Time: Don’t know. Date: Also don’t know.
Hi, my name is Zuri and this is day one of this journal and I’m as you all who will be reading this know, the mute serial killer. My plan wasn’t to write my life in this journal for you all just because I won’t talk but if it gets you guys to stop forcing me to speak then I will. I’m supposed to write about my past first I guess so you assholes know why I went mute. My parents were murdered and I blame myself for what happened. It all started back when I was 9 years old. I was a happy, jolly little girl. I thought everything was a joke. One night I was singing a tune so loudly the whole neighborhood would hear me. The lights went off and I figured they went off because of the money problems my parents had not paying the bills. I kept singing, I heard creaks on the floorboards in the other room but I ignored it, I kept singing. My parents started shushing me, then telling me to please be quiet, then to shut up. I didn’t listen. They picked me up and rushed me to the back of the dark house with a hand over my mouth. I was put in a cabinet under the sink as I watched my parents scurry around the kitchen grabbing the biggest sharpest knives and the heaviest frying pan. Mama always told me to never wave around knives because it’s dangerous and you may hit someone or yourself. She started waving it at the long dark empty hallway while hiding ducked down behind the counter. I was wondering why mommy was waving the knife so I poked my head more out of the cabinet to yell, “Mommy! Stop waving the knife around!” She looked back at me frantically and whispered,”Zuri, please stay hidden baby and don’t come out till we tell you too, and be quiet.” She put one finger over her mouth to emphasize be quiet. I looked over at dad quickly throwing whatever cash or credit cards they had in a bag with food or knives. I spoke again asking him not to forget my goldfish before he shushed me as well and signaled me to put my head back inside so he could close the door. About 5 minutes later I heard a lot of thuds and loud noises then suddenly a scream from my mother. I open the door carefully before peeking out quietly to see my mother being held in the air with just a knife through throat. I gasped as I saw a person there holding her up with that knife and I didn’t know what to do but start to push the cabinet door open slowly to get a better look but then it was suddenly slammed shut followed by a thud on the ground. The cabinet creaked open a little bit after and I saw my father’s lifeless eyes looking back at me with a hatchet jammed in his skull and blood spilling out quickly. I stared into my father’s eyes for a while before I snapped back into reality when I heard a deep voice say, “Where’s the kid? Did you hear her shitty singing from the other room?” The other guy dropped my mom with the knife still through her throat answering, ”She’s a kid.” The other guy quickly replied, ”Doesn’t mean she can’t sound like shit.” They started laughing before I heard their heavy footsteps walk around the kitchen and heard them state how me yelling led them to that part of the house and let them know my mom had a weapon. I covered my mouth with both hands and pushed myself back so hard against the inside of the cabinet as they kept looking for me. I was in the biggest cabinet in the kitchen and it only had a few dish towels and dish bottles in there. We didn’t have a lot of stuff so that’s why it was so empty. I stayed there quietly with my hands over my mouth while looking out of the small crack of the open cabinet door. I still heard them walking till I saw large boots stop right in front of the cabinet where it was partly open. I squeezed my mouth with my hands staying quiet as tears fell down my face and my eyes went from the boots to my father’s head behind it. Suddenly I watched a gloved hand grip the door of the cabinet and start to open it till I heard loud sirens and his partner yell “Cops! We got to go now!” His gloved fingers let go of the door and then I heard their footsteps, glass breaking, then nothing. That’s when a minute or so later police come bringing in. I stayed quiet and hidden still as I saw them through the door checking my parents' pulses which was useless because even I could see they were dead with no chance of recovery. I watched quietly but then the door was yanked open and a cop knelt down and looked at me before reaching his gloved hand out and telling me I was okay now. Wanna know something funny? The guy with the boots on earlier had the same boots on as him and the same type of gloves. He sounded like the guy who called my singing “shit” too. I didn’t move for a minute but when I finally decided to get out of the cabinet I did not grab his hand. He gave me a strange look. I know you dumbasses reading won’t believe me but I know something was different about him from the other officers around. When he walked away his footsteps sounded as heavy as the killer who was about to find me. Isn’t it also suspicious how he opened that cabinet first when there’s a whole bunch of other rooms and cabinets to open? He was just making sure I was really there because he failed to open it fast enough sooner. Quick changes happen you know. You should check your officers. Anyway I looked at the scene and looked at my feet where my father’s head was in a full puddle of his blood. Then I looked over at the blood my mother was bathing in by the counter. I didn’t say anything and even if I wanted to, another officer took me out of there and to a hospital. I sat on the table of the room thinking about how I should’ve shut up and maybe my parents would still be alive. The doctors came and asked me questions, but I didn't speak. Not a word came out of my mouth. They brought in more doctors, cops, social workers, and even other kids to try and talk to me but I still didn’t say a word. I kept thinking about how I should’ve stayed quiet. I’m 24 still I’m pretty sure, I haven’t been here that long. I still refuse to speak. None of you fuckers can make me speak again unless you figure out how to go back in time to that day again so I stay quiet when I was supposed to. That’s all of- wait no it’s not. I got one more thing to write about that weird ass cop that happened to find me immediately. He came to the hospital to “check” on me and tried talking to me but I didn’t say a word. That’s when he pulled out his phone and started playing the song "Firework" and told me this should bring some noise in your voice. Wanna know something crazy about that moment that nobody would believe me with even if I did speak? I was singing that song before the lights turned off and before I was rushed to the kitchen. Why would a random cop just happen to know my song? Nothing in that house gave evidence I even liked that song. It was specific and he had to have been one of the killers. Check your goddamn officers. Anyway, that’s all of the story on why I’m mute. End of day one entry.
