12 LSAFH

"What were you doing down there?" she asks.

"I was removing batteries from my old animatronic stuffed bear. When looking through my memory box, I heard it was still making noise, but it's broken. I needed the screwdriver to get the batteries out." I manage to make up a lie.

I stir my pasta around with my fork as I wonder about the missing people files in the storage room. Someone could've been here before me and my mom moved in, someone sinister.

"You okay?" my mom studies my expression.

"Yeah, I'm fine... So, why did you hide it from me? Why did you never tell me about it?"

She stares at me dumbfounded for a moment, "Alexis, I didn't want to hurt you. I know I waited too long, and obviously, someone else had to tell you. But I've felt like if I told you, you would be mad at me, and I don't know what for, but I was just too afraid to tell you the truth and I'm sorry."

"Which do you think is better? Telling the truth when it happens, or lying about it for nine years, making everything worse when the truth is discovered? You do realize it's going to take longer for me to get over this than getting over his death, right? I wanted closure when I thought dad was only killed by a drunk driver, but instead, I had to find out that some psycho lady who knew him years before my parents met killed him because she was obsessed with him. And you didn't even bother to tell me that you've been friends with my friend's mom since high school." I throw my hands up in a rage.

"You never tell me about your friends, so don't throw that me. Who even told you about all of this? Are you friends with Easton?" And to answer your question, I was too corrupted to make a decision so I never told you the truth."

I'm beginning to lose my temper, and as I think of a way to respond. I lose focus with the conversation and draw attention towards my hands. I watch them tremble from all of the stress that is overflowing my nerves. I try to draw myself back into reality, but once again I am forced into my own imagination, being drawn away from everything that was once in focus.

Should I even be upset? Is it reasonable on my end to throw a fit about the situation I have been put in? Let alone the fact that my mother had been through more than I have. I feel like I need to prove a point about the circumstances that have affected me in this way although she is fully aware that I am not happy.

"I just think that you should've told me beforehand instead of putting yourself through this, mom. We're both not happy because of what she did- and by the way, she came to our house the other day and talked to me about it, said that she has bipolar disorder and that's what made her do what she did- but I don't buy any of it." I explain.

Her eyes widen and in an instance, she removes herself from her seat and inspects the house as if someone had broken in unnoticed.

"What are you doing?" I watch as she peeks out of the blinds.

She scurries over to me and looks me dead in the eyes, "If she comes over here ever again, do not let her in the house, and I mean it."

I raise an eyebrow, "I wasn't planning on it- but why are you freaking out? You're acting like she's a serial killer or something."

"BECAUSE SHE IS! She does not have a mental illness, she lied to you! That woman has killed dozens and dozens of people, there have been over fifteen reports of missing people in this town- After she killed your father, she was sentenced to jail for a year and after she was bailed out, she moved here and became a serial killer, and that is part of the reason we moved here. The court won't plead her as guilty since we haven't gathered any evidence yet- she's hiding her tracks and it is preventing us from getting evidence for the court."

I think back to the storage room, and now I am fully aware of who was down there. Should I tell my mom? Is it safe to say that Serena has somehow obtained the files of missing people that she has killed and placed them in a space below our basement? This woman could easily be stalking us right now, we could even be the next people to be dead.

"So then what are we going to do? If she's a serial killer she could easily get in our house and kill us now that she knows where we live. We need motion-activated cameras and a doorbell camera." I declare.

"Yes I know- I'm going shopping this weekend. Oh, and if you're friends with Easton that's great because he was dying to meet you. He likes you a lot, I hope you know that." She sits back down in her chair and continues eating.

So that's what this has led to? She became a serial killer after being obsessed with my father like some kind of sick freak? She definitely has some kind of malfunction in her brain... But what I'm more concerned about is how she knows to cover up her tracks so nobody finds out it was her- and I remember that there was another person with her the day she came to our house to talk to me. Maybe that person is her assistant? Maybe he helps her hide the bodies and her identity?

Someday I'm going to have to figure this out on my own if nobody else can- and besides, I'm the one who found out before my mother could tell me, so that's just a heads up that it's my responsibility to take care of this case, even if I'm not part of the FBI, I'm too young for that anyway. I will prove her guilty, just wait.