Three Broken Windows

TW: murder

I woke up with a headache. Something felt weird. Something was off. As I looked around, nothing seemed to be different. Except for one thing. There was a broken window. It looked like it had been hit with a heavy object, maybe a rock. I decided maybe it had been the wind, so I moved on. I got up and started getting ready for school. When I got out, it was already 8:15, which was very late, but my mom hadn’t started yelling. Something was definitely off. 

I walked downstairs and couldn’t hear a single noise. “Mom? Dad? Andy?” No answer. And so I decided to go to their rooms thinking maybe they had some school event or something. I entered my parents room and I noticed there was a broken window, just like the one in my bedroom. But they weren’t there. The last chance of getting an explanation was finding Andy, but she wasn’t in her room either. There was yet another broken window. By then I had realized they were all broken right in the middle. 

I looked for them all around the house, but they were nowhere to be found. I called all three of them. No one answered. The logical thing to do was call 911. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to make the call, but I noticed something strange. Saturday, May 8. It wasn’t Friday. I didn’t have school that day. But I have no memories at all of what I now know is yesterday. I felt weird. Something was going on. How on Earth could I have no recollection at all of the day before?

The police arrived and asked a lot of questions that I couldn’t answer. “When did you last see your parents and sister?” 

“Well, I have no idea, but I suppose yesterday.”

“What do you mean you suppose yesterday?” I explained that I didn’t remember anything from the day before, but they clearly thought I was lying. How could anyone believe me anyway? I then asked if they had any clue of what was going on, but they didn’t even respond. They looked confused. They must have thought I was losing it. 

It was already 8pm, I still couldn’t remember a thing and nothing made sense. I could not figure out what was happening. The phone rang. Suddenly there was an image in my head. I was walking towards the phone to answer it while my mom had blood all over herself. She looked scared. I went back to reality and answered the phone that was ringing now.

I woke up to the sound of a knock on the door. I had a headache again. It was the police. They wanted to question me again, but I had nothing new to tell them. I still couldn’t remember a thing, and I wasn’t planning on telling them about my little flashback, they’d think I’m crazy. As I was closing the door, I suddenly heard what sounded like Andy screaming and saw her at the bottom of the stairs, staring directly into my eyes. She also looked scared. I thought I was going crazy at that point, so I called my old therapist and told her what was going on. She said I must be in shock, explaining why I couldn’t remember anything. She also said not to pay attention to what I was “remembering”, as they could be scenes my mind was making up to get answers. “You should rest. The police will tell you what’s going on soon, don’t worry. If you need anything else, just call.”

I was watching a movie with the intention to rest and calm down a little bit. The police were telling me I should just wait until they found something else. I missed my family. I wanted them to be right there with me, watching that movie. They would have liked it. I wanted Andy to make her stupid jokes that made me laugh but my mom complained about. I wanted my dad to cook dinner for all of us, or maybe just order it. I missed them. I only wanted them to knock on the door. I had no one to call. No one to give me company. My therapist, whom I stopped seeing three years ago, was literally my best and only friend. I just wanted it all to stop. I wanted my life back. I wanted all of this to be a nightmare. 

Two weeks had passed. I still knew nothing, but I kept having flashbacks. They got darker and darker every time. It felt like I was in a dark hole. There was no way out of my head and it was driving me crazy. Each one of the flashbacks I had was worse than all the others before. Each one made me believe I was crazier than the last one.

 I probably called the police and my therapist a thousand times each. Neither of them could tell me what I wanted to hear. They kept saying they knew as much as I did, but I didn’t believe them. They had found something and they weren’t telling me. Why weren’t they telling me? Did they know where my family was? Were they found dead? Was I going to be left alone for the rest of my life?

Tuesday night,  around 9 pm. I started to have the lashbacks all at once. It kept getting worse and worse. I heard screaming and cries for help, the phone was ringing, I was running to answer it. There was a knock on the door, I was running to answer it. Windows were being broken. Someone was running, I was chasing them. A door kept getting shut. Someone was going down the stairs. I was going down the stairs. And they all kept repeating. My head wasn’t working. It felt like I was looking for someone, like I was chasing after something. All of a sudden everything stopped. No more screaming, crying or running. And then I heard a knock on the door, but that one was actually happening. It was not my imagination playing games. Someone was at the door. So I ran to get it. As I was walking towards the door, I was only hoping for it to be my parents, waiting for me to give them a hug. Ready to give me a completely logical explanation and tell me everything was over. That I shouldn’t worry any more.

But it wasn’t my parents. They were pointing a gun at my head as they put me in handcuffs and said “Andrew Smith, you’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions...” 

Just like that I felt like my life was over and I had no way out and no answers. Had it really been me? Was I actually capable of such horrible things?