The police sirens echoed through the neighborhood as I rushed back outside. A bloody body was in the middle of the lawn, with a knife in his back. The police pulled into the driveway, and ambulances follow close behind. I know he’s dead, he hasn’t made a single sound, or moved a single bone in the last 20 minutes, although, it feels like hours.
“I don’t know what happened, when I came home, he was there. I just don’t know, why me? Why?” I sobbed.
“Ma’am, this isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have controlled what happened today. But you have to tell me, you didn’t see anything? Nobody was on the streets when you came home?” questioned the police.
I swear, this is an interrogation. They think I did it. Well, they can think what they want for now. I never did anything, and I never could.
“No. I never looked at the body. I saw something on the ground, but they were face down,” I replied.
Still questioning the police made a valid point. “Ma’am, your report says your son was home, is he here now? Could we please speak to him?”
Jason? Jason? Come down the police want to talk to you”
I open up his door and see a note on his bed, it read, “When you see this, I will be dead.”