LIAR

Just weeks ago my brother and his family were brutally murdered by god knows who, and the murderer was still at large. I never should have left my wife and kids. If I had just stayed I could have protected them. But no, I had to go and leave my family in the hands of the man that has betrayed my time and time again. The man I called my friend.

•~•

I agreed with him, saying I did need a little vacation from all the stress of life. With that I left him my house key, kissed my wife goodbye, and drove a state away. After a relaxing night I drove home, happy to see my family again, knowing my friend had kept them alive.

"I'm home!" I yelled, sliding the golden key into the keyhole and stepping into the house. That's odd, I thought after a moment, noticing no one had replied. Julie must have put the kids to bed early and didn't want to yell for fear of waking them up, I tried to reassure myself.

Uneasily, I walked upstairs to the kids room. The door creaked open as I turned the knob and peered into the room. How strange, I thought, my unease growing as I took notice of the empty room. Thinking they were watching television before bed, I walked down the hall to the room I shared with my wife and pushed the door open. No one was there. 

I sat down and felt around for the remote. Suddenly, my hand touch a sticky substance. I gasped, but brushed it off as spilled soda, continuing to look for the remote. At last I grabbed it. Sitting back, I clicked on the television.

"Julie!!!" I screamed, staring at the figure in front of me. No, not in front of me. If she was in front of me she would be standing in front of the coffee table telling me to quiet down before I wake the kids. If she was in front of me everything would be okay. No, she was not in front of me. My beautiful wife was hanging from the ceiling by her neck, blood spattered all over her face and clothes, her arms and legs bent at unnatural angles, illuminated by the eery blue light coming from the television.

Slowly I began to back away from her misshapen figure, wondering what the murderer had done with my kids. I continued backing away until I hit something. Quickly I whipped around, shining the light from my phone on the object I had hit. Gasping, I lept away, hitting yet another object I knew wasn't supposed to be there.

In front of me was my only son, just six years old. He was slumped in a chair, his neck twisted at an odd angle, a knife going straight through his stomach and many tiny needles stuck through his body.

Behind me was my 15 year old daughter. She hadn't even had a boyfriend yet, I thought sadly as I turned to look at her. What I saw brought me to tears. Her naked body had been laid over the top of a chair, broken and bruised. Her thigh had been slit and it was clear the murderer had raped her before killing her. But that wasn't what killed my the most about her death. Lying on the seat of the chair was my daughter's head, her eyes gouged out and tangled into her dark brown hair.

I stumbled out of the room, shocked. Who would do such a thing?

"A mighty fine question," a familiar voice said from behind me. "And one I believe you know the answer to."

He stepped out from the shadows of the room, into the glowing light caused by the television.

"But why?" I cried. "How could you do this to me? To Julie?" 

"You know why!" he roared, throwing something sharp in my direction. I was too shocked to move. Moments later I was crumpled on the ground, writhing in pain. "You stole her from me! We were getting married! She couldn't say I do because she claimed to be in love with somebody else! Then not even a year later you run off and married the love of my life! My ex-fiancé! My almost wife! The woman who broke my heart! My best friend went off and married her!" His voice went eerily calm. "Now you get to feel what it's like to be betrayed by someone you thought cared about you. Now you know what it's like to have the love of your life snatched away from you. The difference between you and me, friend," he spat out, "is the you will know what death feels like."

A fox-like grin spread across his face as him came over to where I lay. "This," he said, reaching over and breaking my shin bone. I screamed in pain. "Is for taking my wife." 

"This," he grabbed my shoulder and quickly dislocated it, "is for betraying me."

"This," he grabbed the knife he had thrown at me and stabbed it into...you know where. I screeched in pain but was too shocked and weak to move. "Is for thinking you could be my friend after what you did."

"And this," he pulled out a silver gun and aimed it at my heart, "is for thinking you could trust me. This is for your wife and kids." He pulled the trigger and the world went dark.