prologue.

Prologue. Her blood splattered on my face. I felt it, yet I felt nothing. I never thought anything could penetrate human skin that easily, and at such a rapid pace, not even a tiny, spiky knife. 

He kept smashing the life out of her, and I watched it like a horror movie. I was petrified, but I felt like if I stopped watching, I'd realize that it was real. He came to a halt and slowly raised his head. A horror film was completed with his face and torso covered in a red stream of blood. I stopped breathing for a few seconds as the monster stared at me. I got a glimpse of him as the slimy blood trickled down his cheek. I started breathing again but way too fast. I took a step back and screamed, so loud that I heard my voice echo in my ears. Mr. Langford rushed in. He stood beside me. He was quiet. We were all quiet, but I was breathing way too loud.

"Go outside Ariana," Mr. Langford told me. His voice was sharp, filled with courage. I gulped and obeyed him. When I arrived outside, I saw my mom rushing towards me, not minding if there was any car passing by. She met me standing motionless on the front porch. Her sky-blue eyes had turned gray, like a cloud that's about to rain. I didn't know if she rushed to me because she heard me scream, or if Mr. Langford had already informed her about what had just happened. She squatted down on me, and gripped me tightly by the arm. I was numb. 

"It's fine," she said and stroked my hair. I saw someone butchered to death, yet she was audible enough to say it was fine. Nothing seemed fine. I looked at her, unsure of what she meant by that. "Everything is fine," she repeated. Her voice was soothing enough to believe, so I nodded. She hugged me tightly, but I was still paralyzed by the horrifying image that I couldn't shake. I started to hear sirens wailing as police cars arrived at the Oscars. There was an ambulance too. I drew back from my mother's embrace as I observed how quickly the cops scurried inside, not even giving us two seconds of their attention and as if my mother and I were ghostly beings. I became tense again. He was still inside the house with Mr. Langford, and things looked really serious. Yes, I knew someone had died, but I still didn't understand what was going on. When I turned to face the wide-open-entrance door, curiosity moved my feet, but my mom pulled me back. "Let's go home, honey." Mom took me by the hand, with Kaela's book in the other.

As we marched across from the Oscars, I felt the urge to look behind me, and I did. That's when I saw him being handcuffed and held by an officer. We shared another terrifying gaze before Mr. Langford threw him into the backseat of the car. Mikaela Ayesha Johnson has been murdered by his eleven-year-old best friend, my best friend.