I go downstairs for breakfast. Turns out, I slept till 3pm. My one dad says, in a sarcastic voice, “Ah, so you aren’t dead.” My other dad lets out a quiet laugh. I sit down to eat. My dad had made waffles, but they’re already cold. I heat them up, then sit down to eat. I suddenly remember what happened at the skatepark. I tell my dad, “I think I saw the murderer yesterday.” My dad is shocked. He responds, “I can’t believe this. Please be careful and stay out of trouble.” I tell him I’ll try. 

    I finish eating and put my plate in the sink. I head back upstairs to my room to do more research. I find the article about Jesse and it talks about the state he was in when found. It says he was found with a stab wound in the left side and  nail marks on his wrists. He obviously put up a fight. The knife was actually still there in his side. The killer probably left it there to guarantee a slow and painful death. Pulling the knife out would’ve caused him to die quickly as he’d lose more blood that way. What kind of psycho would do that to a kid? Jesse didn’t get to complete his dreams. He wanted to be a pro skater, and sometimes he’d joke about us living in an apartment together. I guess both our dreams were ruined.