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by Teddy Bahnck (6th grade)

“Auction house. 21:30.” was the text that I received this morning. Rather hasty and vague, quite unusual for something Jackson would send me. I pulled up to the dull, old building. It wasn’t cleaned often, due to lack of staff. I had been spending a lot of time at the auction house, because my dad helps out there. It’s basically the main hotspot of my small town.

The unusually eerie parking lot gave me the chills. I opened the squeaky, rusty, metal door that entered the auction house. Jackson was there. And he had company.

Apparently, I didn’t notice the police cars in the back of the property, flashing bright, red and blue lights. Sometimes, I swear I’m blind. The tables were marked by caution tape that stated a crime scene. Jackson finally noticed me, and I gasped. “What… happened?”

“We’re… not quite sure. Apparently, there was a… murder,” he stammered, face rather pale.

“Murder?”  I echoed. “How…?”

A police officer noticed our worry and walked cautiously towards us. “Right, I see ya fine young men have stumbled upon this… situation,” he said slowly. He had a strong western accent, and across his badge read “Montgomery.”

“Can you explain… what happened?” I said fearfully.

“Well, to give ya the truth, we’re… not sure. There is no evidence that any specific human has committed this assassination.” The officer responded with a straight face. “I’m sure that major crimes’ has this covered. Don’t worry, lad.”

“How can I not worry? This place is like my second home. It may just be an auction house to you, but it’s way more to my quiet town. This is where everyone gathers, has fun, and socializes.” It had just occurred to me that Jackson has been being ignored. “Jackson, let’s get out of here. Officer Montgomery, if you think that major crimes has this covered, then hand the case over to them. Anyone that cares and understands, and can get their job done.”

I stormed out angrily, not looking back to see whether or not Jackson would follow me. I sat on the curb by the parking lot, just outside of the entrance. Jackson sat next to me a minute later. 

“Wow, Leo, quite some nerve you got there.”

“Yeah, well, this place means a lot to me,” I replied in an embarrassed tone. “And, who would commit such a thing in a quiet, safe town like this one?”

“I don’t know, but I sure hope the feds crack the case.”

“The feds…? They’re getting the government involved?”

“Yeah. You know, if you had stayed a little longer, you could have found out the whole story,” Jackson said playfully.

“So, are you going to continue looking at me with that stupid expression or explain?” I asked, a smirk along my face.

“Alright, alright. He only gave me a brief explanation based on the witnesses and ‘evidence.’ It wasn’t a lot, really-”

I cut him off. “Come on, get to the point, Jackson!”

“As I was saying,” Jackson said with an annoyed tone. “An auction was going on at the time -  an elegant one, for important people, I think. Everything was fine, until there were suddenly gunshots. Then a gun was thrown onto the floor. Many people fell in shock. But then blood was dripping along the walls, somehow spelling ‘LOOK BEHIND YOU,” despite no one being there to spell it out. Then, a young man, perhaps a few years older than us, saw this, then looked behind him. All of a sudden, he fell, blood gushing out of him. Later, he was pronounced dead at the hospital. The attacker was nowhere to be seen. It just… happened.”

“Rubbish. How in the world could that possibly happen? I’m going to need to see this video tape evidence,” I responded, annoyed. Surely this is all a hoax, and Jackson’s just playing with me. I thought to myself.

“What I am saying is true - well, what I’ve been told. That is what the officer said - and what the witnesses told him. If you have a problem, bring it up to him,” Jackson said, practically reading my mind.

“Yeah, I’m not blaming you. There just… seems like something’s missing. Something fishy is going on here, and I don’t like-” I was suddenly cut off  by a car swerving into the parking lot. A pitch black, almost-invisible-in-the-night, completely dimmed - windows, tail lights, and headlights Honda Accord. An earlier model.

It crashed into the auction house. Airbags deployed. The driver, in a pitch-black hoodie - extremely hard to see or notice in the darkness - quickly hopped out of the car and sprinted. The car caught fire.

Jackson and I just sat there on the curb, watching the terror unfold in front of our eyes.