Silent Murders     by Susanna Schiller

	I remember that day. It was cold and frosty, yet we never felt the frostbite, 
never saw the little robins shivering in the bare branches of the old oak tree. 
The same thick, withered tree on which we carved our names. 
	It was our love for each other that helped us to ignore the misery of the day.
       We never knew that anyone could be envious of love. It seemed like such an 
unreal possibility and I suppose that's why we never thought much of being 
careful of displaying our love in the presence of desolate people.
	Our love had blinded us that day as it was the day we met for the first time 
last year, our anniversary. 
       My partner, Lacy, needed to go home to pack her things as she was moving 
into my old victorian house that very evening.
	I walked her home. It was a nice house, very warm and snugly inside even if it 
did look a bit unwelcoming on the outside, with it's big curtainless windows and 
brown wooden window frames. In the front garden only daffodils grew in the 
summer as Lacy's mother had a wide range of allergies which included most 
flowers. While I walked along the path, head in a daze, I didn't really notice 
the slight scuffling noise behind me. 
	Later on though I heard a sound that could only have been an evil laugh. I 
turned around, no one there. I dismissed it wondering why my mind was playing 
tricks on me on such a celebration worthy day.
        I started walking once more, aware of every little crunch in the gravel 
path. I remember telling myself not to be so paranoid. The path got more narrow 
and the sky more black. I quickened my pace in spite of myself. It felt like I 
had regressed to childhood once more. I was just being silly, 'I'm not in some 
teen movie horror scene' I told myself sternly, or so I thought.
       Turning around suddenly, I saw him, he was quite small in height, perhaps 
that was why I missed him before. There was a certain familiarity about his face 
most of which was covered by his long, unruly ginger hair. His ginger freckles 
gave him a boyish face and he looked about 18 but it was obvious in the way he 
moved that he was about 30, more the age of me and Lacy really. He looked like a 
harmless man, he didn't look capable of vicious murder, I think that's why I 
didn't take him all that seriously when he said to me: ''I've been waiting for a 
long time to do this, and now I'm going to do it, I'm going to kill you.''  That 
was pretty stupid of me really, stupid of me again when he raised the axe and I 
started backwards but tripped. Maybe that's why I'm here today.
	I was in denial really, I just didn't think that my brother, the brother I'd 
shared secrets with, the brother I'd talked with, the brother I'd trusted and 
loved could actually kill me.
	Showing no mercy, he swiped the axe through the air and I turned my back 
and ran. Not being quick enough to take me down by the neck, he chucked the axe at 
my back and by a fluke on his part it landed in the small of my back.
	Remembering this is so painful to me, I never knew what became of Lacy or my 
family because after quite a long time I am still lying here unable to move amid 
the rotting leaves, hoping someday that I will be found and I can seek vengeance 
on a world that never came to my rescue.
	I can hear voices. My time has come.

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