Ali R

January 7, 2015  |  By  | 

my family is out for their daily walk, that a window is open, that everything is fine. But nothing is fine. Everything is as far from fine as it gets. The floor creaks again, this time louder, and I need to get out of here, need to get out of this pla ce I used to call home, but now it feels like a prison cell, like I’m locked up in this place, waiting, wishing I could escape. I carelessly walk up the spiraling stairs into my bedroom. I slump onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling, listening to the creaks, crashes, and slamming coming from below me. It’s coming, I can feel it. My eyes started to close and everything started to fade, and I fell asleep. I open my eyes after a little while of sleeping when I hear a loud thump, thump, thump, coming up my stairs. It sounds as if someone is walking up the stairs, and dragging something behind them. My door slowly cracks open. Before me is the most hideous thing I have ever seen in my entire life. In the candlelight I can make out a face staring at me through the crack in the door. Piercing red eyes, a small grin, flesh ripped off of its face. This monster is how I will die. How I will disappear. The door opens more, and as I get a full image of it, I scream the loudest scream I have ever heard come out of anyone. The monster approaches me, and I shout, “What? What do you want from me?!” It moves forward, coming closer, and releases a low growling noise. It doesn’t speak. It looks at me and in its eyes, I can tell, it’s hurt, angry, up set. The monster points at something across the room, I follow its finger. It points at a picture of my family hanging on the wall. “Them,” it growls. Then I get it. This monster that I have been dreading for months, is doing this because of my family. I observe its face. It looks so familiar, like I had been looking at it all the time. The way it stands, stares. I know this monster. It’s my brother. John approaches the bed that I’m sitting on and stares at me, as if he’s waiting for another scream, any form of a reaction. “You took everything away from me,” he finally says, “ You were always the better person, now look who has everything, everyone, and you don’t have anyone. I got rid of everyone. They’re all dead, gone, you’ll never see them again. You thought you’d never see me again either, didn’t you?” my brother growls slowly. “I never meant for that to happen, it just did,” It’s then, that I realize that I’m sobbing. “You were wrong, but I’m sure you see that now, don’t you? Now I took everything away from you , my dear brother, and you will be alone and have nothing for the rest of your life, but enjoy it while you can, because once you’re dead, guess who you’ll see again?” John pointed his long, dirty finger at his chest, “Oh, and remember the grocery store? That was me too, and that person that I killed, was Mom,” then he turned and limped out of my bedroom. I heard him thump, thump, thump down the stairs. He is gone, and will never be back. I am alone, and will be until I die, then I’ll see him again. That is the most terrifying thought of all.

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