Plan

It had been nearly minutes since my apartment had been set on fire by the madman. I decided to run away into the dark alleyway, making sure that he couldn't reach me with his sniper. I wasn't crazy enough to meet him alone at the mall tomorrow. I knew I needed help and had no other choice but to call Michael. As I called him, he seemed to have agreed to meet up at his house.

When I arrived, I explained to him all of the occurrences that had happened. Though he was skeptical as always, he devised a plan where I would go to the mall as per the killer's request. However, he would closely monitor me. I agreed to the plan quickly as I wanted this to be done and gone.

 I slept on the couch at his house. I always hated sleeping on couches as they are so uncomfortable, but the more uncomfortable feeling was being in Michael's house. We had been childhood friends and we both had dreams of becoming police officers. Though to me it was always a pipe dream, Michael took it seriously. I always mocked him for being so serious about it, but he persisted and seemed to get closer to it as the years went by. Meanwhile, I took the opposite route, regularly consuming all kinds of drugs- cocaine, marijuana, you name it- and not to mention loads of alcohol. It all came to a head one day when I got drunk and hopped in my car, driving to a party in my drunken state. I injured two people killing one, which was Michael's brother.

It was that day that ruined my life. Even though I deeply regretted it, nothing could bring a dead man back. I may have barely escaped prison time with the connections my mom had, but I was permanently found guilty in the minds of the people I hurt that day. I ignored it as much as I could, but sometimes it couldn't be ignored. 

As the meeting drew closer, Michael and I arrived at the mall. The plan was for me to meet the killer as scheduled, and Michael would follow from behind. He was skeptical of this and believed my own paranoia to be the cause, which was very frustrating. I showed him the recorded phone call, however, and he admitted that because of my mother's killing, he would help me out if I was telling the truth.

 I walked around the mall, making sure to stay in the secured, less populated area. I eyed the place, trying to find the killer, while Michael trailed behind me. My instructions were clear: walk around, look forward, and never look back. As I walked, I noticed a man wearing a pink sweater with glasses and a buzz cut. I approached him carefully, believing that he might be the killer. As I came closer, he turned, and it was not the killer. Then, I received a call on my phone which I answered. "Do you pay attention to the news?" The voice was familiar. It was the killer. I was dumbfounded by what he said, and then it occurred to me to check the news. It had happened, a children's hospital had been blown up. I was horrified by this disgusting act of savagery. How can someone be so depraved? I looked over at Michael, who was sitting on a chair behind me. He must be devastated by this horrific event as well. I walked over to him with tears in my eyes. Michael was on the verge of a mental breakdown, and then a knife came at his throat and slit it. It was then thrown.

With my reflexes intact, I grabbed the blood-soaked knife as the words "murderer!" were screamed at me. I looked up to see the man, the killer, and saw the horror-stricken faces of everyone around me. They immediately called the police. It took a few seconds for me to realize what I had done, and I couldn't believe the mess before me. As soon as Michael's lifeless body fell to the floor, the killer made a run for it, and I chased after him. Several people tried to stop me, but with no other choice, I punched my way through. Finally, we exited the scene, and I was still hot on his trail. He hopped into a black car, so I punched an elderly man and stole his motorcycle. I chased the killer through the streets, but he always seemed to be one step ahead of me. I knew I would never catch up to him, but fortunately, I had memorized his license plate. Although he managed to escape me this time, I was confident I would find him later.

As darkness fell, the police started pursuing me. I knew there was no point in explaining my side of the story because they wouldn't believe me. So, I decided to go and find the killer myself. Luckily, I located his car and the place he was heading to. However, I noticed several police officers patrolling the area. I took a few steps back, and to my dismay, saw officer's lights surrounding me. With limited escape options, I hid inside a trash container, enduring the awful smell.

Taking deep breaths, I tried to remain as quiet as possible. I could hear their footsteps growing closer. I started to sweat, filled with worry. But there were more pressing problems. I felt something moving inside the trash can beside me, and to my surprise, it was a raccoon. It began hissing, creating too much noise. Desperate to maintain silence, I grabbed it by the mouth, holding its body tightly. The raccoon fought back, scratching my hands. I thought this was the end, but fortunately, the officers continued walking without opening the trash container. Once I was certain they were far away, I released the raccoon and quickly made my way out of there. Now, standing in front of the killer's house, I was ready for the tables to turn.