Shhhh...

That’s the thing about this city- it’s broken, never to be fixed again. 

Up and down the same streets, again and again, and no friendly faces.

Glares.

Murderous glances. 

Distrusting eyes. 

These are the things that meet everyone’s sight as they walk into this dead city. It doesn’t matter if they haven’t done anything bad. It is just the way it is. 

Boarded windows.

Shredded wood.

Broken glass, representing the lives of everyone here.

These things litter the sidewalks, hiding bad omens and bad karma. 

Broken hearts.

Crushed spirits.

Damaged souls.

These things lurk inside the bodies of the residents.

Crying.

Screaming.

Mumbling angrily. 

These sounds fill your ears, damaging you, making you one of them. 

But this city wasn’t broken for no reason. Something did happen… yet no one knows the true story of what happened. They only know little bits and pieces. 

Everyone except me. 

I know the true story, and no one else. 

It all happened one day, in mid-afternoon. It was July 3, 1856. A mere day before the celebration of the U.S’s independence. A young woman was walking in the streets, her black and red heels clicking on the pavement.

Her name was Annie Swilling.

Annie came from a rich family. They had a lot of power but didn’t use it for evil. The opposite was true. They were nicer than the street beggars that lurked on the road, pleading for food and money. They were generous and humble about their fortune. 

Everyone knew the Swilling family.

Everyone liked the Swilling family.

Everyone adored the Swilling family.

 At the time, this city wasn’t broken. Everyone was full of happiness. Their souls and hearts were full of life.

Then the day happened, and it kept on happening, and all of that hope and spirit vanished. 

Young Annie was walking in the park. She was only 21 at the time. She was destined to have a great life, a happy life, but the force of evil came, and all that would be taken away very soon. 

She was strolling around, humming merrily. It was summer. The golden rays of the sun were shining on her like a spotlight. The puffy white clouds were swimming in the sky. The birds were chirping merrily, playing a lazy game of tag in the trees. Annie was excited for the next day, for the celebrations of July 4th. Little did she know, that day would never come for her.

She was walking when a movement caught her eye. A figure ran past her, a blur of black and malice. She twisted around but saw no one there. She quickened her pace and heard someone behind her, the sound of footsteps. She turned around again, but no one was there. She heard a sound in the bushes, but when she went to inspect, no one was there. A mere gust of wind caused the sound. At this point, Annie got scared. She knew someone was following her, but no one was close to her, and no one looked suspicious. No one was wearing black. She speed-walked towards the nearest bench and sat down, assuming she was safe.

She was wrong. 

That is when she heard a voice.

A vicious, cold, and evil voice. 

“ Your time has come, my sweet. Goodbye.”

She felt a sharp pain in her shoulder, and her world faded into the darkness. 

Everyone nearby screamed, they rushed to Annie’s side, trying to figure out if she was still alive.

She was dead.

A blur of lights as the police and ambulance came.

Peoples’ cries of terror.

In all the hectic, they missed one major part.

The killer was gone. 

She was rushed to the hospital. The doctors inspected the wound on her shoulder. There was a hole where an arrow sat, puncturing her skin. They pulled the arrow out, did some tests, and found out what killed her.

Poison.

The arrow was covered in deadly poison that kills anyone when it enters a person’s body.

Everyone knew the Swillings, and everyone knew what happened in a matter of seconds. People were gossiping about it on the streets when they heard something that shocked them.

A piercing scream of shock.

Loud sobbing.

These sounds belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Swilling, Annie’s parents. 

July 4th was ruined. Everyone was too much in grief and shock to be celebrating. Instead of the field filled with people wearing red, white, and blue, it was abandoned.

Forgotten.

Just like this city. 

The funeral took place in a church one week after the dreadful day. Everyone was crying. There was something nobody knew. The killer was lurking in the church, picking out its next victim.

…

Ever since that day, the same thing happened over and over again. People were dying with arrows filled with poison inside their bodies. Everyone was growing more and more tense. At least one person died each day, and the killer was never found. Then an investigator found out something; all the people who died had died in the same place. Where was that place? Well, it was the park.

Ever since that discovery, nobody stepped foot in that park. It became empty.

Deserted.

Rejected by the people. 

People then took it up a notch, fearing newcomers might go inside the park. 

They built a fence.

But not an ordinary fence.

This fence was a nine-foot wall made of pure black metal, with sharp one-foot spikes at the top. A sign was placed at the entrance;

“ Don’t go inside! This place is cursed! If you go inside, then you will die!”

Nobody even went near that park again.

Nobody except the killer.

How did they get in?

Well, they had their ways. 

Ever since then, the people of this city were broken. They were scared of everyone, even though this event happened a few years ago. People simply lost things that are essential to life.

Trust.

Hope.

A soul.

They lost everything they had inside themselves, replaced with bitterness. 

Only one person was happy.

The killer. 

Their mission had succeeded, and they were joyful.

Now, I know who this killer is, but I will never tell anyone.

Why?

Well, I simply don’t want to.

Why?

Because if people knew who that person was, then they won’t be scared anymore, fearing for their safety. They will have their joy and hope back. 

What’s the point of my hard work if it is to be destroyed?