"

He again thought of that. "She claims that I killed our parents. She also claims that I hurt her, but I couldn't have killed our parents, because I was at school, right."

"You just said that you saw it happen, and then went back to school." The look on his face was scary, he was emotionless at all the sudden. Then I finally got the answer. He killed his own parents when he was six years old and told his sister lies. His sister Katherina didn't know any longer what the truth was. She was brainwashed by her own brother. He was a small psychopath. He noticed that I knew. He walked towards me and said: "I have to go now, thank you for the tea, ma'am," he turned around and asked "Do you get a lot of visit?"

"No, I don't. Why?" The next thing I saw was a murderous face and a knife coming towards me. I don't know how many times he stabbed me, but I also saw pain in his eyes. He then stood up to leave me to die. "I'm sorry ma'am, you've been a good person to me, but at the end of the day, you would have gone to the police." He then left my house.



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