What Really Happened-2

Trigger warning : violence, gore and murder

"I looked around. There was nothing I could use.

Hmm, didn't he say something about plumbing tools in bathroom because his toilet was clogged. I rushed towards the bathroom, glanced around and just like that stupid old mutt had said, the tool box was lying beneath the sink.

.. I picked up the toolbox and rummaged through it. There was a wrench, a hole saw, a metal - I looked again at the hole saw and something just clicked in my mind.

I picked the hole saw up and Mr. Know-it-all, who knew it was his time to shine, smirked and whispered his plan to me.

I had to give it to him, he really was a nerd. I scanned around for a bolt, and screwed it carefully into the hole saw. Locking the pliers, I made sure it was firm enough. And smiled at it.

Walking out of the bathroom, I stalked towards the now-dead body of father.

"I am sorry but if you had not failed in biology, this wouldn't have happened. You'd have known that mother was not a cheater and all this wouldn't have happened. Oh well. Guess you're not lucky enough", I sighed at him.

Then, I held his face which had moved to the side, and drilled it into his eyesockets."

- what the actual -

"I continued rotating the hole saw back and forth.

And just a few minutes later, I was holding his green eyes in my hands. Though they were a little bloody, they looked beyond beautiful to me.

"Ooh, now we could replace our other eye with one of these and then we won't look weird to other people", Ms. Jolly urged.

She was right. I looked at father's face again. His bloody face now" - no, this was it. I was not reading it anymore.

I don't know what I had expected but it definitely wasn't this. I was literally shaking. I quickly threw the diary in my bag, my hands trembling.

Does this mean one of the eye that I found was her father's? No, please God. Why would she give it to me when she? - oh, I didn't want to know or think about this anymore. No, I just wanted to puke -

"Sarge, there is someone in here. I heard a shot around here and saw a flash of light coming from under the door a few minutes ago. At first, I just thought it was just my imagination running wild but I definitely think I heard something again", a muffled voice came from the other side of the door. Uhoh. Guess i shouldn't have panicked loudly? Oh well.

Wait, did he just say 'sarge'? Oh crap. Oh fuck no.

Why? I was a 19 year old girl. I wouldn't even hurt a baby (actually I would, for self defense of course, but they didn't need to know that) - why did they need to involve the freaking cops to catch me?

I would've easily gone with the security guard that had mysteriously left his post downstairs.

Maybe...

Well...

Ugh, if they offered me something in return, I would've gone with them without creating a ruckus.

I also needed to get my swears and curses right. Who uses the word 'freaking' anymore?

"Whoever is inside the room, you have exactly 2 minutes to surrender. Put down any weapons you have...", the voice pulled me out from the chain of my thoughts.

It was a literal dead end. How would I get out? I couldn't just open the door, smile and ask for mommy. They'd shoot me.

Way to state the obvious.

No, really I am serious. And obviously I couldn't stay here doing nothing.

They would shoot me if I stayed here too. And then boom, my brain would be on floor, splattered. Imagine my brain resting and chilling on the floor, finally at peace after all the thinking I had done, when I would be dying.

Now, that's a sad thought. I didn't want my brain to rest. Not yet at least.

And what's even more sad was that I had chosen the worse time possible to get sidetracked. Ugh, I should get my act together. If I did not act wisely, my brain would be on the floor in the aforementioned condition.

So I did the only logical thing I could have thought of. And that was pulling out a meat sceptor.

Just kidding. I pulled out her diary again.

No, I am not an idiot.

And no, I was not going to read it further while I was going to die. I was going to see if there was a way out. I mean, there had to be. She got out. Didn't she? Even if it was on days the museum was open, and even when everyone had left the place, there was no way she got out the normal way, not if she wanted to not get caught. She got out.

And so could I. Just please let her mention how she did it, please God.

I did not want my brain splattered, thank you very much. Neither did I want to be minced. If that's what cops did.

"You have exactly 1 minute remaining."

Oh God. Please. I flipped through the pages.

"That was..." - no, -

"And "- nope, pls let there be a clue to get out -

"And incase you are stuck there, you can just use the window in the bathroom to get out, you dumb bitch. There is a pipe beneath it which..."

Ah, of course. The cliche window in the bathroom.

Always the one to help poor eye-drilling murderers, axe-swinging killers and damsels in distress.

"30 seconds. You have.."

Oh crap. Got to go.

I scurried towards the bathroom door, gave it a good push and lo and behold, there it was, just above the toilet, and just in my size, by which I mean I could easily fit into it.

I thanked my guardian angels, God, E and whatever divine entity was helping me out, closed the door behind me because I was not going to repeat my mistake. Stepping on the toilet seat, I tried to unlock the window - AND WHY THE HELL WAS IT JAMMED??

"15 seconds."

Oh fuck this.

(Finally, a good curse.)

And I jumped into and through the window.

Just kidding.

No I am not.

I am not a dumb bitch, but that was the only way.

That's what dumb bitches say.

Blood pounded through my veins. Everything was quite.

For a second, nothing happened. It was as if a zombie apocalypse had happened and every single person was either eaten or bitten and turned into a zombie. And then when the zombies had nothing to eat, they died. It was that much silent.

And I? I was in the air. I was flying. Well, falling actually, but I like to think that just for a moment I was flying.

And then, reality came crashing. Or rather, I did.

I fell down on the very harsh ground that scratched my whole body.

I felt the glass shards piercing into my arms. I was so so so glad I had covered my face and eyes with my arms. I could of lost an eye in the stunt I had pulled.

E would've liked that.

The screams and shouts brought me back from my train of thoughts. I had to stand up and run. So why wasn't I doing that? Why couldn't I do that? Why were my hands trembling? I did not even get my answers when -

BOOM.

Oh crap, they were fucking shooting at me.

That was enough motivation for me to get the flip outta there.

I was right. I had to work on my swear words. I was only good at them sometimes.

----

The crickets were chirping in the background. It almost made it feel like an awkward scene in a video where the chirps of crickets are edited to make it feel more aw- okay, I would stop.

I shuddered remembering whatever happened was just moments ago.

I was sitting on the wooden bench, my face was wet with tears. I had to admit, I was not that strong. Of course I wasn't.

I just found out that the person, on whose chair I was spinning on, was brutally murdered and eye-drilled into by the person whose diary I had in my bag.

All this was so so effed up.

The only thing I was glad about was that I had not thrown the glass pieces back there. Glad that I was not stupid. I knew they were going to test the blood on it out and then shoot me at my house and I was glad that I had my hood up the time I jumped. If I didn't, they would have gotten my hair, tested it and then boom, my brain : splattered.

There could be more evidence, yes but that would take a little more time, which would definitely be a help.

I now knew why it was said to 'believe your instincts', I had been lucky to bring the diary because let's admit it, I was so dim that I would probably have spent the 1 minute weeping, crying and shaking.

If only my instincts were good enough to stop me from coming here in the first place.

And also not so lucky for bringing it, because now my overly active brain would manage to drag me down into the scenes it would create from what I had just read.

And it wasn't even like I only read it. It was like I was the witness. Because I had been sitting right there, where he was murdered. And I had actually imagined each and everything she had written.

Oh crap.

And the other thing I wanted to mention was, that E blinked a lot. She herself wrote it. Like she literally blinked after every - yeah, I should definitely stop.

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