The lights flashed outside the window. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. The sirens cut off and I heard car doors open and then slam shut. There was knocking on the door and a man’s voice said something loudly but I wasn’t paying attention to the words.
I slowly walked over to the door and reached up to open it but then stopped with my hand outstretched towards the latch. My hands were covered in blood. I looked down at my top, it was all over me.
The voice spoke out again, the words still didn’t make any sense to me.
I grasped the latch and turned it, letting the door swing inwards as suddenly police officers swarmed into the room, followed by the paramedics. One of the officers put his hands on my shoulders and walked me outside.
The lights continued flashing, red, blue, red, blue. There were a lot of people, people I knew, nosey neighbours, stood outside in their pyjamas. I shivered as I looked up towards the sky. It was the middle of December and snow cascaded down lazily, a stark contrast to the urgency of the people in uniforms rushing around me.
I was sat in the back of one of the ambulances as paramedics checked me over, making sure none of the blood was mine. It wasn’t. It was my mothers.
The slow drone of someone talking started to penetrate my foggy mind, they were saying the same thing over and over again. It seemed important.
I tried to focus on it and it took me a while but eventually I made it out, they were calling my name.
I shook my head to clear the cobwebs and looked up towards the officer that had asked the question, “yes?”
“Eric, sweetheart, what happened? Can you tell us what happened to your mother?”
“My dad, he… Oh God, what did he do. How could he do this. You have to catch him. Please catch him.”
“Believe me, we’re trying,” says the officer who brought me to the ambulance. “Come on, we’ll have to go to the station for now.”
“Okay,” I stand slowly and follow the officer to her car. She lets me sit up front.
She switches off the lights on top of her car, replacing them with the white headlights. It reflects off the thick snowflakes, making them almost blinding. We set off through the snow, tires crunching.