Essay: House

“Dear, the furniture movers are here. It looks like someone finally bought the house next door,” Marissa said to her husband while peering out of their well-polished windows.

“Oh...can you see who it is?” Her husband, Andrew, joined her at the windows.

“Looks like an old man. I wonder how he managed to buy that house.”

“Well, I don’t really care, as long as he keeps our pathway clean and leaves our beautiful garden untouched,” Andrew replied with a sniff of disdain.

However, just after a short period of time, the undesirable happened. To Andrew’s incredulity, the old man constantly left his rubbish along the pathway, not even attempting to place them nicely beside the rubbish bins provided. The litter attracted stray cats and cockroaches. To Marissa’s aversion, she found a number of cockroaches; both dead and alive in their garden numerous times.

“I can’t stand this anymore! Ever since that old man moved into the neighbourhood, the amount of vermin has multiplied!” screeched Marissa as she brought out the insecticide from their storage room.

“Alright, that’s it! I’ve had enough with that old man!” Andrew bellowed, as he stormed out of the house and approached his neighbour’s house. Andrew, with no intention of being considerate, banged onto the old man’s door. A few seconds later, the door opened, revealing the old man. Andrew did not wait for a response.

“I’ve had enough of your nuisance! You keep leaving rubbish everywhere – my garden is now full of pests because of you!” Andrew shouted at the old man. He could already feel hatred towards the old man.

“It’s not my fault you do not know how to take care of your garden well,” the old man replied plaintively, his voice as screechy as a badly-played violin.

“My garden used to be free of vermin until you came! Don’t you know how to keep things clean?! Although from the sight of your ugly eyes, you probably don’t!” That was the end of their conversation. Andrew strode angrily back to his house.

The following night, Andrew and Marissa were walking home, drunk, from a friend’s party. As they staggered along the pathway leading to their semi-detached house, the old man appeared. 

“Andrew, Marissa, come my lovely neighbours. Come inside my house.” The couple, easily deceived in their drunken state, entered the house.

“You two should take a shower while I prepare warm food for both of you,” the old man suggested. As Andrew and Marissa entered the bathroom, the old man made his way to the kitchen. 

Half a minute later, as Andrew was about to undress himself, he felt someone pushing him into the bathtub. Due to his blurry vision, he could not identify who it was. Seconds later, Marissa was pushed into the bathtub. She yelped as her head hit the hard, ceramic tub. 

“Well I’m sorry to have to interrupt you, but I’m afraid your shower will have to wait.” It was the old man. He drew out a knife from his pocket, its metal plated surface gleaming from the bathroom light. It was swift – before Andrew could realise what was happening, his wife was being stabbed before his very eyes. She let out a harrowing wail. It took him a few more seconds to gather his thoughts and emotions before he could register that he was in imminent danger. As he struggled to get out of the bathtub, the old man grabbed hold of him. He tried to free himself from the old man’s vice-like grip, but the old man was surprisingly stronger than him at that moment and he failed to escape. 

“Trying to run away?” The old man let out a wicked laugh. He grabbed Andrew’s garb and shredded it into pieces. Pushing Andrew harder, he locked Andrew’s position by pressing his legs onto Andrew’s. It was too easy for the old man – he took Andrew’s life with one deep slash across his throat. Crimson blood gushed out of the open wound and soon enough, warm blood covered an eighth of the tub. The old man washed his blood-stained hands, the knife and drained the blood in the tub. He covered the wounds with bandages and dragged the two bodies; one by one to his backyard and spent the rest of his night digging two deep pits and placing the bodies into them. He also had to clean any trails of blood on the floor. 

Two weeks later, the police started investigating residents around the place as there was a strong foul smell given off in the vicinity. Soon, the police arrived at the old man’s house.

“Mr. Lee, do you know what happened to the couple who lived next door? We asked around and many said they last saw them entering your house. Is it true?” A policeman questioned the old man.

“Uh...no....of course...not...I...uh...I don’t-” As soon as Mr. Lee started tripping over his words, the policeman searched his house in a heartbeat. A split second later, his personality changed and he was racked with guilt. “I killed them! I killed them! Fine, fine! I did it!” Mr. Lee burst out, covering his ears while shaking his head violently. 

Mr. Lee turned out to be crazy and was sent to the Institution of Mental Health. He was diagnosed with bipolar disorder which explained his split personality. The confession was made but what was done could not be erased.

Author's Note: I might be posting the essays I write in school. I'll probably will only post the better ones. What do you guys think? It's my first time writing a murder story. Comments, please.

Self-Grade: 6/10