Helena

Helena is a spooky story written by a member of this website called scoobyblobs. It’s about a young girl, her sister, their boyfriends and a spate of unsolved murders that are happening in their town.

Hey, my name is Heather and I live with my older sister, Helena, and my Auntie Susan. I don’t live with my parents… No, they’re in heaven now. They passed away when I was only six years old.

I’m eleven now and my sister is sixteen, going on seventeen next month. She has a boyfriend called Ethan, who is eighteen. They’re thinking about moving in together, but Auntie Susan doesn’t think its such a good idea. She doesn’t like Ethan and thinks he’s a bad influence on my sister.

I have a boyfriend too. His name is Brad. We’ve been going out for two months, but we havent done anything too serious. After all, I’m only eleven and he’s only twelve. We haven’t kissed yet, and we rarely even hug.

One day, as I was walking to school, I got an uneasy feeling, like someone was following me. I started to feel sick and I heard heavy breathing behind me. Someone tapped me on the shoulder.

It was Brad!

“What are you doing?” I yelled. “Haven’t you even heard about the murders going on around here? You scared me half to death!”

“Sorry,” he said with a chuckle. “Yeah, actually, I have heard about the murders… Creepy, huh?”

“Yeah, very creepy,” I said. “I’m so worried about Helena! She goes out at night a lot now, hanging out with Ethan. I hope nothing bad happens to them…”

“I hope so, too,” said Brad. “Even though we’ve never met. I would like to meet your sister though.”

“Ok,” I said. “Why don’t you come to my house tonight and I’ll introduce her!”

After school, Brad came to my house for tea. We had pizza and chips. Helena was dressed in a short skirt and a low-cut top. She was going to meet Ethan that night. I thought she looked like a tramp, but I didn’t want to say anything. Brad kept on staring at my sister’s chest, like a typical stupid boy. I had to kick him in the leg to get him to stop.

At half past seven, just as it was getting dark, Ethan came to pick Helena up. He offered to give Brad a lift home, so we said goodbye, had an amazingly rare hug, and the three of them left.

Helena didnt return at all that night, but she came back in the morning feeling rather upbeat, yet tired. It was a fairly normal day, but on the day after, Brad didn’t come to school. Although I didn’t know it at the time, he was the next victim of the murderer in our town.

I was devastated. Auntie Susan let me stay home from school for a few days, as I was mourning for Brad. I loved him so much, and now that he was gone, I couldn’t face life without him. We all went to his funeral, even Auntie Susan and Helena.

The following week, there were two more murders.

“Enough is enough,” Auntie Susan said. “This town isn’t safe anymore. We’re moving. It is just too dangerous here. Give us two or three days, and we will be gone.”

“NO!” Screamed Helena suddenly. “I’m not leaving my Ethan! I’ll move in with him, and you wont be able to control me anymore. You’re just sad little over-protective bitch! You aren’t even my real mum!”

With that, she stormed out of the room.

I didn’t see her for days. Now I understood why Auntie Susan disliked Ethan, and from that moment on, I hated him too. He had stolen my sister, Auntie Susan’s niece. I was so worried, hoping he wouldnt harm her, or get her pregnant, as she was way too young. He smoked marijuana. What if he got her addicted to drugs. I felt sick with worry for days, until she returned.

Helena didn’t say anything to us, she just ran upstairs, crying. I heard a door slam. Despite Auntie Susan telling me to leave her be, I ran upstairs after her. I heard her sobbing and I opened the door.

Helena was standing there, holding a bloody knife in her hands. She glanced up at me as I entered the room.

“He was cheating on me,” she whispered, “with a skinny blonde model… I saw them making out… He thinks he can cheat on me… I’ll show him…”

Helena clutched the knife tighter.

“I’m going to kill him,” she hissed.

“No!” I protested. “No! Youre better than that low life tramp who’s killing everyone! Much better!”

“Who are you calling a low life tramp?” She hissed, her expression turning from sadness to anger.

I gasped. “It was you? Oh God! Please tell me it wasn’t you!”

“Of course it was me. Who else would kill Brad? Who else would kill our parents?”

And then she got up and left the room, but not before stabbing me in the stomach with the cold, bloodstained knife…