I bolted out of my deep sleep and screamed. It was the searing pain in my gut, that caused it, I realized. I tried to sit up, but a surge of pure agony tore through my whole being. I groaned, and rolled onto my side, ignoring the pain, and vomited onto my bedroom floor.

I heard the shatter of glass. I couldn't locate the sound, for my eyes were half closed, but I felt the gush of cool midnight air tingle across my skin. The fresh scent helped rid my nostrils of something I didn't even know was present. The overwhelming scent of blood. I reached my feeble hand towards the pain, and gasped. As I pulled away my fingers, they grew warm, and moist. I cast my gaze onto them, and wasn't surprised when I saw my own blood.

My eyes glanced to my abdomen.  I saw the silver glint, and knew what had happened.  I've been stabbed!  I took a deep breath, then winced.  Finally, I sat up, ignoring the bile that rose up through my throat.  I slowly, slipped my feet off the bed, and flexed my legs, standing up.  I fell onto the wooden floor. 

Knowing it would be nothing but impossible to walk, I crawled, looking up to the broken window as I passed, like a turtle steadily crossing the road.  I reached my desk with little strength, realizing I wouldn’t live to tell the tale. Then I must write it. I reached for the cherry top, and groped around a while, until I found a lone pen and blank stationary.

And I wrote, the night breeze enveloping me. I wrote to my family, with my dying breath, of my never-ending love for them, and giving them some possible clues to my killer. Although I didn’t know much. And as I felt the last bit of blood possible leave my veins, I sighed. It was over.

?

The woman rapped on her daughter’s door. There was no reply. She plowed right in. Marisol’s bed was empty, however, the floor was not. Lying next to her desk, the dead 15 year old was surrounded in a puddle of blood, a piece of paper in her hand, and a knife deep into her stomach. Mrs. Rodriguez picked it up, and read the following:

Mother,

I do not know my killer. I do not know the reason for my murder. But I will tell you this, it it, indeed a murder. He stabbed me, I assume it was a he. Then he shattered the window, and must have fled. I cannot help you except to recommend you check the window and dagger embedded in my gut for prints.

I have little time left. But give my love to Andre, and Esperanza, and Papa, and Gran. And of course, I will always love you whether in heaven or h***, and I know, I know you will always love me.

Much love,
Mariso

And she couldn’t finish her name. One letter off. A single tear rolled down Mrs. Rodriguez’s cheek, and landed on the note. She set it down. Not thinking, the woman stepped to the two story window, and jumped.