For the third blogpost, I decided to do a short story. The story focuses on a family that was targeted by a serial killer. I wrote the story through a Merrill's point of view. She's a family member that was having dinner with her family like every night then everything turned upside down.
“Your the hero of your story”
My best knight
“Merrill,” a high pitched voice called out my name. I looked at my mother, fatigue clearly displayed on my face. “Yes” I dragged. “How have you been doing this semester” “Good” Unsatisfied with my answer she pressed, “and your grades” “Good,” I answered again, staring down at my plate. I looked back at them her dejected face, disappointment targeted towards me because we cant carry out a real conversation. She proceeds to ask my 11 year old brother questions, all fitted around the frame of school. He uncomfortably answers her blunt questions eyeing me consistently. For a long time, it has just been me and my brother since my parents are so engrossed in their work, resulting in them not being able to begin a conversation that is not based on the school topic. I look at my father who is deeply captivated by the newspaper. There has been news of a serial killer that murders entire families for months. He flew from another state running but there hasn't been any cases of murdered families in this state. I was terrified at the beginning of hearing these news but for months, there has been no report of him killing any families around this area. I stare down at my plate picking my food. Having no appetite I picked my plate headed to the kitchen and washed it. Afterwards, I ran upstairs to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. I picked the romance novel of my bedside table and was about to read it. I found romance novels very appealing. Anything that had romance in it i will watch it, read it listen to it, whatever it may be. I've always believed in the whole knight thing and how they will be there to save you. Just when I was opening the book, my brother peaked his head in “can I come in” he uttered. “Yeah,” he came in and sat on my bead and gave me the deadliest look. "What" I said, a smile tugging on my lips, realising why he was mad. "Didn't you get the eye communication I was giving you." I chucked. I actually did, but I didn't know he wanted me to do. Changing the subject, we began talking about anything and everything. Suddenly there was a thunderous bang downstairs, followed by the loud high pitched scream of my mother. “Elia” my father roared. Curious as to what was going on, I ran downstairs seeing my father in front of me looking at something that I couldn't see because the wall was blocking it. Halfway down the stairs, I heard a loud deafening sound followed by a bullet flying towards my father. BANG BANG BANG the bullets kept flying his torso, blood flooding around him. Even then, the bullets kept flying. The reverberating sound of the bullets blasted in my ears as my body remained paralysed in the same position. My mother's repetitive screaming remaining in the background as I watched bullets flying at my father. “Merrill” a distant voice called. “Merrill” the voice called again, closer. Just then a wave of concern surrounds me pushing me back into full consciousness as I remember my brother. My eyes wander behind me to the top of the stairs and I see my timid brother staring at the lifeless body in front of him. Immediately the repetitive gunshots stopped for a second and started firing at a different direction. My mothers screaming had stopped. I could feel my heart break with every gun shot. I quickly ran upstairs and dragged my brother back into my room. I lightly closed the door and switched off the lights, then tiptoed to my closet, my brother behind me. As I sat there, I became fully conscious of what just happened. Then a brick of recognition hit me, it was the serial killer that killed entire families. I began having heart palpitations as sweat pickled down my jaw to my neck. I held him tight to the point his skin was pale. He was trembling beneath my grasp, whimpering. I quickly pressed my hand around his dry lips as he continued to shake, his warm tear dripping down my hand. I bent my neck down and whispered to his ear “It’s okay, we’ll get out” Just then I heard the faint footsteps from a distance. The steps grow closer and closer up to the tip of my door and I can feel this unsettling presence. I whimper and press my lips against my brother's head, tears cascading down my face. The unsettling presence growing stronger and the steps growing closer, closer. Eventually he was right outside my closet, and I can hear him sniffing towards us. I squeak as a sharp pain shoots at my palm around my brother's mouth. The closet door flies open and I'm welcomed by the most wicked grin.
The title, My Best Knight With the title, I tried to include both her concept of romance and that night. Merrill is engrossed by the romance topic and believes that at some point she will have a knight that will save her, however, she doesn't get one. Knight sounds the same as night and since these events took part at night, I decided to add irony to the title because for one she didn't have the best night and she didn't have the best knight either.
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