Perspective

a)
Thunk. Thunk. Glass shatters. Who’s here? I turned my head, slowly. I’m in the bedroom. Creaaaak. I opened the door slowly. Is someone in here? “June? Are you here?” I yelled. I walked to the living room and saw the broken window. Holy shit! Someone tried breaking in. There’s blood on the floor. Huge footprints of blood are along the white carpet. Am I bleeding? I touched my head to make sure I wasn’t bleeding. Was there anything on me? I went to the bedroom and looked for my phone. I saw the red footprints going somewhere. The basement? I took a baseball bat. June’s son was in the Little Leagues and he had a famous signed on from Emil Brown. I crept on my tip of my toes and followed the footprints. I heard the board creak louder as I got closer to the basement. I was by the door and it opened. Someone was breathing heavy next to me. “Hello David,” a guy had a blade held in front of my face.

b)
This was June’s house. This is a beautiful light blue house. Two stories and a front porch, this is the best location. I walked to her front door and it was locked. I looked up to the sky. It is 11:30 PM. I bumped into June a couple days ago. She was with her beautiful son and they finished baseball practice. She saw me and tried to walk away. Avoiding me doesn’t work. “Juneee!” She turned around and smiled. What a fake smile. Her son looked at me. He looked maybe 5five or six. What piercing green eyes he has! She looked at me, she pleaded. We walked to the park and her son met up with a friend. “Why are you here?” She was terse.
“Where’s David?”
“I don’t know. We broke up a few days ago.”
I killed her. No, I couldn’t, her poor son was her escape card. She believed every word I said about David.
I threw some rocks at the window. The window wouldn’t break. I saw a beer bottle. It opened. I went through. Crap, my footprints are red. Was he here? “Juneee? Are you here?” Yes, it is HIM. He finally gets what he deserves. I purposely walked around the house, examining her house. There was a creaking on the stairs. Where is he? I see him. He’s holding a baseball bat. His arms were built, and his stance was so tall. The attic door opened. I came from behind him. “Hello David,” I smirked. I pulled the blade and his eyes widened. I finally got him.