“I know where all the missing socks go,” I said, beaming up at the woman who was babysitting me. I was excited to tell her what I found.

“What was that?” She asked. “I know where the missing socks go, Ms. Bianca!” I repeated. “Really? Where do they go?” She bent down to ask. “Follow me!”

I lead her down the hallway and into the mud room. Outside the window, clouds blocked the stars in the night sky. I opened the basement door and began descending the steps, when Ms. Bianca interrupted me.

“Oh, uh, are you sure they’re down here? Not anywhere else?” She asked hesitantly.

“I’m sure. This is where they go.”

The basement was full of cobwebs and dead bugs. Ms. Bianca hates the basement.

The basement was quiet.

I want it to stay quiet.

Ms. Bianca better stay quiet.

“Look, the missing socks!” I exclaim, pointing to behind an old brown couch.

There is no socks there.

I am lying.

Ms. Bianca believes me.

I reach into a box on the ground. I placed that box there beforehand on purpose. Inside the box is a kitchen knife.

“I don’t see any socks over here, are you sure—“ she turns to me, and her speech is cut off.

I stabbed Ms. Bianca.

The police won’t take me away.

I am only a child.

“What are you—“ she chokes. She’s still talking. I’ll stab her again. He blood doesn’t smell nice. But it’s nicer than her perfume.

“Please sto—“ she is still talking. I want the basement quiet.

After the third time, Ms. Bianca is quiet. The basement is quiet.

Nobody will ask about Ms. Bianca. Nobody will find Ms. Bianca.

Goodbye, Ms. Bianca.