This happened to me when I was 13. I always used to love the holidays, especially Christmas. I guess because I loved getting gifts like every other kid. Don’t judge me, but I come from a wealthy family. We live in a beautiful 2 level 5 bedroom, 6 bathroom home on Long Island, NY. My sister and I go to a private school, and we take several vacations a year. Yes, we are spoiled. My parents both work high paying jobs doing who knows what, but it brings in money, so who cares?
What happened on Christmas Eve when I was 13 really made me dread the holidays. I still have nightmares about it. This is my scary Christmas story.
On December 21, it was my sister Julie’s birthday. She turned 9. Because it was so close to Christmas, my parents did not spoil her too much. So they just gave her Robux, like $100 worth of Robux. She was very happy and held on to the money until Christmas Eve. We always have family and my parents friends come over on the Eve for dinner and a party. Myself and Julie would stay in our rooms and just watch movies and play video games. Why would we want to hang out with family and their friends anyway? On Christmas Eve, at 6 p.m., they all came over dressed up in their best holiday threads. The women in their sparkly red and green gowns and the men in their black and white tux’s. As Julie and I were in my room playing Roblox, we heard all the chatter, the laughter, and the clinking of fancy wine glasses. All seemed typical until we heard a loud scream from one of the guests. It sounded like a scream right out of a slasher movie. Julie and I jumped! “What the hell was that?” I asked her. Like she would know. She said, “That sounded like Aunt Dee!” We just looked at each other in terror.
I decided, because I was older, I would go check things out. I slowly opened the bedroom door and walked towards the staircase leading to the living room, where the party was being held. Julie just peaked her head out the bedroom door and watched me, her eyes as big as saucers. She put her finger on her lips to tell me to be quiet. I looked down the stairs, and at the bottom of the steps was a pool of blood. Red blood! There was a commotion, and it sounded like people were panicking. They were asking each other what they should do. I ran into the kitchen where my parents were, and I asked what happened. Who was hurt? My mother was just staring out into the backyard; she did not answer me. My father told me to get back upstairs. I demanded an answer! I mean, are we safe? Did someone break in and hurt one of the guests? Did you call the cops?
“GET UPSTAIRS!” my father yelled. I ran like my life depended on it. I ran into my bedroom, locked the door, and grabbed Julie to stay close to me. We were confused and scared, our hands shaking. I asked Julie if she thought I should call 911 or just wait and see. She told me to call them now! “Crap, my phone is downstairs; give me yours!” Julie ran into her room and got me her phone. As I was calling 911, our father came into our room and saw me. He told me to put the phone down. Do not call anyone. I told him I was calling for help; why can’t I call? He told us he was dealing with it; just stay in the room. He looked very stressed, and he actually scared us with how intense he was being.
We obeyed him. Once he left our room, we waited a few minutes, and I decided to go downstairs again to try and hear what they were doing. I will always regret making that decision.
So, I told Julie to stay in the bedroom and close the door. As I slowly walked down the steps and into the living room, I saw only four people huddled in a circle, whispering. The circle included my parents, our Aunt Dee, and Uncle Rob. I ran into the kitchen and saw a trail of blood leading out the back door. My heart started to race, my hands were sweating, and I was frozen in place.
I walked towards the back door and tried to see what was out there. I was hoping and praying it was from an animal, but I knew better. I walked out the door and followed the trail of blood. As I got near the end of the trail, I saw it. I couldn’t believe it. What was supposed to be a fun, festive annual holiday party turned into a murder mystery I was trying to solve. Who was this person? I couldn’t even tell if it was a male or female. The blood, the stab marks! I heard the back door open, so I ran behind the shed to hide.
The group of four came out, and they stood over the body to discuss what to do with it. They kept saying, “No police, what happened here tonight stays here.” Once they agreed, my father backed his truck into the backyard, and they loaded it up into the bed of what used to be my favorite truck. While three of the murderers left in the truck, my mother started burying the evidence, including the murder weapon. I came out of hiding and approached my mother. I asked her “what happened!? Please tell me!” She started to cry and told me they had to kill our 40 year old neighbor, Tim. I asked her why, he was always so nice to us. She said yes, because he liked Julie and had pictures of her on his phone. His bedroom window faced Julie’s bedroom. The pictures on his phone showed Julie changing clothes and some included her walking home from school. The group accidentally saw the pictures when Tim was showing them pictures of his family, Julie’s happened to be in the mix of photos. When my father saw the pictures, he snapped, grabbed the carving knife from the dinner table and stabbed Tim multiple times. Obviously, if they called the police, my dad would go to prison so they decided to bury Tim’s body out in the woods where he would not be found.