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The Kid
Author's note:
this piece helped me realize how I wrote.
She stared at the fire iron, the dark red blood drip from the end. The house was cold and damp, the rain tapping on the other windows in the living room. Her heart was racing because of what had just happened. The only light was the moon barely bleeding through the window, and the lightning streaked outside. The power went out, and she knew this old house couldn't handle a storm like this.
“Hello?” she screamed. She knew someone was watching her. She ran upstairs, almost slipping on the stairs because she was so scared.
She quickly opened and slammed the door, which echoed throughout the house. Her room felt cold and empty. She and her husband were the only people in their new home. Her mind quickly filled with dark voices that sounded real, but she knew they weren't. It was the type of voice that told you to do the stuff no one would ever think of doing.
She screamed; she felt lightheaded and weak like someone had taken all her strength.
“Shut up! Shut up!” she screams until her voice goes raw. Tears ran down her face, and she blinked and looked around. Where am I? She looked down at the fire iron in her hand and saw the dark red stain on the carpet; the room was cold and smelled rotten, so she backed up and ran, screaming. She went to her bed and hid under the covers. She feels sick, and nothing feels real anymore. She thinks this is just a bad dream, hoping she will wake up any second. She pinched herself until the skin was raw.
Everything went dark, she opened her eyes, but darkness filled the room with darkness. The rain had stopped, and she knew she had fallen asleep. She tries to get up but can't. Her arms and legs feel unmoveable, like trying to carry a bus. She scans the room to find a tall, dark figure in the corner. She starts to cry as she tries to move every last inch of her body. The dark figure begins to move toward her bed. She tries to scream, but she can't.
She shoots up from her bed—the light from the sun bleeding through the window. And the outside looked like the fall green with the trees leaving and the grass dying. She sat there and, in a cold sweat, looked around. Her heartbeat slowed down, and the voices were gone, but she still felt weak. The fresh smell of pancakes was wafting in the air. She got up, almost falling over. A slight knock on the door frightened her, she quickly got back into bed, but when the door slowly opened, it was her husband.
“Honey, you awake?” he whispers. She looks at him through the doorway and starts to cry.
“Woah, you ok?” he asks, she gets up, and her golden necklace shimmers in the bleeding light through the window. She looked around her bedroom. The dark red paint popped with light. Her bed was in the center of the room, and she almost tripped over it as she walked toward her husband.
“You look so tired, go back to bed,” he says.
“No!” she says with a weak voice she gets up, her legs still feeling like massive stones.
“It has only been a week since we moved to this massive house,” he says, leaning on the side of the door frame. This house was a fantastic deal for as much as this house is should worth. She smiles at him,
“Can't wait to make this our forever home,” she says with a shaky voice.
“Come on, I made pancakes,” he said as he started walking downstairs. She slowly followed behind him, and the massive two-sided staircase felt much harder to step down. The room felt warm, with sunlight coming through the windows, and the brick on the wall made it look like she was in a castle. Or that's what she always thought. When she got down to the cold and shallow kitchen, the fresh smell of pancakes and fresh orange juice greeted her. She smiled weakly and said
“Thanks, honey.” her voice didn't feel real.
“What's wrong?” he said, looking very confused at her, she couldn't tell him it was another nightmare, so she looked around like she didn't hear the question, the light blue paint on the kitchen almost looked grey like someone just repainted it, it felt hollow. The kitchen was huge with an island in the middle, and we never needed to turn on the light in the daytime because the sun always shined and smeared through the windows, but today that didn't feel like it. The dark grey clouds were the only thing that covered the sky today.
She gets up feeling uncomfortable, a sickness in her stomach spreading throughout her. She walks away, feeling fatigued.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“I'm not feeling good,” she says with an almost whisper and shaky voice.
“All you need is some food; it took me a while to make,” her husband says, full of disappointment.
She looks at the pancakes. It almost looks fake, like rubber. She takes a deep breath and walks away into another room. The lights were off, and there were no windows. It was dark and quiet, with one piano in the corner of the room. The only noise she can hear is the silent ringing. Am I going crazy? She asks herself. Yes. A voice whispers back, echoing through her mind.
“Who are you?!” she screamed, and her husband ran through the door.
“What's wrong? Do you need something” he says quickly. She sits there on the ground, rocking back and forth.
“I had another nightmare,” she says to him with a shaky voice, tears almost forming.
“Am I going crazy?” she asks him. Looking up at him, and tears start pouring down her face.
“It's only been one month since you lost the kid,” he says; she slowly curls up into a ball. Hoping she would feel safer. Wishing all the demons, she has just melted away. A kid's voice laughed throughout the house halls, echoing from room to room. She stops curling up from a ball and looks up. She looked around, not just for the kid but also for the husband.
“Honey!” she screamed. Her heart raced, and all the blood from her face vanished. She got up and grabbed the wall to support her breath was shortened, and she felt lighted head darkness flood her mind.
Her mind drifted away like waves on a beach going in and out. Until she woke up, she looked around the dark. She could barely see the piano in the room and barely make out a door. She got up she felt wake. She looked around, realizing her husband never came to help. That son of a b*tch. The thought echoed in her mind.
She walked out of the room into the kitchen. She looked around in the darkness. The house was cold and empty except for the little footsteps running up the stairs.
“Hello!” she screamed, her voice echoing throughout the dark house. He quickly walks over to the light and flips it. There was a click, but the lights would not go on.
“Honey, lights are out!” she said. A giggle echoed throughout the house. She quickly looks over to only see something run out of the kitchen. She quickly runs into the living room to get a fire iron. The footsteps run upstairs, and she quickly follows with the fire iron in hand. She stomps up the stairs into the hallway.
“Whoever is here, I have a weapon,” she yells. Suddenly she hears footsteps in her husband's room she, walks over quickly, pulls the door open, and stabs with her eyes closed. She opens them to find her husband there. She stared at the fire iron, the dark red blood drip from the end. The house was cold and damp, the rain tapping on the other windows in the living room. Her heart was racing because of what had just happened. The only light was the moon barely bleeding through the window and the lightning streaked outside. She runs to her bedroom, hoping this is all a dream. A tall figure stands facing the other way when she opens the door. Looking down at a crib and the piano starts playing an evil sound. The figure vanish only to leave a crib and a note inside. She looks down at the beautiful baby staring back at her and note read—a soul for a soul. She Smiled.
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