This summer unfortunately I have to go to my aunt’s house. I think this will be the worst summer of my life. It’s all thanks to my selfish parents; they went off traveling in Europe and left me here, behind in Winsted, Connecticut with my weird aunt.

“Nice to see you Jessy, your room’s upstairs, two doors down on the end.” I started walking up the stairs in front of me that were parallel to the door.
“Oh, and make sure you stay out of the other room…uh it’s just a bunch of junk.” She said like she was in a rush or nervous.
“Okay” I said slightly confused as I trudged up the rest of the stairs with my suitcases to my room for the summer while I was staying here and unpacked everything for my two months stay.

Dinner that night was quiet so I had some time to think; why would she tell me not to check this specific room out; her excuse seemed like it was fake. Why would it be the first thing she tells me; especially if it’s just a bunch of meaningless junk like she claimed. Maybe she’s hiding something. I think I’m going to check it out tonight and get to the bottom of this.

The clock said “11:36” which meant she was asleep. I tiptoed to the door, trying not to wake her through the squeaking of the floorboards echoing through the house. I reached for the knob and…it’s locked. Of course I thought to myself. “Hey what are you doing up so late?” “Oh!” I said caught by surprise, “ Um I was just on my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth, so what are you doing up here. I thought you slept downstairs?” I said suspiciously.
“I do, I just needed to get something out of the closet but, I think I’ll just get it tomorrow; I guess. Goodnight.”
“Night.” I said back as she walked back down the stairs
About a month and a half had passed since that night; I hadn’t been to the room since the incident and I thought that I was just being paranoid but, something re-opened my interest. That morning I went down to get some breakfast and I decided to grab the newspaper. As I ate my bowl of cereal I read over the town’s paper. I came across an article titled “Man Found Dead- No Evidence Found” it also just happened to be reported in this area too. That’s when my interest sparked again.
That night I went back to the room and since I had no clue as to where the key was; so I just went to my room slightly disappointed and dozed off to sleep. The next morning I checked my count down calendar to see how many days were left until I got to leave. There was only about another a week left. As I walked out of my room I had this sudden urge to go and try the doorknob again and since I thought she was gone because I hadn’t heard from her all day; I thought what could happen. So I rushed over to the door and reached for the knob, very slowly I noticed that it had gone further than before. As I continued turning one degree at a time…*click* it opened.
I looked inside and I realized it was what looked inside and realized it was what looked to be a bunch of old scrapbooks labeled with names I’ve never even heard of. When I looked closer I looked a little bit closer I realized that they had to dates on them. They looked like birth and death dates. Next, I pulled one out labeled Christopher Lately 1962- 1988. There were photos of a man I’d never seen before. As I flipped further into the book I found newspaper articles from 1988 of mysterious murder investigations. I closed the book and put everything away, being careful not to leave anything different than what it was before. Afterwards I quickly crept out, feeling like I’d be caught at any moment even though she was out; lastly I closed the door and walked out.
The next day I went down to get the paper and breakfast. Today I decided to have waffles. As I drizzled some syrup over them I noticed that there had been a continuation of the article. The body had been identified as Daniel Screet. They also hadn’t found any evidence that would lead them to the murderer. Then there was all the “if you have any information that could help them figure out the crime investigation” to report it.
The day after that I went to get the paper from yesterday because I wanted to look at the comics and I realized the article from yesterday was cut out. I ran back inside and flew up the stairs to check the room and I realized there was a new scrapbook with a new name “Daniel Screet 1977-2003.” Then it clicked. What did all these people have in common? They all died early in their lives without a trace of evidence as to how it happened. “My Aunt Jenny is the cause.”
“So you figured it out.” She said in an uninviting tone.
“You know I’ll never let you get away with this.” I staggered.
“That’s why it and you will never leave this room!” She said like she was insane. That’s when I ran out the door with the book in hand and put a chair against it to keep here from getting to me. I ran down the stairs, scared for my life. As I grabbed the car keys and I heard pounding at the door upstairs. The second I stepped outside I heard a bang against the hard wood floor and at that second I knew she was coming. So I dashed outside, across the driveway, got in the car and, put it in ignition. Then I quickly pulled out and was heading towards the police station. I had never had to fear for my life more then right then.
I spotted out of the rear-view mirror Aunt Jenny’s truck gaining in on me. So I started speeding more than I already was and drifted into the parking lot. I ran inside breathlessly I managed to get out what I desperately needed to say including my aunt’s license plate number. I also showed the murder scrapbook as proof. Then one of the policemen went after my aunt and the other stayed with me for protection. Within a matter of hours the cops had her in custody and I was safe once again. For all the murders she committed she had a life-sentence to prison. As for me I haven’t been to Winsted since.