The high pitched scream made me stop in my tracks. Thoughts were racing through my head: Who is screaming? Why were they screaming? Why did the scream come from the Smith’s house? I slowly walked up the steep driveway heading to the colonial style house. I picked up my cell phone, about to call 911 when a man rushed out of the front door. Petrified, I stood still like a deer in headlights. When he looked up, he saw me. He was tall, muscular and had bright red hair. His blue eyes widened as he saw me and then he ran to the street and rushed  in a car. My heart was racing. My hands were shaking as I finished dialing 911.
“911 what’s your emergency?” the lady said.
My mouth moved but no words came out.
“Hello?” she said.
My voice was shaky, “There was a loud scream coming from my neighbor’s and a man I don’t know just came out of it.”
“And what’s your name and address and we will sent help immediately.”
“Stephanie Blunt and 5691 SW Creek,” I replied.
The lady was instructing me to stay still. Her voice sounded like it was from Charlie Brown and he was talking on the phone. Without listening, I made my way to the door. I placed my hand on the cool doorknob and turned it. The Smith’s dog, Sam, rushed to me whimpering with his tail between his legs. I scooped him up and hushed him like a baby. The hardwood floor squeaked and creaked beneath my feet. The home I used to feel so safe in now made me scared. I turned to go to the kitchen. I don’t know what made me go farther. Courage maybe? But I kept moving. Then I saw her.
“ Mrs. Smith?” I asked. Tears started to build in my eyes. My neighbor, Mrs. Smith, was lying on the floor unconscious. There were glass pieces around her and she had a cut on her forehead. Mrs. Smith was the sweetest old lady on the world. She used to babysit me in the summer when my mom had to work long hours. I remember going to the park with her and if I scraped my knee and cried, she would be the first to come to me and ask if I was okay. She was like the grandma I never had. By this time I was crying thick wet tears. I bent down to check her pulse when the police showed up and knocked down the wood door.
“Freeze!” They ordered me. I stood up and put my hands up. “Did you make the 911 call?” A police officer with black hair and dark eyes said.
“Yes” I said.
He bent down to check her pulse. “Call the ambulance.”
In the hospital, Mr. Smith and I watched Mrs. Smith sleep with dozens of tubes coming out of her. Mr. Smith had many wrinkles and hair as white a snow. His face showed calmness, but I know inside he was worrying. Unlike me, I was a nervous wreck. My mascara was all over my face and I kept shaking my leg up and down. I didn’t know what to do with myself. For some reason I felt like this was all my fault, even though I knew it wasn’t. The only person who would be more of a wreck than I was would be my mom. She gets all tense because of my dad. He died of lung cancer when I was 2 and since then she can’t stand hospitals.  My mom was supposed to be there in 20 minutes. This worried me because she always thinks of the worst thing that could happen. I couldn’t stand to think of this any longer so I got up. “Mr. Smith, do you want any coffee?” I asked.
“That would be great, Stephanie,” he replied.
I exited the room and walked through the long bland hallways until I arrived at the cafeteria. There was a line for coffee, so I stood and waited. Once it was my turn, I got two cups of coffee and added some milk. When I walked back into the small room my mom was sitting in a chair with a worried face. “Hi, mom,” I said.
She jumped up and hugged me while I was still holding to coffee. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I replied. My mom had brown hair and green eyes, similar to mine. I could tell she was relieved to see me. While we were still hugging, a nurse walked in making us stop hugging.
“Mrs. Smith will be okay, she just has a minor concussion.”
My mom’s eyes filled up with tears. “Don’t cry mom! I’m okay and Mrs.Smith is mostly okay,” I said.
We went back to hugging and my mom whispered, “I already lost your dad, I don’t want to lose you too.”
At the police station, I shook a tall and skinny man’s hand. “I will be your detective, Matt Winters. I am here to ask you questions about what happened to Annalise Smith and why,” he said in a matter-of-fact kind of way.
“I’m Stephanie Blunt and I guess I’m your witness,” I said.
  “Let’s get started.” He lead me to a room with video cameras and a mirror that lets people see in, but I couldn’t see out. He asked me many questions that I didn’t know the answers to. It was a annoying because I told him all that I know and he kept asking me stuff I couldn’t tell him.  A man whose name I didn’t know drew the man I described. I told him what kind of car he had; a black Chevy Cruze. Once it was finally over he let me go. I found my mom waiting to outside the room talking with the Detective Winters. I walked to the window-mirror so I could watch my mom talk to Detective Winters. I tapped the mirror-window wondering if they could hear me. Then the questioning started. They were talking because I saw their mouths move, but I couldn’t hear anything. About two minutes into the interrogation, they showed my mom the picture of the suspect. She put her hand over her mouth. She grabbed the picture and stared at it for a good 30 seconds. All of a sudden, her face got really pale and she ran out of the dim room.
“Mom!” I hollered and chased after her. She ran straight to the bathroom and rushed in to a stall. I knocked on the door and slowly  walked in. She was sitting with her back resting against the light pink stall wall. She put her hands on her forehead like she had a headache. I sat next to her and grabbed her hand. “What is it?” I asked in a soft whisper.
“The m-man; I know him.” Her lip quivered when she talked.
“Who is he?” I said.
“He’s your uncle.” I sat there, not knowing what to say. She looked me in the eyes. “He’s your dad’s brother, Jonathan Blunt.” All of the emotions hit me at once. I was angry, sad, confused, happy and so many other emotions I couldn’t describe. It was like my lips were sewn together and I couldn’t break the thread. Without speaking, I got up and pulled my mom with me. We walked back into the room to find Detective Winters waiting for us.
“Mrs. Blunt, do you know the suspect?” he asked with a serious expression.
“Yes,” she answered more confidently than I thought she would.
At home, my mom and I were sitting next to each other on the leather couch eating chinese food. We were watching T.V. to try to get our minds off of things, but I couldn’t. I thought about my uncle hitting Mrs. Smith in the head. Not a good first impression. I also would like to meet him. If I did, he would probably be in jail and we would be talking through one of those telephone things they have in prisons. But the thing I thought about the most is why he went to the Smith’s house. I wasn’t paying attention to the television. Around 10 my mom turned off the T.V and suggested that we go to sleep because it has been a long day. I removed myself from the couch and walked up the steep staircase. I went into the bathroom and did my nightly routine.
I was about to enter my room when I stopped. “Mom, can I sleep with you tonight?” I asked.
“Sure sweetie,” she replied.
I jumped on the king sized tempurpedic bed and rested my head on the pillow. “Why do you think he did it?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“I don’t know. I still can’t believe it was him. I have no idea why he would do such a terrible thing to such a nice person,” she replied.
“Were you close to him when Dad was alive?” I asked quietly. I was nervous to bring up my dad because whenever I did she got emotional.
“No I didn’t. I only saw him on holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving. He always came alone and was as quiet as a mouse.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Well, I’m wiped out. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said.
In the morning, I woke up to the mouth watering smell of pancakes and bacon. I made my way downstairs and saw my mom flipping a pancake.
“Yum! It smells delicious!” I state.
“Good. Now eat up, we have a busy day today.” she said handing me a plate with a stack of pancakes and some bacon.
Once I was finished eating, we made our way to the car.  I was listening to music the whole ride to the police station. When we finally arrived, I hopped out of the car and we walked to the entrance. I opened the glass doors and we found our way to the interrogation room. To my surprise, Jonathan Blunt was sitting on the metal chair wearing and a bright orange jumpsuit looking at Detective Winters. His red hair and blue eyes were just like the ones I had seen when he came out of the house.
All of a sudden, Detective Winters bursted through the doors and he came up two us. “Jonathan Blunt would like to speak to Stephanie. Are you opposed to that?”
I looked in the room where he was sitting and then back at my mom. “It’s your decision, Stephanie,” My mom said.
“I will,” I said.
He led me to the door and opened it for me. I tensely walked into the room and sat across from my uncle. It was strange being so nervous to speak to a family member.
“Hi, I’m Jonathan Blunt.” He said.
I couldn’t look him in the eye but he was trying to find mine.
“Hello.” I said.
There was a long pause before he started speaking.
“I made a terrible decision. When I saw the terrified look on your face when I had ran out of the Smith’s house I knew I had made a horrible decision that I would regret for the rest of my life. I felt so terrible, I turned myself in. This morning I came to the police station where they arrested me.”
I looked at him blankly.
“Will you and your mother ever forgive me?” He asked.
“Why did you do it?” I asked so quietly I could barely hear myself.
“Sorry I didn’t understand you” He said
“Why did you do it?” I asked loudly. He didn’t respond.
“So are you just going to sit there and ask for forgiveness when I don’t know why you did what you did? It was terrible! If you don’t have a good reason you are just pathetic!” I yelled slightly losing my temper. Now, I looked him dead in the eye.
“Listen, I know what I did was wrong. So please hear me out. Right now my bank account doesn’t look to good. I lost my job about two months ago. Since then, I have been unemployed and trying to get a job. It never happened. I was thinking, where could I get the money? And then it hit me. Your dad used to have a safe at my parents house. When he died he gave the key to Mrs. Smith to give it to you when you turned 16. So I thought I would look in the safe to see what was in there. That’s why I went to the Smith’s house.”
“So why did you hit her?” I asked.
“I got in the house through the back door. It was unlocked and at the time I didn’t know why. But, now I do. She was taking her dog on a short walk. Then, I walked upstairs into her bedroom. I checked her dresser and desk. The last thing I checked was her bedside table. I found the key in the drawer. With the key in my possession, I ran down the stairs to find Mrs. Smith standing in the kitchen. She saw me and screamed, I panicked. Without thinking, I hit her in the head with a glass bowl. I sprinted out the front door and saw you. I kept moving and jumped into my car.”
Again, I had that feeling where I didn’t know what to say. I just stared at him.
“I am so sorry.” he muttered. Then slowly put his hand into his bright orange pocket. He pulled out a key and held it in front of me. I took it.