Of course, this is about Shane. So anything in 1st P.O.V. Is Shane, unless I say so differently.

I have some really bad secrets to share with someone, so it might as well be you-a stranger, a dear reader. But why am I telling you this? Because you cannot hurt me. So here goes nothing, or maybe everything? I can't really tell a difference anymore. 

     The night of my parents death was cold, snowy and a long one. I can remember hearing my older brother, Peter, screaming, as our parents were taken down in black slick body bags. 
"Our parents were vile! But they didn't deserve to be taken out with the trash" Oh how he was right about the first statement, but at the story continues, he was becoming more and more wrong about his second statement. But I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I? Anyways, I had been asleep downstairs on the couch, directly under my parents room when it happened. The funny thing is, I didn't hear it happen, not a single scream or anything. But, I did awake to screeching sirens. But that's pretty normal for downtown Gotham, right? But what was really off, is when the sirens stopped downstairs. I thought the building has caught on fire, or my neighbor had a stroke. But nothing could prepare me for what was next. I heard a buzzing noise, was the doorman paging us? I removed myself from the two layers of blankets and got up from the couch and slowly made my way to the the door. 
"Hmmm?" I pressed a button.
"Mister Shane?" The doormans voice came over the intercom, 
"What is it?" my voice was groggy making it obvious I had been asleep. 
"There are two police officers on the way up. There was no stopping them." 
"What?! My parents will kill me if they come in!" I straightened when I heard a knock at the door. I walked over an unlocked the door, opening it barely. 
"What?" I saw two police officers infront of me, one who was short and looked like he'd been eat way to many doughnuts. And tall and slender one who had a beard shaped like a hatchet..knife? Yeah. 
"Let us in!" The short one shouted and showed me his badge. 
"Go away, you've got the wrong apartment. No one here called the police." 
"Open the door sir, now." 
"I'll get my parents." I said through the crack. But little did I know my parents were dead and that we would be the only suspects in a double homicide. I was in my last moment of innocence. 
   But who was I kidding? No one in the Parker family was ever innocent.

"Open up or my partner will kick open the door!" Hatchet face called out. It's not exaggeration that my whole family was about to get a wake up call from Hell. I opened the door and swung it open. Of course, the one night I had chosen to only sleep in my boxers was the night the police decided to appear. 
"What's your name?" 
"Shane Parker." I stretched and started walking. "Stay here." 
"We'll come with you." The hatchet face one face told me this wasn't a request. I sighed and turned on a light and walked up the circular staircase. Before I could disagree the cops were already in parents bedroom, the light on as the stood over the bed. Even with the cops standing in the way, I could tell that my father and mother didn't look right. Their sheets and blanket were on the floor, and their nightclothes bunched under their arms. My fathers arm looked as if it had been twisted out of place. My mother was lying face down across my father's body, and her tongue was sticking out of her mouth. It had turned black. I didn't need a coroner to tell me they were dead, diagnosis certain. 
"I'm sorry to do this." The officer said then shut the door in my face.  I didn't try to open it, just stood there motionless, almost not breathing. I went downstairs and got my phone, I called both my under Tom, and our lawyer, Philippe Montaigne. Then I went and told my siblings' bedrooms, and to Samantha's too. And somehow, I told them the horrible news that our Mother and Father were dead, and could have been murdered.