"Masquerade " by Avianah B

 

“It never fails, does it,” I say looking at the T.V. Every Monday night since the beginning of October, there’s been a murder. Every Tuesday morning, there’s the same news report, but with a different victim.

“It’s the same this morning too?” I heard my sister ask.

 

“Yeah, same report, but different victim. This time, it was a 20 year old male. They identified him a few minutes ago. They never disclose the names though,” I replied.

“As long as it’s not anyone I know. I do feel bad for the victims' families and loved ones. They must be dealing with so much grief,” My sister sighed, “Just be careful when you’re coming home from work.”

“I will,” I assure her.

 

“And don’t forget to wear your mask this time! I can’t believe you almost got fired because of your carelessness,” She says as she’s leaving to go to work, leaving me to get ready for my own job.

I quickly ate my breakfast, realizing I didn’t have much time before I had to leave, then got dressed, grabbed my mask and headed out the door.

I walked my usual route to work this morning, greeting the neighbors on the way like I normally do. It felt different than normal this time, though. Like someone was following me. I took a quick look around, making sure there were no suspicious characters around me. All I saw was a person walking their dog and the occasional car that would pass by. I thought I had seen a shadow of a person looking at me, but when I looked a second time to check, they were gone.

 

Brushing off the feeling of being watched, I continued on my path to work a little more cautious than before. As I made my way through the door and greeted the workers I ran into with a polite ‘Good morning.’

“Last day before I’m off,” I sigh to myself, then begin my work. I take phone calls and arrange any documents that are needed. Some days it’s not much work and I get to go home early, but on days like today, it feels like there are millions of documents and phone calls for me to take.

After I completed my work for the day, I was able to go home. I dropped off my stuff, greeting my sister, then told her that I was going to head back out.

“Where are you going this time?” My sister asked.

 

“Store, I need something for work and I need to print and make copies of a few documents. I also need to take a picture of one of them for my boss to make sure they like the way it's formatted,” I told her, grabbing the list I wrote from the counter and putting it in my bag.

“You took work home again? You don’t usually get this much, is there something going on in the office?” She asked me.

“I’m the only one in my department right now. The other workers from my department aren’t coming back due to the fact that my company can’t seem to organize the vaccination statuses and COVID tests. They’re still getting sorted out and checked.” I replied.

“They still haven’t taken care of that? I thought it would’ve been done by now,” My sister told me.

“No, my job is very disorganized right now,” I told her. I picked up the box, grabbed the car keys, and walked to the door. “I’ll see you later, sis.”

I put the box in the back of the car and got into the driver's seat. I drove to my destination and got out of the car and reached into the box in the back to get what I needed. I put on my mask before entering the location and taking care of my business. I took the picture I needed, then went back to the car.

“I’m finally done,” I muttered to myself, putting my things away in the box placed in the back. I got into the driver's seat, started the car and drove back home. When I opened the door, I saw my sister still sitting on the couch.

“Hey, I’m home,” I greeted her. “By the way, Happy Birthday! I got you something.” My sister stood up to greet me.

“Hey Samena, I thought you’d forgotten-“ she looked up at me and her face changed from one of excitement to one of horror. “What happened to you?! We need to get you to a hospital-“

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not injured,” I told her.

 

“What do you mean you're not injured? There’s blood on you,” she exclaimed.

 

“Ignore that for now. I have something for you,” I say, pulling out an envelope. She took it from my hands and opened it. She pulled out the folded papers and opened them. She was alarmed by the contents of the pages.

“Why-,” She started, but couldn’t continue. I knew she was processing what she was seeing. “Why do you have pictures of all the victims from the news?”

“You already know the answer to that,” I replied.

 

“I wish I didn’t,” My sister muttered. “Why would you kill them?”

 

“You recognize the names on this list don’t you?” I asked, then continued before she could give an answer, “You hated every single one of them. Said that sometimes, you wished they could just be out of your life. Well, now they are! They will never bother you again.”

She never replied to my explanation. She just stared, then pulled out her phone. I already knew who she was dialing. I let her.

“A killer is in my house right now,” she said. I never interrupted or tried to stop her from completing the call.

“1365 Maple street,” She states. I just stood there and watched as she gave them the information. She hung up the phone.

We stood in silence. She was watching my every move. Most likely to make sure I don’t try to run, but she didn’t need to worry.

 

There was pounding on the door. They were trying to break it down.

 

Because I don’t plan on running.

 

The door was broken. Police began running into the house. My sister tells them I’m the killer, shows them the pictures of each crime scene, the list of names, and the notes recorded.

I know this new guilty pleasure of mine puts others in danger.

 

They cuffed my hands, pushing me towards the door. One officer on each side of me.

 

At least now, others will be safe from me.

I was forced into the police car. One officer stayed in the back with me, making sure I didn’t try anything. The other officer got into the driver's seat and drove off to wherever they took criminals like me.

 

Masquerade.