The Shovel

April 13, 2018
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There was blood. Blood everywhere. When I heard my neighbor Larry singing wildly, I had expected to see him dancing or doing something crazy, not evil. I could see Larry holding a bloody shovel in one hand and two shiny pennies in the other. I crept closer, holding my breath all the while and peered through his fence.
Larry was standing over something, a body. He began to laugh wildly. I then saw that the body belonged to my father, Tom Miller. He was dead, with fresh blood still flowing freely from his head. I gazed in complete horror as Larry placed the pennies on my father’s eyes and dug him a shallow grave with the very shovel he had killed him with. I let out a small whimper as Larry turned to meet my eyes. He strode towards me, ever smiling until he stood right in front of me. He raised the shovel above his head and...I woke up.






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