(Nine years before Jason’s arrest.)

Jason sat on his bed at the house, waiting for his mother to come back from her job. She’s normally not this late, what could’ve happened? He didn’t know, but he still waited. Perhaps she was working overtime to get more money to pay for rent.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

A hard knocking was heard on the door, it echoes through the walls of the old house like a voice echoes through a cave. Jason felt alarmed by this, nobody knocks on the door that hard, especially after his mom told him not to do so. Jason remembered his mother telling him, “Son, never open the front door for anyone, you aren’t old enough to handle whatever situation it may be.” So Jason refused to answer.

The knocking became louder, as the knocker knocked harder on the door. Jason stayed in his room, but was still alarmed. He didn’t know whether he should call the police or his mom. He didn’t know if he should answer the door. But he knew that he probably should make it seem like nobody was home.

Harder the harder the knocker knocked. Until the point where it became a bang. Banging and banging on the door. It sounded like the door was about to break open. Jason, even though he was nervous and his heart was racing like a race car, still refused to answer. He began to fear for himself, and tears began to drop onto the carpet.

After five intense minutes of banging on the door, the banger left. This left Jason all alone. He didn’t know if it was over or not, he just sat in the corner of his room, terrified. Is he gonna die?

Probably not… although thirteen is an unlucky number. He’ll be fine, I’m sure.

“Jason, are you okay?”