The Message

by Brittany
(Texas)

This picture is very disturbing

A young college student was studying in her dorm room when her roomate walked in.

"i'm exhasuted" complained the roomate.

"Would you mind studying somewhere else, so i can get some sleep?"

The student was sympathetic and readily agrees. She gathered up her books and her papers and walked across campus to the library.

She had been working there for hours when a group of friends found her. They told her that she looked as though she needed a break and that they were on their way to a pub, wich would be just just the thing to take her mind off her books.

The student hesitated for only a moment or two. Then she agreed to go, but said that they'd have to stop by her dormitory on the way, so she could pick up her wallet and a sweater. Everyone agreed.
"Wait here," the student said to her friends when they reached the front steps of the building. "I'll only be a minute." She ran lightly up the stairs to her floor and walked softly down the hallway.

When she reached the door to her room, she inserted the key and turned the knob very slowly. She was determined not to disturb her sleeping roomate. With that in mind, she paused when her fingers touched the light switch. Soon after, she searched through the room (with no light) and found her sweater and wallet. She left the room to find her friends waiting patiently. Several hours later, the student finally returned her dormitory. She was met there by the most disturbing scene.

Several police cruisers sat in front of the building, their lights flashing with eerie rythm. There was an ambulance too. Crime scene barricades were being erected on the lawn. "What happened here?" the student asked person after person. No one would give her an answer. "Is someone hurt? Who is it?" she begged. "I have to know if my roommate's alright!" The student ran upstairs, ignoring all barricades and ducking under the yellow crime scene tape. She dodged every person who tried to stop her. She was horrified to see a concentration of investigators there.

"Who let this girl in?" barked a red-faced detective who appeared to be in charge. "Please," the student gasped "that's my room. I need to find my roomate. The detective softened a little and walked over to the students side.
"I'm sorry." he said. "I'm afraid your roomate is dead. some maniac murdered her- somewhere around seven o'clock, we think. The student felt faint. "That's impossible!" she said. "I stopped back here about seven thirty. Everything was fine."

"You were here, this evening?" asked the detective.

"Yes, for a minute. To get a sweater and my wallet."

"Well, then," the detective said, "perhaps you can help us make sense of something."

He led her into the room then, being careful to sheild her eyes from the grisly scene being photographed and investigated. He directed her into the bathroom and flipped on the light switch. "Do you know what this means?" the detective asked the student. He pointed to the mirror.

The student looked up and felt her knees weaken. Written on the glass, in dried streaks of blood, was a message. Clearly it was left for her.
It read: Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the lights?