The Silent Night : Flash Fiction

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I wondered why the neighbourhood was so quiet, especially on a weekend. Something told me to get out and do some investigating work but then again, I’m not the kind of person who gives a damn about what other people do with their lives. It wasn’t about half an hour after I closed my eyes to go to sleep when I realised that there was someone else in my house. I didn’t close the lights in the living room, thus, if anyone stood at the door, I would notice it and that night, someone did stand there.

My first instinct was to run but then again, it was a relatively safe neighbourhood which means that nobody has the slightest idea what it feels like to be robbed, let alone what to do in a house invasion. It was five minutes later that I started to hear the scratchings on the door. The person whoever it was is showing me that they had a knife while I’m unarmed. As I have never bothered to change the doorknob, the door could easily give away to brute force and it did ten minutes later. It wasn’t until the knife slit my throat that I realised why it was such a silent and quiet night. Nobody expected the newly elected mayor to be a psychopath.

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