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murders

I Think I’m Being Followed

My name’s Abigail Stitcher. I’m 15 years old, and I think I’m being followed. You see, I live in a relatively small town, with a population of 1,476 or so. Birch Run, they call it. Nothing’s ever really happens there, aside from the occasional fire or robbery committed by some hillbilly American with the brain …

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Mommy Sleeps in the Basement

“Speak louder, please.” I put my hand up next to my ear from the back of the room, signaling that she would need to raise her voice. She took a deep breath. I could see anxiety turning her cheeks beet red, as strands of blonde hair began to fall out of the same nappy pony …

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The Blooming

“Millie, wake up! Come on, it’s your birthday! Today’s a very special day! You’re 18! Mum’s working so you get to spend the whole day with me. Meet me in the living room when you’re ready!” my sister Elena sings cheerfully at me while shaking my mattress. I get out of bed and stare in …

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At 4 AM a Weird SUV Started Following Us

The night was young. In our world at least. 2:14 AM, and me and my husband Ricky were standing out in the open shed behind The Post Searchlight. Stanwyck, Georgia’s local newspaper. Like nocturnal detectives, Ricky and I were wired for the graveyard shift. You had to be when you did a paper route. Every night, …

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Dandelions

The first time I saw Bret, I was nineteen.  I’d found a job working security at Dave’s Storage Unit.  My duties included keeping vagrants and thieves from disturbing the 40 rental units that were laid out in five neat rows in the middle of downtown Atlanta and helping customers with lost combinations for their locks. …

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All My Friends Are Dead

Part 1 All my friends are dead. Don’t take that the wrong way though. I can’t say I knew any of them when they were still alive. Well, at least most of them anyway. I guess I’m what you could call a psychic. I’ve never liked that word though. I can’t read anyone’s mind, see …

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My Son is Terrified of the Day Stalker

Newton, Georgia is a small town near the Alabama border. Less than an hour away from Stanwyck, my husband Robert’s hometown. Newton’s your typical one Wal-Mart, one high school town. People are friendly. And every November, the weather starts getting a little cooler. But there’s also quite a bit of history in Newton as well. …

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I Saw My Name on the News as a Prime Murder Suspect

Part 1 I was sitting on the sofa, eating a reheated slice of pizza, when I saw it. My Facebook profile picture. On the local news. Underneath the text: PRIME SUSPECT IN JACKSON MURDER. I blinked. Rubbed my eyes once, twice. “The prime suspect is 24-year-old Hamburg resident, Amanda Duffy.” My name. She said my name. My heart …

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The Most Terrifying 911 Call I’ve Ever Received

“911. What’s your emergency?” I said as I answered the phone. “There’s a bat in my house.” A loud scream came over the speaker. “Send someone to come and get it.” “Alright ma’am, I will send animal control over as soon as possible.” The caller thanked me and said she will be outside waiting. I …

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When Catfishing Goes Bad

My cousin Patrick was murdered a few months ago. Yeah, Patrick was weird and self-absorbed, but at the end of the day, he was only twenty-four. I didn’t know much about what happened other than what his friend Jamal told me. Jamal had even posted on Reddit about it. The whole ordeal sounded truly terrifying. …

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Trick or Treat

“No, I’m going to stay in. It’s been a long day and the most I intend to do tonight is hand out candy.” “Lame. Look, just for once, ignore your spinster instincts and come to Jackson’s. We’ll get sloppy drunk and play strip Twister.” “Sounds like a blast.” “I already have our costumes picked out.” …

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The Sunnyside Murders

Serial killers have always fascinated me. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve found myself both scared and intrigued by psychos like Ted Bundy or Clementine Barnabet. And as I grew older, my interest only increased. I was from Atlanta. Growing up in lower-class Latino neighborhoods, I’d seen crime all the time. I saw gangs, …

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A Very Special Christmas Supper

The first time you meet your girlfriend’s family is extremely important. Maybe they will become your family too. You have to be funny and charming, but not too funny or to charming that it seems unnatural. You don’t want to be a faker or bootlicker. When I was about to meet Mabel’s family, I couldn’t …

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Jeff The Killer: Scars of Corruption

Jeff The Killer: Scars of Corruption

Before we begin this journey, I want it to be known that when I remember my brother Jeff, I remember a friend. I remember a big brother who taught me how to climb a tree, throw a baseball, play video games and about a million other things. He never beat me up, never took my share of the spending money our parents would send us off to the mall with or made me feel like the tag-along when he’d hang out with his friends.