Eline Haworth, April 21 of 20XX

Uncle Jason started back at work, though the chief told him his leave from work could go on longer. He wouldn’t agree to it and said, ‘Please chief, I need this, it’s all I have!’ and they went back and forth. Arguing over what cases he could take on. Under no exceptions was Jason allowed to touch the Alley Stitcher case. Not the one that tore him apart. The one that changed us forever, leaving nothing but a shattered shell of a man. I still see that moment when my thoughts wonder. The sadness he expelled as he moaned and groaned.

Woven ever so close, tearing into the skin. There were already some there, thick and soaked in blood, and the small stitches were nothing compared to them. Their skin like the snow, auntie looked towards the heavens and Becky who had problems sleeping at night slept soundly. The stitches spotted all over their ribs and stomach, left a bitter aftertaste. The parts that were once there are gone now and a thin layer of skin covers the holes. As they laid on the autopsy table, not only was there a hole in them, there was a hole in Uncle Jason’s heart.

On his knees holding auntie’s hand he roared as salty droplets pelted the ground. Placing her hand onto his forehead, he made a promise. A promise he is still chasing today. “I swear I’ll catch that monster, if not for my job, for you and Becky..,” he said trying to whisper, but with the snot escaping he had to speak up. So, me and Sophie heard him. Sophie standing beside me shuddered at his words. A brave statement at the time. After all it was that monster that killed them.

Me and Sophie went to look at them too. Sophie was the one that often played with Becky. At the mere sight of seeing our dear cousin like that, she broke down and her legs gave out, hovelling onto the floor. Uncle Jason and Sophie both thought of it as a tragedy. Letting their emotions seep out. I felt different, to me auntie and Becky were serene and peaceful. Their faces were plastered with a smile, so they had to be happy. I couldn’t understand what was worth crying over, I still don’t. I do care about them and I’m not happy they were hurt, but I can’t deny who I am.

Uncle Jason stood up and gathered their belongings and his. Heading for the door, he waved for us to come along. While we were leaving I gave them a last look, why did Becky have to take the brunt of it? The door shut and out went the scars. They were given a proper funeral a week later, but the remnants of the attack couldn’t be seen, for they were hideous. Uncle Jason had changed by then, no longer did he cry, he wore a strong smile for them and only for them.

How did the Alley Stitcher track them down? We have yet to find out. Fervent in his search, Uncle Jason hopes by breaking the rules he can find the monster. I’ve seen no such luck, but as I scratch at paper with pen and ink I believe he is getting near to finding them.

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, “I can’t understand, how is it that I haven’t found them. I prowl the same alley,” Ellie said.

Patting her journal and yawning, she placed it on the nightstand. Before she could lie in bed, a knock stopped her.

“Come in!” she yelled whilst sitting upright on her bed.

“Hey, sis,” Sophie said as she entered.

“Hey, why are you still up?”