On a typical, quiet evening at the Stimpson residence, the Stimpsons were peacefully enjoying a delicious, home-cooked meal of chicken fried steak with buttered noodles, and a side of green bean casserole when, it happened. There were gun shots, shattering glass, and blood.
The next thing they knew, their fourteen year old son, Eddie, was lying on the blood-stained carpet beside his hair. Jeni was his eleven year old sister, let out an ear-piercing scream as she quickly stood up from her seat. Samantha, his mother, slowly approached him, removing his blood-soaked t-shirt. Cautiously not moving him too rapidly. While John, his father, called the police.
Two police cars, a fire engine, and an ambulance arrived at their house three minutes later. While the men placed him on the stretcher, they watched for dangerous signs of death. They believed that maybe if they got Eddie to the hospital in time he might live. So, they rushed him to the hospital, while Samantha and Jeni followed quickly behind, in John’s Ford truck.
At the hospital, the impatient doctors seemed to have a feeling that Eddie was going to live, but told Samantha that it wasn’t looking good. She and Jeni waited suspiciously in the emergency room.
Meanwhile, back at their house, the policemen and John searched for more clues. The glass from the punctured window shattered a few inches past the frame, and the bullet hit Eddie on his upper left thigh. They believed that the whole thing was just group of teenagers. They decided that Eddie was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
About twelve minutes later, Eddie’s whole system shut down. The doctors told his mother and Jeni softly, and recommended a good funeral home. His mother, sobbing hysterically, called John from the hospital and told him the tragic news. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, as he listened with horror at what Samantha was saying. An hour later the police left without a clue, a trace, or a fingerprint.
The next Sunday afternoon they had a nice, small funeral for him. His mother bought a plaque that was mounted into the center of his jet black coffin. The passage written on it read: Edger Dewey Stimpson, born, September 7, 1986 – Died, November 17, 2000.
It had been a month since the incident. The police still had no trail or thought on the shooting. But one Saturday night, at the stroke of around 2:00 A.M. his grave was slaughtered. The next morning, after church, the Stimpsons went to visit Eddie’s grave like they did every Sunday afternoon since the incident, but this week they were in for a big surprise.
The tombstone that once clearly read: “Here lies Edger Dewey Stimpson, a young, energetic boy who lost his life because of the careless people these days. He died on Wednesday, November 17, 2000 at 6:34 PM,” now had a big black X streaked across it. They informed the owner and he called the police. The policemen arrived at the cemetery ready to search for clues, when a young boy came strolling up to John with an angered look on his face. Long, thin strands of black hair cascaded freely down his neck and onto his shoulders. He looked about fifteen years old with sapphire blue eyes, and handsome cheek bones.
With a straight face the boy announced, “Hi, I’m Jeremy, can you explain to me about what happened to Eddie?”
All of a sudden, John grabbed Jeremy by his neck and started to strangle him. Jeni screamed with horror. The policemen tried to get John away from him. When they finally got him a few steps back, John was still strangling and yelling. The two exhausted policemen struggled to keep a hold of him.
When they finally calmed him down enough, not to have to strain to hold on to him, they rudely asked, “What was that all about?”
He replied, “I know Jeremy did it!”
“What makes you think so?” interrupted Samantha.
“I remember one Saturday night, driving Eddie and his best friend, Steve home from the skating rink. I overheard the conversation going on between the two. It seemed that Eddie was in a bad mood, but I didn’t pay a lot of attention to it until Eddie said something about Jeremy. I had never heard of Eddie being friends, or even associating with a guy named Jeremy. Eddie told Steve that Jeremy was angry, but I couldn’t understand what else he said. A few moments later I heard Eddie mention something about a threat that came from Jeremy. I didn’t really think about it at the time, but now it’s all clear to me,” John stated.
Just before Samantha began to talk, Jeremy jumped out, “Alright! I admit it! I killed Eddie!”
Jeni and Samantha started crying, while the policemen put Jeremy in the backseat of their white and black police car.
“What are you going to do to him?” John demanded to know.
“We’ll have to wait until we arrive at the police station to decide that, “answered one of the policemen.
When the Stimpsons approached their vehicle, Jeni and Samantha immediately opened the doors and sat down, anxious to get to the police station. But as John slowly opened his door, he whispered quietly to himself, “If the don’t kill him, I will.”
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