Emery told me this time would come. He told me to be ready because I wouldn’t get a warning. To be honest, I’m scared. I’m almost as scared as when he first showed me it. There’s nothing I can do about it though, so it’s probably in my best interest to just pack my bags and get to work…


    I met Emery when I was 13, a year before I was murdered. He was 15 and had the kind of face that definitely convinced adults of his innocence but one that I saw right through. I could tell he was a psycho from the start. A psycho that was made because of a toxic environment probably. None of my business though.


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    Back then, I was a paperboy even though not one person in our neighborhood read the paper. I randomly decided that day to go up to the front door instead of just throwing the paper. Emery opened the door, slowly looked me up and down, and then leaned in and said to me what I will never forget.


    “I think you’re special, like me. We’ll meet again one day…make sure you come when I call,”


    And then, he presented it