The House Next Door

Anumita Alur

Mr. Snyder

English I, Period 4

31, October 2014



The House Next Door

Sirens were wailing... I got up and rushed to the window, only to see a dead body dragged out of my neighbor's house. The body was hard to see but was definitely a plump little man. I jumped back with a little scream, panting, and taking deep breaths. The stars were twinkling in the night sky, however, they were fading as the gloomy clouds started rolling in. I was squinting to see if there was any other sign of the incident. Then I saw a woman hiding cautiously in a truck, an old pick up truck that was rusty red and parked on the sidewalk near the crime. "Who'd be in their car at 4:00 AM?" I thought.  I was frightened, and was smart enough to know that this body was shot..... straight in the head, knowing it was a murder. I was scared and cried myself to sleep.

My dream was shaking up, I was moaning, dreaming of the murder that took place. My eyes slowly opened up through the tears from last night and I saw my mother shaking me to get up. It was already 11:00 AM! Although it was a weekend my mother didn't let me sleep past 10:00.

"Mom! Stop it! I wanna sleep!" moaned and groaned Melody. " I know sweetie but I just woke up too." My mother usually has a soft and beautiful personality, but this morning she had sleepy eyes,

wrinkled skin and crazy hair! All of the beauty seemed to have gone away. My dad is usually on business trips, which is a waste because he doesn't earn anything. I felt like telling my mom about the murder that took place, but I didn't want to startle her first thing in the morning. I decided to wait.



"I have a severe headache" complained my mom.

Well there goes me telling her, I thought. If I even talk about this murder she will go around yapping around about me and my "behavior." My mom and dad are a little low on money and struggle to pay our rent.

After freshening up and eating my delicious apple pancakes, I decided to go to the neighbors and see what was going on. I wore my daily clothing jeans and sweatshirt along with some converse, styling my hair into a braid. I decided to take a camera with me... maybe if I wanted to solve this little case on my own. I ran downstairs, yelling out that I am leaving, although I didn't get an answer. Running down the road, I saw that there were caution tapes surrounding broken glass and fingerprints. I asked the policeman, "Officer, can I look inside just to see what happened?" The officer glared at me, as if the answer were obvious. I glared back at him.... I immediatly stopped, for my mom had taught me good manners. The officer mumbled, "Please stay out of this investigation, it is private." I stayed still, a little scared and then nodded my head gradually. I was not satisfied at all, but couldn't argue with the law after all.

As I walked down the street, I saw a vehicle, the exact same truck I saw in the night! "Nah, that was just a dream, it can't be true" I thought. But then I got a sudden spasm right at the pressure point in my head. I sat down taking deep breaths. Moaning I got a quick glimpse of what I remembered seeing last night. There in the short glimpse was a woman sitting in the pickup truck, staring at the crime scene. However, the truck was empty at the moment.

As I was walking towards the truck, I couldn't believe what I saw. I peeked inside to see if anyone could have been in there. No, but worse, laying on the ground of the truck was a gun, with blood all around it. I couldn't stop myself but to tell the policemen, as they would probably know what to do.

I slowly approached the same policeman, "Sorry to disturb you again officer, but you might want to check what is inside the truck." The policeman seemed like he didn't have a good night's rest, for he was really cranky and didn't exactly want to check out what was in the truck. He looked in and gasped. He immediately called the other officers. He thanked me and said with a bit of a southern accent, "Thank You, but you might want to go home." I smiled faintly showing I respected the situation, but I wanted at least a little appreciation, it would have helped.  I went back home trying to think this whole thing through. It was a great day, and a little breeze flowed from the ocean. I lived in a beach town, and there was a perfect view of Santa Cruz beach from my house. I looked at what the policemen were doing and they knocked at each person's door asking whose pickup truck that was.  

            I stared out the window gloomingly, a bit bored, but something caught my eye. One of our neighbors claimed that the truck was hers. I was shocked! Mrs. Bloomington can't be the murderer she is a sweet, kind, and chubby woman who always has the fresh scent of cookies being baked from her house. The policemen showed her what was inside the truck, but all she did was shrieked and begged, "Please don't think its me, I wouldn't ever do such a crime!" Mrs. Bloomington always believed in religion and had all these weird stories about what God will do to you if you do anything that will not please Jesus. I knew it wasn't Mrs. Bloomington, for I had proof.

ONE WEEK BEFORE:

Ding Dong! I ran to the door and to my surprise it was Mrs. Bloomington.



"Hi Melody! May I speak to your mother please?"

"Of course you can! Mom! Come here!" My mother switched off her stove immediately and hurriedly came to the door, wiping her hands on her apron. "Yes?" she said breathing a little bit faster. I ran to my room because I knew my mom would anyways send me up. However, being the snoopy kid I already am, I decided to overhear their conversation.

"Hi Samantha, I am hosting a little potluck on Friday, just our little neighborhood," said Mrs. Bloomington a little bit fast as if she was in a rush to go somewhere. My mother thought about it for a little bit and said, "Sorry can't make it because I have to go to the hospital that night." Mrs. Bloomington, jolly as usual said, "Oh that is alright, we will meet some other time. Also, rent time is coming so get it ready!" My mother nodded her head a little bit and thanked our neighbor.

BACK TO PRESENT DAY

Now I am pretty sure that yesterday was a friday. Mrs.Bloomington was hosting a party and her parties usually last pretty long. She had no way of killing anyone. One thing was for sure someone framed her. I wanted to go outside and tell the policemen that Mrs. Bloomington couldn't have done it because she never has the courage to talk by herself. But, I knew they wouldn't let me, so I decided to stop myself.

I searched up some things about the person who was murdered (online), probably the richest man in town. I knew that it wouldn't be a surprise if someone tried to murder him, anyone would want his riches. Apparently he worked at the same hospital as my mom. I think he was a step higher than my mom in profession....probably the boss.



A MONTH BEFORE THE MURDER.... My mom's face was red with anger she didn't feel like eating and had a very bad temper. I asked softly, "What happened mom, are you ok?" " My boss won't promote me, and I need the money to pay the rents and handle this family. I am doing everything I can to get promoted and stupid Mr. Jones gets promoted even when he doesn't do a thing." She was irritated and stressed, acting as if there was no money in the account. That is why I try asking very little from my mom, I know that she goes through a lot of pressure.

PRESENT

For a second I thought that my mom was the murderer but that was way out of her league because my mom is not even close to being cruel.. although it would've made sense. Just that thought made me shiver. I needed to prove to the police that Mrs. Bloomington was not the murderer, I needed to prove to them that she had a party last night and that it was impossible for her to be the murderer. I decided to tell Mrs. Bloomington to tell them that she was hosting a party and that she couldn't have done the murder. Mrs. Bloomington said, "Ohhhhh right! I completely forgot about last night! It's as if I got a little bit too drunk" she said happily. That part where she mentioned how she might have gotten a little too drunk made me worry a little bit. She walked up boldly to the police and said everything I told her too. Surprisingly the police believed her.



"I did it.....I am feeling really guilty," I heard my mom say. I walked drowsily to the kitchen that morning and there I saw my mom talking to Mr. Jones at the kitchen table. But, I thought my mom hated him. I was a bit confused. I hid behind the wall and overheard them talking. "It is ok

sweetie, you had to, remember what I told you, revenge is always the right thing to do." The first thought that came to my head was how dare you call my mom "sweetie." She is a married woman! But, the thought kept coming to my head, why is revenge the right thing? My mom slowly took out a knife, and said with her voice trembling, "This is what I killed him with...... I hid it in our neighbor's car to frame her and make us innocent."

"WHAT!" I shouted accidentally, covering my mouth right after. I could hear my mom gasping and walking slowly towards me. I started crying and kept saying "You couldn't have done it." My mom knew that I had heard everything and slowly hugged me. I moved away her arms and just stared at her, "I will never believe what you said, 'cause I know you are a good person, although I even have evidence." Then my mom confronted herself and kept saying that she felt really guilty about what she did. Mr. Jones said with a little sass, "I will go outside and come back when you guys are done."

Right when Mr. Jones left my mom immediately took me upstairs and told me the truth. "Mr. Jones persuaded me somehow that if I killed the boss, he would give me a load of money and promote me as manager. I couldn't resist that offer and I took it." "But revenge and money is not the answer, Mom!" I said very angrily and very painfully. She yelled at me saying,"What else do you think I could've done! Let us live on the streets begging for money?" Right then she started crying and apologized again and again.

I just listened because murder was NEVER to be forgiven. I just walked away and went to my room, locking the door. I saw Mr. Jones at the window talking to the police, he was pointing toward our house. I was a bit worried, he must've told the police my mom committed the crime! I ran outside and saw my mother just sitting on the floor crying. I told her what I saw and all she said, with her eyes red, "I deserve to be thrown in jail." I couldn't let that happen, what would I do without her?



I ran outside and told the police everything my mom told me about Mr. Jones and how he should be arrested because he told my mom to murder the boss. However, they needed evidence, they crashed into our house and asked my mom a whole bunch of questions. All she did was point to Mr. jones weakly. However, Mr. Jones ran away, the police went to chase him and finally got him to justice!

Mr. Jones was thrown into jail while my mom had to pay them a fine of 10,000 dollars! Well, it was all worth not going into jail. My mom thanked the police greatly and apologized again and again to Mrs. Bloomington for framing her. Mrs. Bloomington would never forgive her for all she had been through. I guess that was all, and for the hospital, my mom did get promoted and they all celebrated! It is funny how with just one persuasive sentence, your whole destiny can change from good to bad.