Murder at Cedar Park (Big Scary First English Assignment)

Trenton Stevens (he/him)
Ms. Frommlet’s 3rd Period
September 3, 2020

Murder at Cedar Park

It was one of those chilly days in November. When all the sky sends down are torrents large enough to raise the ocean by a meter each, even when it was cold enough to be snowing. I turned on the stove and placed the kettle over the flame. I picked up the book I was reading and pulled out the bookmark before finding the line I had left off on. I resumed reading and waited for the sharp whistle signaling the water was hot. I poured a cup of tea and continued reading, while I waited for the police to come for the body in the master bathroom’s bathtub. It just so happened to be my small community’s part- time billionaire, and full-time whore. Just then, the doorbell rang and I set down the book on the open page, for later reading. I opened the door and put on my warmest face for the police-woman that stood on the front porch. I showed her the bathroom and answered her questions.

“No, I do not know why she is in my house.”

“I found her there when I came home from Fred Meyer’s.”

“The neighbor was cleaning out his pig pen, hasn’t done that for as long as I can remember. He does have a key, so he could have easily gotten in.”

“Her jewelry is missing!?”

“No, I don’t mind if you take a look around. Just mind the full-length mirror, it’s a family heirloom.”

I walked out of the bathroom and back downstairs where I took a sip of tea, realized I forgot to put honey in it and walked around the bar into the kitchen where I did so. I took another sip, which went down easier. I picked up my book and walked over to the couch where I continued reading while the officer poked around upstairs.

Eventually, she came down the stairs. She said she would look around downstairs, but so far no incriminating evidence had been found (at this, she gave me two thumbs up). I put my head back down and focused on the words. Harry just figured out he was a wizard!

The police officer eventually left, saying that someone would be by shortly to clean up the dead body, and some more people would do a thorough investigation. She recommended that I stay at a hotel or a relative’s house just until this whole shebang was over.

“When will I be able to return?”

She said they would contact me. Taking her advice, I went upstairs to pack up. Except for one small detail, I wasn’t coming back. No one in their right mind would want to live in a house where someone was murdered. Earlier this morning, I had posted the house. I loaded all that I could into my sedan and took off down the twisty private road. I drove into the city and booked a room for a few nights so I could figure out where I was going. Obviously away from the murder, who would want to live in a house where a brutal murder took place? But where would I go? I took a globe out of one of the bags of stuff and spun it. I put my finger down and pulled it back to reveal: Europe. I pulled out my laptop and booked the cheapest flight I could find. Then, I went out to buy the largest suitcase I could find. I stuffed the suitcase until the stitched seams seemed to not be able to take any more and got some shut eye before my flight early in the morning.

At three o’clock in the morning, I rolled over and turned off the alarm clock before jumping into my clothes and vacating the room. I sprinted through bag check and TSA, and all that other good stuff. Stopped for some coffee, then sprinted towards my gate. I plopped into my seat in economy and read until we reached Atlanta, then sprinted to my next flight, for France. From there, I rented a car and drove all the way down through Italy and pulled into Vatican City. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Later that day, I got a call from someone. The police said that they found fake jewels in my ex-neighbor’s pig pen. With my DNA on them. I dropped my phone into a fountain, and got to work writing a confession.

You see, I murdered that lady, for she was my real mother and never bothered to share that information with me. I stole her jewels, because she kept all that wealth to herself.

I woke up at two AM to a rapping at the door. I silently slipped out of the sheets and over to the door. Looking through the peephole, I saw a man who didn’t look like a door to door salesman. So, I slinked back into the far-reaches of the room and hoped he would disappear if I was quiet enough.

Big mistake, two seconds later he was breaking down the door and had a gun on the pillows I had stuffed in the bed. I grabbed the most important suitcase and made a break through the busted door. I hoped the man was satisfied by the bottle of ketchup in the pillow, until I heard two gunshots echo down the hallway. I took the next left, hoping to maybe lose him with a few turns, but reached a dead end. Since I was only on the second story, I ran straight out the large window encompassing the wall. I landed in a tree. Or, more accurately put, a few branches loosely connected, which is what it felt like when I fell through the tree. Let me make this clear, jumping out of a window isn’t as fun as they make it sound. It hurts, a lot. You have to persist, lest you get shot, which would probably hurt a lot, too. I rolled into the thick shrubbery some like to call a hedge and screamed in pain, inside my head.

When I heard a car drive away, I rolled out of the bushes, breathing a sigh of relief. This was like the third mistake I made that night. It turns out, the man after me was still in the parking lot unlocking his car. He turned and looked straight at me. I used whatever drive I had left to propel myself away from the situation. I decided to try the method of taking a bunch of random turns again. This wasn’t working as well as I had hoped, so I slunk into an all-night pizzeria and locked myself in the bathroom. The bathroom smelled so bad, it could probably be counted as a mistake I made as well.

The final mistake I made was walking out of the bathroom, where I was shot in the foot. The rest is history, I was hauled away, sentenced to prison. Strangely enough, no one ever found the jewels. I don’t plan on revealing their location, anyways.

Note: I do not plan on murdering people, I just started writing and ended up here. However, I do like reading, tea, and often go to Fred Meyer’s, which I mentioned in the beginning of this story.

Plan for Future Blog Posts

Over the past few months, I have written journal entries every so often. I realize that this can’t be the most interesting thing to read about on the internet. So, I have had to come up with a better idea. Hopefully this new idea will be more interesting and make it so that this website actually has people that look at it.
Now, I realize that I haven’t said what I am going to do yet. So here it goes (please don’t laugh): I have a book of 642 things to write about. Since I haven’t had a chance to use it quite yet, I figured this would be it. Plus, hopefully someone out there finds it interesting as well. I will plan to post weekly, with new posts appearing on Friday, though the starting date is unknown (though I hope that I can start soon). I hope you will enjoy this as much as I think that I will.
With love,
Trenton Stevens

P.S I feel bad about writing posts without a picture. Since I went bike riding today, I figure I’ll put that in here.

Monday, May 18, 2020

I asked a friend to describe me in a few words. The response that I got was “sarcastic, witty, closed off (in a good way)”. The first two are self explanatory if you have ever been treated to a conversation with me. The last one was slightly less obvious. But, yes, it is true. I rarely like to spend a lot of time talking about myself. Even when I do, I tend to go pretty shallow. I also don’t do a lot of talking. I tend to find it a little bit more fun to listen to everyone else and analyze what they are saying for use later. 

I feel like some people are taking the whole coronavirus thing a little lightly. Obviously, it is less deadly than some other diseases. However, it should not be taken lightly because of that. It is like not taking the 500 million dollars because you could’ve gotten a billion. (Terrible analogy, but what the heck). I believe that if we start regarding it as a common cold, then the cases will spike again and more quarantining will be in order. However, if we go on in this panicked sort of hide-in-your-house-with-the-blinds-drawn sort of manner, then there will be a longer period of quarantining, but overall less quarantining.

Thursday, May 14, 2020

This morning, my alarm didn’t go off. I mean, I was going to get up on time. Then, I got up an hour late because my alarm didn’t go off. It really is sad being one of the only two people who participated in Mr. Broeckel’s doc chat. It is sad because a) those who don’t show up clearly don’t care about their education, and b) because what they are doing sounds like way more fun. 

My cats are so fluffy. I mean, not meaning to brag, but they are amazing. 

Disregard the above statement, it came out of nowhere, and really doesn’t have anything to do with anything.

Outside, currently, a storm appears to be brewing. There is a rather dark cloud over us. It doesn’t seem to be raining, but I have no doubt there will come harsh rains. Where I want to be it is 13℃ with a low of 9 and a high of 16. It is currently clear. It should be sunny there tomorrow. But spring weather there is currently happening. So, rain is expected within the week.

 

Photo by Sebastian Huxley on Unsplash

Wednesday, May 13, 2020

I know eavesdropping is bad. But, is it really eavesdropping if the people are yelling? Let’s back this up, because that question seems like it came out of nowhere. My mother and my brother get into some serious arguments. Well, technically my brother gets mad at my mom and then that escalates. It usually centers around things like: when he loses his glorified iPod, homework, or online learning. However, these things can get started anywhere at any moment. I will be peacefully doing something, when it suddenly starts. The tell-tale sign that means an argument is brewing. The annoyed, angry, thunderous, “Mom-uuuuu.” (In case you didn’t know the uuuuu is meant to be interpreted as a groan.) And then the storm breaks. Today, it ended when my mom told him to go outside to cool down. During this whole ordeal, my father is technically supposed to be helping my mom. He does, while they are in the same room as him. Since he is typically in the office, as soon as the arguers leave, he starts snickering. 

Now the real fun (for me) begins. Simple things that wouldn’t annoy a human being can be used against him like arrows. My favorite is if it is before dinner. Then, since he sits across from me, I stare at him. This typically makes him enter psychotic angry monster mode, but it is super fun. Sometimes, I tell him I love him. Everytime I pass him. He usually responds with, “I hate you too.” Yes, I know that annoying someone isn’t the best thing a human being can do to another. However, it makes up for everything he does to me.