When I was in middle school I lived a street over and went to school with a kid who’s older brother murdered his parents with a hatchet, and sliced up his siblings. It was horrifying.
His sister was in my class, she survived…barely, she moved away afterwards. The parents died in the attack… she, her older brother, and the 6 year old boy survived. The youngest left the house while the boy was killing the rest of his family and wandered the street with hatchet marks on his body and face, eventually he walked up to a neighbors house and they called the cops for him.
The boy who killed his family attempted to run away through the open sewers away from his house from the cops. He escaped for a few hours but was eventually captured.
It was really strange afterwards. The front glass door had small bloody handprints on it from where the littlest one had tried to escape and two of the front windows had blood on them. The girl I went to school with spent a long time in the ICU. I walked by their house often to get to my best friends house and there was caution tape around it for months. Then the tape fell and no one did anything. I remember thinking that there seemed to be no justice for the family and that lives were so fragile.
The boy that snapped and killed his family used to walk by my house every day on his way home from school. He went to Grissom High School I think so he was older than I was by a few years at least. He used to say pretty normal stuff like, “I like your dog.” but in the most creepy way that once my mom even cried after talking to him. He wore all black, gothy stuff. His window at his house had like a pentagram sticker on it and some anarchist stuff. He lived in the corner room.
After I found out I cried pretty hard. I couldn’t understand what had happened to my friend and her family. The middle school I went to went into a sort of mourning. I never saw that girl again but I hope that she is doing ok.
Imagine almost crossing paths with death.