I saw my first murder aged seven, a silent, brutal bludgeoning of a man by a woman. It happened in the apartment opposite, and seen like that, distant, it was like watching tv. I took in the action, the blood-drenched furniture, and when the woman left, the almost headless corpse.
Bored, I turned to watch television.
Now, twenty years later, that early memory serves me well. I close the door behind me and in the unfamiliar darkness fumble my way to the window.
It’s always wise to close the curtains. After all, you never know who may be watching.
Horrorshow over 4 years ago
The narrator learned a valuable lesson it seems! Chilling ending.