Jack hadn’t meant for it to happen, he hadn’t meant to kill the man. But the creep had been following him. In the woods. At night.

At first Jack thought the guy was just lost. But then he’d turned around and there he was, in all his creepy glory, grinning like a maniac. It was practically instinct when Jack had picked up the branch and hit the man in the face. The creep had fallen instantly.

Jack had stood there, just staring, overwhelmed by the strength he didn’t know he had. Frozen Jack studied his victim: tall, dark, dead and holding a knife, Jack shuddered. The full moon was glinting evilly off the metal.

Sirens flared loudly nearby, pulling Jack out of his shock. He had to run.

So Jack ran. His mom was going to be irate, but getting caught at a crime scene was so much worse.

Soon, his house came into view and in an instant, Jack was up the stairs and inside. He slammed the door and sank against it, slowly sliding down.

“Jack?” said his mother when she walked into the front room. “What are you doing out so late? I thought you’d gone to bed.”

Jack stood and walked towards his room. “I’ll tell you tomorrow, mom.” then he shut his door, turned on the lamp and flopped onto his bed. Jack was asleep within minutes.

The next day, seconds after waking up, he ran out the front door before his mom could stop him. Ran all the way back to the crime scene. Why? He wanted it to all have been a bad dream. Needed it to have been a dream.

The body wasn’t there, but the dirt around the area was stained with the man’s blood.

Crunch.

A stick broke. Jack turned in the direction of the sound. A police officer stepped out from behind a huge bush. “Hey, you! Stop right there!”

But Jack didn’t stop, not even to think. He just did what he always did. He ran.