Young Writers Society

April 06, 2014

“Tuesday Winslow: Calendar killer caught.”

“Tuesday Winslow’s victims: The stories and the fight for justice.”

“10 murders and 3 months later: The Calendar killer has been apprehended.”

“Tuesday Winslow has been caught: A dark look into humanity and society. How do you raise a killer?”

My name is Tuesday Winslow, and today was a field day for reporters. The bright lights and sirens are all I can think of as I sit in the cold cell. It’s cramped, a little dark, and I’m alone. Everyone thinks I deserve this. If I had killed 10 people then I would understand why I’m here, but I didn’t. It’s frustrating when you scream “I DIDN’T DO IT” but the evidence is louder than your words will ever be.

I hear murmuring outside the cell. I hear my name. They’re talking about me.

I sigh, fighting back tears. I’ve cried enough these past 3 months and I know I need to find the courage to prove my innocence but it feels like I’ve already lost. Why fight in a war when you know no matter what you do you’ll bleed?

I rest my head against the wall, counting the skips of my heart as I try not to think.

January 07, 2014

It was a Tuesday. Snowflakes fluttered softly from the clouds and a bleak white snow covered the landscape like a blanket. I smiled, I loved the snow. It pleased the inner child in me greatly, and it reminded me of all the days where I didn’t care what anyone thought of me. Those days seemed like such a long time ago now.

I walked atop the snow, leaving deep footprints with my black snow boots. I was walking home from school. I always liked to walk slowly on my way home, as to absorb every last moment of this carefree atmosphere.

I spin around with my mouth open, catching droplets of snow on my tongue. A sharp cold ran through me, and I knew my nose had to have been red. Even with a snow coat and long pants on, it was still freezing out here. It was moments like these where I forgot what homework I had to do or what those bullies said to me during lecture hall. It was moments like these where I forgot danger existed. It was moments like these where I lost myself in a fog and didn’t pay attention to anything around me.

Darkness. A black void ruptures my vision. I don’t know where I am, who I am, what I was doing. I feel like I’m moving, like I’m speaking, but I can’t hear or see what’s happening. I can only assume I fainted, or I’m in some sort of nightmare.

Wake up.

My eyes flake open to a dark sky. The moon hangs over me and I can feel the snowflakes falling on top of my face. I’m numb and I’m laying in snow.

I sit up, shivering, trying to catch my breath. What in the world? The last thing I remember is walking home, and now I’m sitting in the snow below the dark sky. It doesn’t make sense. Did I faint? I thought I had felt fine. No, no, I had felt fine. But being fine isn’t waking up in the middle of the night, unknowing to where you’ve been.

I slowly will myself to stand as my legs shake like maracas, except instead of colorful music all I can hear is the shakiness of my breath. Oh my god, oh my god. I need to get home.

I look towards the forest and I know my home is near. I can’t see much, except the lights of the moon and the stars, and I hope that’s enough for tonight.

I start the walk. I try not to think or I know I won’t make it home. I’ll freak myself out and lie back in the snow and freeze to death. I can barely breathe. I'm shivering so much, gasps escape me every few seconds as I try to walk faster. My legs feel like unsturdy towers, ready to crumble into ashes any minute and fall victim to a natural disaster.

I see light coming from a house. My house. Uneven tears blot down my face as I rush as fast as my legs can go towards the building.

I reach the house and stumble over my feet as I make it to the front door. I knock.

The neighborhood is quiet, eerily quiet. There are no lights on except for mine but again, I try not to think of this. Fear is not what I need right now, what I need is safety. My mother swings the door open and wraps me in a tight hug.

“Oh my god I was so worried… I thought… I thought…” She shakes her head as if her next words are too terrible to even say.

“Mom.” I let out a cry. “I think I passed out in the snow.”

“Let's get you inside and warm you up.”

I walk inside and collapse into a black chair as I try to re-orientate myself. I’m safe. I’m okay. It’s okay.

My mom sets down hot chocolate on the table in front of me and drapes a soft blue blanket over me, like putting a star on top of a christmas tree. She sits next to me and I see how stressed out she looks. Her brown hair is in a messy bun, strands of hair hanging out and her eyes are wide with disbelief.

My father comes out of his room, a look of relief burning across his face, like finding out school is closed on a monday morning. “Tuesday. You’re home.” He sits on the other side of me.

I stare down at the mug. I’m in such a daze of confusion, what happened? Why did I black out? I take a sip of the hot chocolate, warmth fills my throat and body, and I feel like my limbs are steadily piping back to life.

“You know, we called the police. We were so worried. They said to wait a few hours… But I just didn’t know what to do.” My mom says.

I slightly smile. “Sorry mom, I’m glad I’m okay.”

“We are to.” Dad remarks.

My family decides it’s best for me to sleep and I agree. I stride over to my maroon bed, never so happy to be sleeping in my own bed at my own house. As soon as my head hits the pillow I fall asleep to the sound of the snow falling to the ground, and for this moment, I forget of any dangers. For this moment, I lose myself in a fog and don’t pay attention to anything around me…

My alarm blasts in my eardrums as I hide my head under my pillow, wishing I didn’t have to deal with the day. I slam my hand down on my alarm and stay in my bed for a second longer, keeping the feeling of lying here in my heart. It wasn’t until yesterday that I had thought about how lucky I was to have a bed because when you’re in the cold night, desperate, all you think about is finding a bed to sleep in. Well, I found mine.

I get up, stretch, and throw on a jacket and jeans, preparing myself for the school day. I waltz into the living room to see my parents on the busted green couch, their eyes fixed on the TV screen. I sit next to them, curiously, and see they’re watching the news.

“Yesterday a body was spotted in a gas station. It appeared the body had been dumped there, and had been killed elsewhere.” The newsman speaks. “I can’t give you much information, and the victims name has been disincluded in respect of their family. Police and detectives are on the scene.”

My mom suddenly talks, frantic. “Oh my god this happened yesterday around the time you blacked out.” She pauses. “Around our neighborhood, too.”

“I… I got lucky.” I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I could’ve died yesterday, that there was some lunatic out there. Who knows what could’ve happened?

I don’t think about what could’ve happened.