The Murder of the Maid

At dawn I got a call from my mother telling me that our maid had died in her bedroom. I hurry into the room, and see her face of horror. The blanket was bloodstained and was covered in a white liquid that seemed to be milk. A bottle of skim milk lay in one corner of the bedroom. Maybe the killer was a milk man? The victims suitcase was on her bed open and the clothes looked misplaced. Was our maid going on vacation? It was still May. Her elbow was caked in blood. Her eyeball had a look of excitement where her face was a gloomy green-eyed mess. The countless number of times I have solved murders, I had never had the victims related to me. This seemed so unreal. Maybe the murderer targeted this one at me, so I would solve it. I lowered my head while writing some notes in my journal. There was a bump under the blankets that I just had noticed. I lifted the blanket and saw a knife stabbed into the mattress. Why would the knife be stabbed into the matress but not the victim? The knife didn't have any blood on it either so what killed the maid? I was backing away from the bed when my mother entered the room. 

“Rye, have you figured it out yet?” My mother asked me. For a second the room was noiseless but I broke that silence. 

“I think it might be a suicide,” I said, dishearten. My mother gasped and for some strange reason turned away. The back of my mothers sleeve had splotches of red even though the jacket was supposed to be a solid shade of pink. I looked at my mom’s nervous face and saw that she had an outbreak of acne. Could my mom have killed the vulnerable maid? If she did I don't know why, it was worthless. All my mom would get would be a cell in jail and our household would be maidless. Why would she kill someone when her own son was a detective? 

“I change my mind, I think it is a homicide, isn’t that right mother?”
“Why do you say that Rye?" My mother asked questionably. Maybe it wasn't her. I gave her a stare like I knew all her secrets even though that wasn't even a half truth. "It was an assassination! Someone hired me to kill her! She was a great maid.” I gasped. I was right after all. 

“Mom, you'll go to jail,” I responded seriously, because this was not childs play.  

“Please believe me Rye! Please don’t bring me in! They’ll torture me,” My mom begged. I had to make a critical decision. To be honest, I didn’t know what to do. But I left that house, with my answer and maybe, just maybe, I had made the wrong choice.

 

izz_midnight

NH

14 years old

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