text: My past is something that constantly lives in the very back of my mind. A tale that I never dare utter out loud. Even now, 15 years later, I start shaking at the bare thought of what had happened. However, I can not remain silent forever, and I need my voice to be heard, for the sake of younger me. I remember it being a cold, bitter night, as expected from the merciless winter in the desolate state of California. I had just arrived at my local convenience store, for my night shift, and I distinctively recall having a gut wrenching feeling almost as if something totally unexpected was about to occur. The air felt thick, and I could smell the damp earth after a long winter rain and I took it all in, slowly breathing, as if it was going to be my last time smelling it. I’m known for being a rational person, and for that reason alone, I ignored said feeling. In that dark, silent night, only my thoughts were keeping me company. Working from 2a.m-8a.m was usually uneventful, and I only needed to interact with the occasional smoker or drunkard. After dropping out of college, I was doing my best balancing work as a babysitter in the evenings and being a convenience store clerk at dawn. I quite cherished that job, as the pay was generous and the workload was light, despite the shady owner, Jeff. An old guy who has probably seen too much in his lifetime. I’ve heard rumours regarding him as a pedophile and a pervert who has supposedly taken advantage of dozens of middle-school girls and female part-timers. However, I have yet to see evidence of these claims first-hand and I was satisfied with how things were going. The buzzing from the artificial ceiling lights was greatly contributing to my pulsating headache. The door bell jingled a lovely melody and a cold breeze hugged me, forcibly pulling me out of my meaningless thoughts. The first customer of the night walked in and paid for an overpriced pack of Marlboro. The interaction was brief and straightforward, as expected. I will never understand the concept of smoking. I honestly don’t see the appeal of spending money for the purpose of shortening my life expectancy, not as if its any of my business. Sighing a long breath, I looked out of the window to take in the very familiar, yet comforting sight of the empty streets. I directed my gaze towards a parked car that I’ve failed to notice up until now. I guessed it was a sixth generation Honda Civic, although the limited amount of light outside made it hard to tell. The small parking area in front of the store was always empty at that time of the day, so to me, that was unusual. I observed the car for a couple of minutes, waiting for something to happen. Slowly growing impatient, I grabbed my SwissTech keychain (not the prettiest out there, but definitely the most useful in terms of keeping me safe) and I headed outside, walking in a straight line towards the suspicious car. I’m still not sure what I was expecting, but I thought that whatever would happen will most definitely quench my thirst of curiosity. Only a few inches away from the intriguing vehicle, I noticed that it is empty, and that the trunk is slightly open. Despite fully knowing that I am not allowed to touch somebody else’s property, I jerked the trunk open. I immediately knew I had just made a terrible mistake. A mistake that will never be undone. My eyes widened in pure terror and my heart was a train pounding down the tracks. I broke out in a cold sweat, and I could not take my vision away from the tied down stranger in front of me. Their casual clothes were drenched with blood, and they did not move a single inch. I did not want to assume the worst, but frankly, I was definitely looking at nothing other than a fresh corpse. I winced, feeling sick and pained and winded all at once. I could not breath. My mind was foggy. Leave. I knew I had to leave. Before I even had the chance to process what I had just witnessed, rushed footsteps combined with the freezing rain to produce music. Terrifying music that almost sounded like a warning.