Did Boy Kill?

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๐Ÿ“… Published on June 9, 2013

"Did Boy Kill?"

Written by StupidDialUp

Estimated reading time โ€” 4 minutes

This is Part 1 of the Did Boy Kill? series. You can read the other installments in the linked tag.

I had an incredibly interesting conversation today with someone I love deeply. I do not know what to make of it, but what I do know is that our foundation has cracked, whether he knows it or not. It was one of those conversations that make you question everything you think you knowโ€ฆabout everything.

As I enjoyed a glass of wine after he and I had dinner, we sat across from each other on the floor in our living room when he started the following conversation:

โ€œDid you know I used to live here many years ago?โ€

โ€œDid you now?โ€ I answered, with a smirk knowing I was about to hear some fantastical story.

โ€œYep. I used to play with my son in that park across the street. He loved to swing on the tire rope hanging from that huge tree.โ€

โ€œSo you had a son?โ€

โ€œYep. Heโ€™s a lot older now but I saw him this morning for the first time in a very long time, right there in that park.โ€

โ€œI donโ€™t remember seeing you talk to anyone.โ€

โ€œYou must have been talking to your neighbor friend. I would have let you say ‘hi’ but he is still very angry with me.โ€

โ€œWhy would your son be angry with you? You are the sweetest guy I know!โ€

โ€œWell the last time I saw him, he had a knife to my throat.โ€

At this point I sat up to re-position myself against the foot of the sofa. โ€œHoney, you had a son you never told me about and the last time you saw him he had a knife to your throat? Iโ€™ve seen you almost every day for the last four years and you never mentioned this to me.โ€

โ€œI never thought I had to, but when I saw him today it reminded me.โ€

โ€œReminded you of what exactly?โ€ I curtly asked.

โ€œJust that I saw him and that the last time I did, we were here in this room. It was many years ago.โ€

โ€œWait, you lived here many years ago? What do you mean?โ€

โ€œYeah, many years ago, when I was older. Me, Melvin Jr. and Lou Jean lived here.โ€

โ€œWho is Lou Jean?โ€ I questioned, starting to get a bit uncomfortable with each parlay of the conversation.

โ€œMy wife from long ago silly! I havenโ€™t seen her since I last saw my boy. Always wished Iโ€™d see her again. We actually met at the old creek right up Anderson Road.โ€

That creek had not been around for over 40 years, there is no way he would have known about it had he not lived here. Utterly baffled at that point, I pressed on with the talk since it was completely unexpected and compelling all the same, โ€œWhere is she?โ€

โ€œOh, I donโ€™t know. In heaven I guess.โ€

โ€œIโ€™m so sorry to hear that, she died?โ€

โ€œWell yeah, Melvin Jr. cut her and she was breathing weirdly but I couldnโ€™t wake her up. He cut her right there where you are sitting.โ€

My wine glass almost slipped out of my hand at the shock of the comment. It spilled slightly as I went to catch it, splattering across the white carpet.

โ€œLooked a lot like that actually,โ€ he noted, unaffected.

โ€œI hate to admit it sweetie, but you are starting to scare me.โ€

โ€œSorry. I wanted you to know, since I saw him again today and all. He is just so angry. I donโ€™t know why he is so angry. Didnโ€™t know why back then either. Last thing he said today was that he was coming back here tomorrow night.โ€

โ€œOkay, you can stop making up this story now. Itโ€™s not amusing anymore. You are really starting to scare me.โ€

โ€œIt’s okay, I am scared too. I donโ€™t think he is coming to see you. He knows I am here though so he will probably come see me again. Seeing him with the knife was the last thing I remember before showing up here with you and โ€ฆ.โ€

Suddenly, we heard the front door handle begin to jiggle and I let out a scream in panic. The door flung open and my husband ran in, terrified. โ€œSarah, whatโ€™s wrong? Why were you screaming!โ€ my husband asked as he grabbed me to console me.

โ€œOh thank god it was just you, Tim! You scared me half to death!โ€ As I sat up and tried wiping the rest of the wine off of my nightgown, my husband moved to the kitchen and grabbed some paper towels to assist me. โ€œI was having a very odd conversation with our Mr. Junior here. He was telling me about how, in a previous life, he was married once and had a child here in this house many years ago. And he was also telling me how his son killed his wife with a knife. Even had a knife to his throat at one point.โ€

โ€œOh is that so, Junior?โ€ Tim asked half-heartedly, looking over to find Junior staring at the open front door with a blank, blink-less expression.

โ€œBut mom, he said he was coming tomorrow night,โ€ Junior mumbled, almost in a whisper, as he pointed to the front door.

My neck whipped around so fast I thought it was going to rip right off my shoulders. As I peered into the door left open by Tim, I called out to Junior exasperated but relieved, โ€œBut honey, there is no one there! Tim, shut the door please…quickly please.โ€

As Tim reached the door, my four year old son coldly spoke, โ€œHe was standing behind dad when he came in and heโ€™s there now, Mom. He is looking right at you.โ€

Transfixed at the closing crack of the door, I saw nothing but the night in the distance and yet I felt everything from tonightโ€™s conversation; relieved itโ€™s not tomorrow but petrified that it will be.

It’s been several hours since my husband and son went to bed. Unable to sleep, I decided to do some research. I found this article online: [Did Boy Kill?]

Like the Nimer family, I live on Staten Island and tomorrow, I think we are going to die.

Credit To – StupidDialUp

๐Ÿ”” More stories from author: StupidDialUp


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