Chicago - 1915
The cool water splashed over Josh's feet, causing him to shiver, laughter escaping his throat as he turned to smile at Justin. Justin pushed him into the stream from the open fire hydrant with his own laugh, eyes sparkling, water glistening in his hair in the afternoon sun.
All around them the hustle and bustle of afternoon activity ran strong. Cars moved up and down the street, honking at each other as they bumped over the cobblestone. Smoke drifted up from the sewers, after effects of the rain that morning. People moved in and out of shops, doing their daily business. The smell of freshly baked bread slid out of the small bakery behind them, reminding Josh of his house, of his mom.
School had let out almost an hour earlier and he and Justin had met up outside the school house. They'd spent a fair amount of time lazily walking home, laugher spreading between them. The weather was light and warm, the sun shining down on them, and the carefree afternoon had affected them. Neither was in any hurry to get home. The open fire hydrant had called to them and they'd shared a look before running for it, books dropped on the sidewalk, away from the water.
Josh's mind flashed, just for a moment, to when he would arrive home. He was sure he was in for a stern look from his mother, but at the moment the water felt too good, too relaxing, for him to really care.
Justin turned until his eyes met Josh's. He was shorter, by almost a head, but Josh could tell he was going to be tall, probably taller than Josh himself once they both hit their full height. He was two years younger than Josh but he was still Josh's best friend. His corduroy knickers and button down white shirt were soaked, clinging to his small body, his curly hair matted to his head, dripping water down his face. But his smile said he didn't care at all. His eyes shimmered with excitement as he stepped closer to Josh.
"Tag, you're it." Justin tapped Josh on the shoulder before sprinting up the street, bending to grab his books as he ran. Josh chased him, laughter filling the air, adding to the afternoon noise. Dodging around people, around carts of fresh fruits and vegetables, weaving into the street and cutting between bikes and cars, they ran. Justin ducked between two buildings, the dark alleyway a short cut, and Josh followed quickly. Emerging on the other side, Justin sprinted into a small park, the grass a welcome relief on his bare feet. He was halfway through the park when Josh lunged for him, sending them both sprawling across the grass.
They lay next to each other laughing, eyes squinted against the bright sun, breaths coming in deep pants from the exertion. In Josh's twelve year old mind, this was the perfect day. He wasn't naive enough to think it would last forever, but for now, with his best friend by his side, it was enough to be able to be carefree. He knew one day, sooner than later, things would change and he would have responsibilities, but for now, this was enough.
They lay there until the sun started to set. Dinner would be ready and they both knew it was time to head home. Gathering their books, they walked together until they had to part, Justin heading down one street as Josh turned to head down another. They waved goodbye and Josh turned, quickening his pace to get home.
His house was nestled in a quiet neighborhood, blocks from the main part of the city. He knew it was one of the nicer neighborhoods and was proud of where he lived. The house itself was two stories. A wide porch, three steps up from the ground, wrapped around the front and down one side of it, a white railing standing as a barrier between the porch and the ground. Large windows decorated the front of the house and a tall door, painted to contrast the rest of the house, caught attention immediately.
Josh hopped up the steps and stopped before the door. There, laying on the porch, just in front of the door, were four white roses, their longs stems littered with thrones. Specks of red were smudged along the delicate petals. Josh's blood ran cold. He knew what this meant. He'd known for years what this meant. His eyes went to the door before shifting back to the roses again, laying so innocently. Bending slowly, he picked them up, careful not to prick himself, and pushed the door open just enough to be able to peek inside. It was quiet, too quiet. The sounds of his brother's and sister's voices didn't reach his ears. The smell of dinner that normally wafted through the house, hitting his sense wasn't there. It was eerie.
Still listening intently, for any sound, eyes glancing quickly back and forth across the room, he slipped inside, the door still open behind him, the roses still clutched tightly in his hands. Slowly, with the greatest care not to make a sound on the hardwood floors, he moved through the house, eyes darting, looking for anything strange our out of place.
It was in the kitchen that he saw them, his mother slumped over the table, a deep crimson stain running down her back. His brother and sister were on the floor, leaning against each other. Dark stains covering their clothing as well. Their eyes were open wide, filled with terror.
The scream that rose up in his throat burst out of him as he stumbled backwards, crashing into the wall. He needed to get out, needed to get away. But his body wouldn't move. His feet were planted firmly, eyes wide. He wanted them closed, needed them closed. Needed to look away, needed to get away. But his body wasn't cooperating. His mind wasn't working anymore. All he could see, all he could grasp was his family, laying before his eyes. Dead. They were dead and he needed to get out.
Panic coursed through him, made him stumble forward, made his legs work again. He was almost to the door when he heard it, a soft whisper, his father's voice. It was coming from his study. Josh stopped in his tracks, eyes filled with fear, tears leaking down his face. Slowly, he made his way to the door, peering inside cautiously. His father was on the floor, blood still pooling around him. His hand was pressed against his stomach, covered in blood.
"Josh." Josh could see the pain in his father's face, hear it in his voice. "Son, get out of here. Go to Justin's. Go there and give Randy the roses. Go. Now." His eyes closed and Josh watched with horror as his father took one last breath before becoming still. His hand fell away from his stomach and Josh saw the hole, blood still pouring out of it.
He ran without thought, ran faster than he'd ever run in his life. He ran through the night, roses still clutched in his hand, the thorns digging into his skin. But he didn't feel it. He didn't feel anything except the pain and the fear from seeing his family, dead before his eyes.