As the car sped away, I watched my wife’s lifeless eyes stare past me. She had a large dent in the middle of her forehead from slamming it into the steering wheel from the impact of the crash. This had caused my right arm to break away from my body, or it had felt like it. I had been resting my arm outside of my opened window, feeling the breeze as we drove past the scenery.

  They had crippled my arm. They had stolen from me the ability to be normal. They had killed my wife. In those last moments I had thought I was dying. I knew my wife was dead. I just knew. Her dead, normally glimmering blue eyes had turned dull and faded into something I thought would be the last thing I would see.

  Fate had a different path for me, as I had stayed conscious for what seemed like hours in pain, trying to get my wife’s lifeless eyes out of my head. That’s when I heard it; my savior and tormentor, come to rescue us. However, I remembered, it was just me alone.

  A sudden thought had entered my head. Lila Rose, our beautiful twelve-year-old daughter, would be an orphan if I did not make it. So, I pushed for survival. Although I desperately wanted to join my wife to the place above, I knew I needed to stay. For my daughter. For my wife. And for justice, for her and me.

  Justice. What a vague word. At the time it was all I could think about. It clouded my head and judgement, and all I ever wanted to do was bring justice for me and my family. It became so intense I was unable to hold a steady job and had to take frequent walks to erase the thoughts.

  It was on one of these rare prosaic nights that I had decided I needed to take a walk to clear my head. I had exited the guest bedroom, where I had been sleeping since the accident. I made my way down the hallway, staring straight ahead, not daring to look at the love-filled pictures on the tan walls.

  I entered the living room; the air was frigid, the only light coming from my daughter’s phone lighting up her face. Her blonde hair was neatly curled, and it seemed as if she had makeup on. I didn’t care about her appearance, she was now sixteen, but her hair reminded me of my wife’s own shiny blonde hair.

  As I walked up to her my steps were quiet and cautious, my crippled arm hanging by my side. Lila let out a soft laugh and typed something, the sound of the message being sent ringing out in the room.

  “Lila,” I said, touching her shoulder softly. A shriek came out of her mouth as she wildly looked at me, her frantic blue eyes staring straight into mine. I quickly looked away, trying not to pity myself for not being able to look into my daughter’s eyes. They were the same color as my wife’s.

  “Lila, I’m going out. I’ll be gone for an hour or so, okay?” I said, glancing at her. Sadness swirled in her ocean colored eyes, making a frown form on my face. However, I didn’t tell her my thoughts, I didn’t want her to think of me as a sensitive person.

  “Sure, whatever,” Lila said, rolling her eyes. “Just be careful not to get yourself killed. You know, the murderer attacked not too far from here.”

  Lila had a small smile on her face, her voice filled with amusement. It made a disgusting feeling form in my chest. My daughter was joking about a murderer when her own mother had been killed.

  I quickly took a deep breath and nodded my head, looking over to the door that was my exit from this conversation.

  “If you need me call me, I’ll be back soon,” I said and hurriedly walked away toward the front door. Lila’s laughter filled the room that I had quickly left, making the feeling intensify.

  I opened the door and walked out into the chilly air, the fall leaves already browning and falling. I locked the door and put the key into my pocket, where my phone was. I had a few contacts on it, as I wasn’t much of an extrovert after my wife died. I knew if Lila really needed to she would call me.

  I looked across to the other similar houses that were connected to mine. I had wondered what was going on inside them, then promptly turned around, scolding myself to mind my own business.

  I shook my head and strolled down the sidewalk, crossing the street at the end. There weren’t many cars at this time of night, which I appreciated greatly. This gave me time to think and not be distracted by the loud noises and lights.

  As I passed by the local shops a shadowy figure caught my attention. They disappeared into an alley by Koji’s Sushi Shop and Alejandro’s Music Store.

  My heart thumped against my chest and I took in a shaky breath. I stopped in place and my mind immediately went to the murderer. If I turned back now I wouldn’t be beheaded like the other victims. A sense of dread filled me as I thought about the pain in my crippled arm being quadrupled to form the sensation of having your head cut clean off.

  Unconsciously I had clenched my fists and a spark of pain flared up my right arm. I stifled my groan of pain and relaxed my hand, rubbing my arm up and down.

  I was terrified of dying, but also in a strange way I was ready to die. I wanted to join my wife, and instead of seeing her dead eyes, see their usual glimmering ocean blue. As soon as her eyes flashed in my mind I shook my head quickly, trying to erase them from my memory. Taking in another shaky breath I started to head toward the alley.

  As I walked between the two buildings I noticed the garbage cans that were overflowing with trash. The smell was horrendous, as if a dead cat had been rotting for weeks in it. I grimaced and quickly walked further down into the dark alley.

  As usual my steps were quiet, seemingly silent as I strained my eyes to see what was in front of me. A sudden flicker of light had my heart pounding and I looked around, seeing if anyone noticed me. It was dead silent in the night, and I took that as a sign that I wasn’t noticed creeping around.

  I continued forward, however my movements were quicker, trying to hide in the shadows of the buildings. The end of the alley opened into a street that had houses lined across the other side. There were few lights, so I hadn’t realized the figure that was pressed against the wall until I was merely a few feet away.

  I froze, holding my breath. As the figure turned their head I could make out that they were a man, possibly in his forties, with a trimmed beard, large nose, and a scowl. He looked extremely dangerous, and I slowly backed away so that I was hidden behind a large garbage bin.

  I scrunched my nose up; the smell was extremely unpleasant. However, I would much rather be hidden behind the nauseating trash than be caught following the hidden figure.

  A few minutes passed by, my heart was beating so hard against my chest I was afraid the man might have heard it. But it seemed like he was preoccupied with something else. He kept glancing at his phone in his hand every few seconds, then looking around the neighborhood, almost like he was watching for something.

  In the chilly November air, a strong gust of wind flew by, carrying with it the smell of gasoline and the city. However, in those few seconds as I was watching the man the sides of his coat flew up, and an object that was silver and shiny made me suck in a breath of air. It was displayed clearly in the waistband of his black pants, and I stumbled back, trying to calm my already racing heart.

  The gust of wind had died down almost immediately, and with it the coat hung around the man, concealing the weapon he brandished. How could one willingly carry with them a death-bringing object, that with one shot could fatally wound someone.

  Before the idea spread further the man suddenly made his move and disappeared around the corner. I immediately stood from behind the repulsive trash bin and followed him, staying close to the wall so I could be hidden by the shadows.

  As I rounded the corner, I saw the man hurriedly walking down the sidewalk, scanning around him every few seconds. He must be either paranoid or he knew I was following him. I gritted my teeth in frustration. I couldn’t let him harm anyone. There, I justified why I was following a strange man and why I involved myself in this situation.

  I would hide behind buildings whenever I got the chance and made sure to keep my footsteps silent. The man wasn’t too concerned with who was behind him, as he had only checked twice in the span of twenty minutes. He was leading me outside of the main city, into the surrounding area that was more suburban and spread out.

  There were more trees, and the night sky could clearly be seen. I glanced up, wondering if that was where people went. Maybe my wife could see me from where she was up above.

  Suddenly my phone started ringing. I jumped and my heart slammed against my chest. The noise was like a bomb, the silence I had grown accustomed to immediately shattering. I threw myself into the nearest alley, and dug for my phone, my mind frantic as I realized my cover had been blown.

  I gripped the electronic and quickly pulled it out, slamming my finger against the decline button. As the screen faded to black I shivered, the air suddenly seemed colder. Looking around I dove behind a car that was parked near the wall.

  I muttered silent curses as the sound of footsteps approaching echoed against the walls. They seemed to be pounding against my eardrums...or was that my heart. The sound completely took over my head and I became frozen in place. My hands seemingly moved on their own, turning my phone off and slipping it into my pocket.

  I crouched down and waited for my impending doom where the mysterious man would take his weapon from the waistband of his pants and aim it directly at me. Without hesitating he would take my life, and I would lay dead, staring up at the sky with the terror remaining in my mind.

  As I waited my arm started to ache. I looked down at it and suddenly covered my mouth, biting down hard into my finger. The extreme movements had irritated my crippled arm, and now shocks of pain flowed up and down.

  I didn’t think about my impending doom or the footsteps that had stopped at the entrance of the alley. The pain was almost as unbearable as it was when the accident happened. Suddenly, flashes of her blue eyes came into my mind and I opened my mouth in a silent scream, screwing my eyes shut and shaking my head.

  It might have been a few minutes, I wouldn’t know. The pain subsided and I was able to blink open my eyes and calm myself down enough to carefully survey my surroundings. My heart was still pounding, but I knew it was my heart and not footsteps. I took in a deep breath and peeked over the side of the car. What surprised me was that the man wasn’t there. Surely he had known there was someone behind him.

  I quietly stood up and walked toward the corner, looking over the wall into the direction the man was going before the call had happened. To my surprise the man was walking in the distance, his back to me as he continued down the path he was originally on.

  I looked behind me and hurriedly followed him. My mind was completely blank, except for the idea of gaining justice for whoever the man was going to kill. The only evidence of him being a murderer was his silver death trap tucked into his waistband, which I could only assume, paired with his dangerous looks, made him a dangerous man.

  This time I stayed farther away, running from house to house in case I needed to hide or make a quick escape. The buildings were becoming farther and farther apart and soon I couldn’t see the man at all.

  Abandoning the plan I had conceived, I chased after him, my soft footsteps the only noise in the silent night. Every step I made would send a shock of discomfort up my arm, but I had to endure it until I caught up.

  I saw his dark coat and slowed down so I was a few feet behind the man. He was holding his phone and looking from side to side, scanning his eyes for something. The only thing now that was around was trees, dirt, and plants, with the occasional house every once in a while.

  My mind was blank with what was happening, but the one thought I recognized was to continue following the man. Even though I was probably a couple miles from home I didn’t care as long as justice was served.

  The man suddenly stopped, his face pointed to the left as he intently stared at something. I looked to where he was looking and could see a seemingly rundown shack that was breaking apart in the middle of a field. Confusion filled me before it was replaced by panic as the man sprinted toward the small building.

  His feet pounded against the ground and I gritted my teeth, chasing him holding my arm so it wouldn’t cause as much discomfort. There was a trail in the grass a few feet away from me that led from the sidewalk straight to the shed. I thought nothing of it and continued to follow the man until he reached the shed.

  He paused and reached for the weapon at his waist. Taking it out he pointed it in front of him as he slowly opened the wooden door. I followed closely behind and noticed there was a wooden wall covering half of the room. This was opened on one side, where the man was. He turned to face the inside of the room, and as he did so his eyes widened and his fingers clenched the gun tightly. I knew he was going to shoot.

  I sprinted toward him and using all my body strength plowed straight into him. A shot rang out around the room, my ears ringing with the loud sound. I shook my head quickly and looked for the gun only to see it inside the room. As I started to go toward it, I was frozen in my tracks at the sound of a bloodcurdling scream. The scream made my heart slam against my chest, as it wasn’t from the man nor was it from me.

  A loud thud against the ground and the sound of bone crunching made me look toward what lay in the middle. As I did, my knees gave out and I felt bile start to creep up my throat.

  What was going on? Who? No. The man behind me immediately stood up and ran straight for his gun. I didn’t have any strength in me to do anything, so I merely stared wide eyed as he ran straight for the fleeing masked man that had run out the back door.

  I...I didn’t mean to. I shook my head wildly. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t mean to do that.

  I slowly crept toward the middle of the room and sat in silence, before reality came crashing down on me.

  The body in the middle of the room had blood spilling from the neck, blonde hair was splayed across the wooden floor, the skin had bruises and cuts.

  As I looked toward their face, I was completely horrified. It was...it was Lila. Lila Rose. My daughter. Her mouth was open as if it was screaming for help, her eyes wide and terrified.

  I quickly, shakily took my phone out of my pocket, intent on calling the police for help. But what shook me to my core was seeing a notification for a missed call and voicemail from Lila Rose.

  I looked back down at her body then at my phone. Trembling I touched the notification and jumped when it opened a voicemail. The phone beeped once before Lila’s terror-stricken voice came on, and I knew I wasn’t going to see my wife anytime soon.

  “Dad?! Dad! Please pick up,” Lila’s hushed voice said terrified. “Help me please! Dad!” Lila let out a sob. “Someone’s following me, I think. Dad, I’m sorry. Help me please!” Silence rang out and I stared at the screen before letting it drop to the ground. The phone landed in a pool of blood, but I couldn’t care. Not when her eyes stared up at the ceiling of the shed.

  I looked closely at them and saw what I always imagined from my memory. Her eyes, her once beautiful blue eyes, were now dull and cold.

  Her eyes were dead.