Jennifer McKay, she was 35 years old. She always lived her life the way her parents expected and wanted her to. Jen has so much integrity. Always that girl with the smile on her face, even when she was going through rough patches in her life.
“It was icy November morning when I got the call. She glances over to where there once was a wall phone. There were ripped out phone cables and wires. Across the room was a dent in the wall.
“Who called you?” her 14 year old son, Jacob, asked.
“It was a nice lady. She called to bare me the bad news. In 1994, in this sleepy town, there wasn’t much news unless someone was hurt, won something or someone died. I braced myself and I told her, are they dead?” Locking her eyes on something, Jenny gets up and walks over to the fire.

“Hello, is this Jennifer McKay?”
“This is she. Whom may I be speaking to?”
“Hello Jennifer, my name is Monica Suarez; I’m from the local police department. I have some news for you.” She was choking on her words. Why? What’s the news? I let out a sigh for reassurance that I was still on the other line, so she began talking again.
“Well, I’m really sorry to tell you this, but your parents were in a car accident. Their car was found in the lake, but their bodies haven’t been found yet.” Monica paused for a second, taking a sharp breath.
“I feel very guilty about what happened but we promise we will do something to whoever is responsible for this tragedy. We will out that man in jail until he rots. I have to go, nut if anyone comes looking for you, call me. Here’s my number.” I didn’t even realize what she was saying.
“Can you give me a second; I’m getting a piece of paper.” I scurried across the room to try to find a pen and a paper.
“Okay.” I quickly wrote down the number and stuck it on the fridge so I wouldn’t lose it.
“I promise.” Monica says, and then she hangs up. All I see is my whole world, the one I have came to love, fall apart and torn to shreds.

The next day, I go down to the police station. They had told me to go pick up something my parents had left me, but was only to be given to me if something tragic happened to them. When I get there, they take me to a room, and hand me an envelope. I say my thank you’s and good bye’s, and leave. I open the envelope, only to find my parents will. They left me everything they own. All their possessions and credit/ debit card information.
The next morning I go down stairs and start my morning routine, but when I open the curtains, some has painted YOUR NEXT on my window. Ok now I will start to panic. I call Monica and tell her what happened and now she’s on her way. We start taking pictures of it as evidence then scrubbed it off. I head to school. Monica let me have an option to miss school because of my loss, but I kind of wanted to pass my sophomore year of high school.
“Where have you been this week?” My friend Jess asked. Oh no, my face starts to get hot. I can feel it. No, I can’t do it. I thought I could be at school but the more I know someone wants to kill me and they killed my parents, I feel envy growing inside of me and I need to find out why they would do this. As I’m walking home, I see my neighbor being a creep peeking out his window and hardcore staring at me.
Ring ring ring Who could be calling me at this hour? Its 3:00 in the morning!
“Hello?” my voice is all raspy.
“I’m coming for you. You will be mine. I got your parents and now, you’re next.” Then the line goes dead. Wha- what is even going on? Why would someone do this? I know I should be frightened but honestly I’m really mad! I rip the phone out of the wall. Whoever this person is, they caused me pain, and depression. Why would they do this!
A few months have passed. I am really getting close to finding out who the murder is. Monica says they just need to trace a couple calls and find the owner of some evidence, and they got it. I’m really nervous; I haven’t been getting many threats. Just that one on my window and a few texts. But when we tried to trace that number, the computer would just shut down.

It was Mr. Blum. My neighbor. He killed them. Blum was the closest thing I had to family. Why? How did I find out? Well I was sleeping one night and that’s when I had been getting really intense death threats, so I had a police stake out my house one night. He saw someone on the side of my house trying to open a window. The police grabbed him, pinned him and took him down to the police station. After he was searched, the found a rope, a knife, a gun and some tools to use. Wow, why is it that the closest to us turn out to be the ones to hate us the most. I can’t ever trust anyone again.