I sat lazily on the worn leather couch in the center of the living room. I had changed into a fluffy brown sweatshirt, now that Isaac and I had entered the safety of our tiny home. My gaze flickered to the T.V. The local news was broadcasting. A snowstorm was headed toward us, but nothing completely damaging. I sighed, running a hand through my hair. The outside world was dark, and Isaac had been put to bed. There was nothing for me to do, so I made my way through the darkened hallway into the master bedroom. However, I stopped. Quiet murmuring was sounding from Isaac's room. I turned my head curiously, wondering whom Isaac could be talking to. My curiosity got the better of me, and I pressed my small ear to the closed oak door.

"I know you can hear me." sounded Isaac's weak voice.  

I squinted in confusion, was he talking to me?

"You watch me every night, I can feel you move on my bed." Isaac stated in a numbing tone.

I shook my head in horror, a chill running down my spine. I rarely entered Isaac's room, who was in there?

"Why do you watch me?" Isaac asked.

There was no answer. I stared in fear at the door handle, what action was best taken in this situation. What should I do? I hesitantly opened the door my eyes peeking through the small crack. Isaac was merely sitting on his bed, his knees drawn to his chest, a pale cat stuffy was placed in front of him. I sighed in relief, the tension leaving my body. However, the relief was soon replaced with anger. This child was eight, it was no longer appropriate for him to be conversing with his toys. I gave an annoyed huff and entered the room.

“Isaac!” I yelled in irritation.

Isaac looked up at me in fear and gave a small squeak. He hugged his knees tighter and seemed to shrink into his maroon hoodie. I sniffed in revulsion, taking in the pathetic scene.

"What do you think you are doing?" I asked, my voice as intimidating as I could muster.

Isaac looked up at me with tear filled eyes, his body shaking with small spasms. He began to shake his head frantically. I sighed, remembering what the doctor had told me. I turned to the cat plushy.

"Alright, go ahead and talk with your imaginary friend, I won't stop you." I mumbled. I mentally cursed myself, since when had I mumbled.

Isaac looked up in confusion and distrust. My hand fell to my side limp, and I began to turn out of the room. However, my feet suddenly seemed as if they were stuck to the floor. I gasped and tried to turn. There was something pressing, pushing me down. It was weighing on me, grasping and pulling. The world was frozen, I could not move. My mouth opened in a silent screech, my hands desperately trying to move. There were eyes, watching, looking, spying on me. Darkness was everywhere, where was I?

Yet, as suddenly as it had come, it was gone. I stood in fear, my body trembling, trying to understand what had just occurred. My body turned around slowly, and I glanced at Isaac. He wore a blank expression, his eyes unseeing. I took shallow breaths, staring into the cold expressionless eyes of my child. I grimaced and bolted out of the room. The door slammed behind me, and I fell to the floor in a breathless heap. My hair was frizzled, and my fluffy sweatshirt was the only comforting thing near me. The world was a dark place, night reaching in every corner. I looked up, a headache blooming in my brain. Slowly, I stood up and made my way to the master bedroom. I moved quickly, and made sure to lock the dark oak door behind me.

December 6th, 2018

The cozy blue blankets of the bed wrapped around me in a warm shelter. I gave a sigh of contentment, snuggling deeper into the sheets. The master room was small for an area of its name, but it was a perfect refuge for me. My blonde hair was tangled and spiraling around me, my skin covered in a silky black nightdress. Humming to myself, I began to wrap my arms around me. The sky was still dark, and the digital clock next to me read the numbers 3:20. I groaned, realizing how near the next day was drawing.

Creak.

What was that? I asked myself in confusion. My mind still fuzzy with sleep, I sat up groggily. The door was opened slightly. I squinted in contemplation. The door had been locked, how was it open? I bit my lip and looked at the end of the queen sized bed. My eyes widened, shock coursing through me, numbing my heart.

Isaac's toy, why was it sitting at the end of the bed? The plush was small, it looked almost homemade. The plush greatly resembled a feline. The felt was a worn pink that held a gray tint to it,and the end of the paws were a lighter pink. Its face was slightly disturbing. Its eyes were two black beads, and its mouth was an array of black stitches. The toys head hung limply to the side, and I started to breath heavily, the same pressure from before growing in my chest. I shook my head, trying to clear my vision. The plushy continued to stare, its eyes seemed to hold unintelligible emotion. It was a deep emotion, something primal and restless, the plush seemed to hold more soul than many humans. I berated myself, how could a plush garner emotion, it was fake, unreal. I shakily stood up, shoving the covers off me. The plush fell to the white carpeted floor in a boneless heap. I gulped, never once taking my eyes off the cat. Moving slowly, I made my way out of the room and shut the door loudly behind me. I ran down the hall to Isaac's room, my night dress billowing behind me. I gasped and flung open the door to the boy's room. Looking in, I saw Isaac sitting up straight, his eyes staring straight ahead. The child's head slowly turned, his brown eyes seeming to glimmer viciously in the moonlight.

"He's angry." the small voice sounded.

The words hung eerily in the air, and I stood, eyes wide, in the doorway.

"Who?" to afraid to finish the sentence.

Isaac merely stared, his lips pressed in a thin line. His eyes made his way to my face, it had been the first time since his father had left since Isaac had looked me in the face.

"He is angry." repeated Isaac.

I squinted in frustration, and made my way into the room, shutting, locking, and barricading the door behind me.

January 18th, 2015

4:50 PM

I stared off into space, my feet swinging back and forth lightly. The wind was soft, and the sun was beating down in gentle beams. My fluffy blonde hair was following the beat of the breeze, and I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my worn hoodie. Yawning, I turned to face the open road. My back was facing the apartment building, and the concrete beneath me was beginning to hurt. I sighed, I did not want to return to my so called home. All I truly wanted to do was leave, leaving was all I ever wanted. Yet, what did leaving mean? Did it mean leaving this apartment, this city, the country. Or did it mean something entirely different, did it mean leaving this world? Did it mean leaving this life? A car drove across the road, crushing a twig underneath it. I stared, could I crush as easily as the small piece of wood?

"Hey!" a voiced shouted to the right.

I turned my head, and my eyes met the face of a smiling boy my age. The boy had dark tan skin, the was speckled with darker freckles. His eyes were a warm amber, and seemed to show off his extremely inviting demeanor. The boy had extremely curly black hair, and he bore a bright white cat shirt with black jeans. I cocked my head, the boy's looks were odd, and he seemed unaffected by my stare. The boy continued to smile, his lips curled into a broad grin.

"I know you!" he yelled loudly, "You're in the class next to mine, with Mrs. Elmer!"

I winced at his loud voice.

"Yes." I whispered.

The boy grinned again, suddenly I realized how tall he was. He was nearly as tall as my mother, or Shannon as she would rather me call her.

"My name is Marcos! Marcos Herrera!" The boy, Marcos, shouted.

I stared in confusion, why was he talking with me? Why was he looking at me like I was normal, like I was worth something?

"Well, what's your name?" Marcos asked in curiosity.

I looked up, and my eyes found Marcos'.

"Isaac, Isaac Sandridge."

December 6th, 2018.

7:30 am.

I stood in front of the master bedroom in fear, a knife gripped in my hand. I let out a low breath, and put my left hand on the doorknob. It was cold to touch, and the gold colored covering was beginning to chip off. I began to shake, but cleared my head and proceeded. The stuffy must have been placed their out of spite, Isaac must have thought it would be funny to scare his mother. I grit my teeth in anger. He would never make that mistake again. I opened the door and moved inside, turning on the dim lights. There, on the foot of the bed was the stuffy. I let out the breath of air I had been holding in, it had not moved. It had indeed been a prank. I continued to move forward, my arm still clutching the knife tightly.

I grasped the pink cat in my hand and sprinted out of the room. Moving down the hallway, I found myself in the small kitchen. The kitchen consisted of two sets of wood cabinets, and a granite island centered to the left. A refrigerator was to the very right, and in the center there lay a sink. I moved towards the sink, and looked down into it. The garbage disposal, that is where this disgusting toy would go. I lifted the plush and placed it into the sink, pushing it down into the drain.

The pressure, it was back.

I gasped and clawed at my throat. I couldn't breath, there were hands pulling at me and dragging me to the floor. I screamed, but the only noise that could escape was a terrified squeak. I banged my head on the edge of the sink, praying to anything that could hear to make it stop. Reaching my hand out, I pushed the button to start the garbage disposal in a fit of panic.

There was a terrible grinding sound and then silence. The pressure left suddenly, and I fell to the floor in a sobbing heap. There was blood, gushing down the side of my face, falling in little droplets to the floor. Footsteps sounded behind me, and I turned my head, my vision blurring at the movement. Isaac was standing there, near the island, his eyes narrowed. The boy had a growing bruise on his face, and his lip was split and swollen.

"It won't work." He whispered, his eyes staring deep into my soul.

I let out a pained cry.

"He said he'll find you," Isaac murmured, "No matter what you do to destroy him, he will find you."

My bottom lip began to quiver, I tried to stand up. My body began to shake, and I fell to my knees in front of Isaac. He looked down at me, his eyes blank. I glanced up, the blood dripping into my mouth. I choked and gasped, trying to clear my mouth of the taste.

Isaac merely closed his eyes, and stumbled out of the room, taking his book bag with him. I lay there alone, wondering why this had happened. What had I done to deserve this, what monster wanted me punished. I turned my head back to the sink, my eyes glazing over. I wanted this to end, this had to end. I lifted my hand up and grasped the non-bloodied edge of the sink. Pulled myself up on shaky legs and began to straighten my back. Taking a deep breath, I made my way to the bathroom to clean of the angry red gash running across my forehead. The hallway seemed to grow longer with each pained step, yet finally I had made it.

I shuffled into the room, the world was spinning around me. I let out a breath of air and latched onto the sink. The white tile was cold on my bare feet, and the large mirror was projecting my image. My appearance was one I could usually be proud of, but looking into the glass, I couldn't help but shudder. My soft blonde hair was messy and tangled and there were claw marks running down the side of my throat. My eyes had a red ring around them, and dark bags under them. My skin was pale, paler than ever before, and there was a long gash running across my forehead. I lifted a hand to touch the cut. The deep red blood was still pouring, and the skin was rough around the areas it had been cut. The gash was deep, and I shivered looking at my reflection. I turned on the faucet and dipped my head into the sink. I moved my hands under the warm water gently, massaging the cut and cleaning my hair. The basin of the sink was stained red, with chunky pieces of skin surrounding the drain. I felt tears pour down my face, the pain was too great. Soft sobs clawed their way to my throat, and my face felt hot and swollen. I looked back up, water falling down my face.

My face did not stare back at me in the mirror.

There were eyes with no pupils, looking at me. They were empty white spheres floating in the shadows that had swallowed the room.

I froze, but the lights had flickered on, and the eyes were gone. My lips tightened into a grimace, and I closed my eyes. It must have only been an illusion produced by my disoriented mind. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. The world was silent, and there were no eyes in sight.

I opened the cabinet closest to the floor and pulled out a roll of gauze. It had been a long time since I had used this. I slowly unwrapped the roll, letting the loose weight fall to the floor. Taking the end, I began to gently circle it around my head, being careful not to agitate the wound. Once the cut had been dressed, I made my way back to the living room. I snatched my phone from the granite island and proceeded to call the boss of my work establishment. I worked as a bank accountant, it was far from enjoyable, but it paid the bills. I longed to escape the dreary place in which I lived, Chicago was filled with people, yet it never felt more lonely. I had long since dreamed to live in Norway. It was somewhat obscure of a place to choose to live, but it held a deep meaning to me. My mother left me and my father when I was but a child, yet the year before, she had taken us to Norway. Perhaps, she was waiting for me there. I gave a sad sigh and moved slowly to the back door near the kitchen that led to the porch. I needed to get out of this house, I needed to leave. Opening the door, I made my way outside and leaned in the railing of the old wood porch. It was just a about ten feet off the ground, and the dark green grass could be seen through the wooden bars. I closed my eyes and let breeze gently rock me and soothe my unease. I felt the tension slowly leave my body, and my shoulders relaxed. I opened my eyes and stared up into the grey sky. The cloud were covering the sun which was attempting to rise. Perilous thoughts began to plague me. Was it safe inside my own home, could I stay one more day in these walls. What was wrong with Isaac, what kind of monster was he communicating with? What if he was the monster? I turned towards the back door, should I enter my own home, or was I doomed? I gulped, and made a decision. I opened the door and stepped inside.

December 6th, 2018

1:20 pm

The house was cold, I noted. Not cold in the sense that it was freezing, but a cold feeling. It was like the feeling one would get when they were anticipating something. Yet, it wasn't an excited anticipation, it was a ghastly urgency that seeped through the walls. The air was stagnant and pressing, as if the area was slowly closing in. I stood near the back door, wondering if this feeling was a figment of my imagination. I gave a shuddering breath and moved slowly into the living room. Moving into the carpeted area, I sat on the worn in couch near the back. The couch was a cheap tan felt the was patchy and ragged. I turned my head to the TV to my right. It was a small TV, that was pitch black with a smooth surface. My hand lightly touched the remote, I could feel the cool surface of the buttons. The remote suddenly seemed to spark. I screeched, my mouth closed quickly. The sparks were gone, and the air was silent once again. My head was making me see things, I reassured myself. My hand grasped the remote, and I pressed the power button. The TV turned on to static. It was numbing, loud static. It kept crackling, crackling and moving across the screen.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

The TV focused back into view and the News program turned on. My head fell back into the soft pillows of the couch, my eyes shut tight. I listened to the news anchor drone on, his low voice soothing the splitting headache blooming in me. I laid there for a while, relaxing and attempting to forget. Yet, the events would not leave, my brain was scattered. Empty nothings fluttered across my mind, leaving whispers and echoes of broken thoughts.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

At some point the TV had fallen back into static, leaving the world devoid of sound, besides the noisy chatter of the TV. I opened my eyes, the world blurring before coming into view. It was dark, but I knew it was not night. The world had been swallowed, yes swallowed. It had been swallowed by shadows, shadows of what, I did not know. Was it the clouds? Perhaps, but my mind thought otherwise. Their were creeping tendrils of dark at the corner of my vision.

Crack.

Crack.

Cra-

The TV turned off abruptly. All was silent in the world. There was nothing, nothing and the soft breathing I released. Had it ever been this silent? I pondered this thought, thinking it over in my head. Silence was the absence of noise, but was that truly all it meant? Silence meant many things to me, it meant the time my mother had left, where my father and I had sat in the living room, waiting. It meant the moments where Isaac and I were driving in the car, God knows there were never words to share between us. It meant the moments where I realized I was alone, and alone is all I ever would be.

Crack.

the TV turned on once again.

December 6th, 2018

4:30 pm

Isaac came home from school, a note from his teacher clutched in his hands. I let the note fall to the bottom of the garbage bin.

The events that had transpired earlier were pushed to the back of my mind, and I quietly prepared dinner for myself. Isaac had retreated to his room, his book bag left sitting on the counter. I sighed and stirred the pasta I was cooking, the smell was tantalizing, and I realized I hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. I grumbled to myself and left the noodles to boil as I sat on the deck. Reaching the back door, I looked outside and examined my surroundings. There were small flecks of snow falling to the ground and catching on the rooftops of her neighbors homes. The snowflakes weren't sticking, and they seemed to resemble rain more closely than the fluffy specks of snow. Winter had always been my favorite season, as I found the cold breeze and the frozen sights to be relaxing. Yet, I had been feeling down lately, as if the world was weighing on my shoulders. It was shocking to find myself in such a mood. However, I was not to blame, it was Isaac. Isaac and his episodes. His false acts of depressive mood swings never ceased to make me ill. He was to blame for my emotions.

As I opened the door, I moved to the railing of the porch. Looking down at the grass, I realized the snow had not stuck to the ground, but had rather dampened it. I pressed my lips into a straight line, my eyes squinting.

The thoughts inside my head were scrambling, shifting and moving. I couldn't grasp a solid speculation, and my brain seemed to numb.

The thoughts began to pour in.

Was Isaac to blame? Was I alone? Was the plushy truly gone? Had I failed as a parent? Was my son a failure himself?

Was I hurting him? Am I to blame? What is this pressure? Is he the spawn of Satan himself? What was I to do?

Somethings watching me.

February 13th, 2015

5:17 PM

I stared off into the distance, I was once again at the curb of my apartment building, the wind beating down on me. My hair was tucked into the hood of my sweatshirt, and I stared down at my beaten grey sneakers. I was waiting, for what I didn't know. Yet, I waited nonetheless. Suddenly, as if the world had known my thoughts, light footsteps sounded to my right.

"Isaac!" a young voice shouted in excitement.

Marcos, he was here. I smiled, Marcos was safe, he was trustworthy. We had become fast friends, despite my reservations. In fact, he was the first friend I had ever had. He was the only person who seemed to care about me. Marcos came running over, still wearing his ridiculous cat shirt. His curly hair was flopping wildly in the wind, and his eyes were bright and joyful.

"Do you want to come play at my apartment?" He asked happily.

I stared and my smile seemed to vanish. Shannon had told me I was never to leave the apartment with school as my only exception. I frowned and closed my eyes. I knew the consequences of going against her. Yet, I want to be with Marcos, I want to leave. Should I risk punishment? I looked up and met Marcos' confused stare. I gave him a small smile and opened my mouth.

"I'd love to." I whispered, my eyes shining.

Marcos' grinned wildly, he grasped my hand and pulled me up.

"Then come with me!" He laughed as he began to pull me in the direction of which he came.

I watched as we ran past the curb, and my apartment building grew smaller in the distance. I turned my head back to Marcos and tried to clear my thoughts. Perhaps Shannon wouldn't notice.

It’s not like she ever noticed me before.

December 7th, 2018

7:30 am

My thoughts were restless  as I lay on the couch in the living room. I refused to return to my room, nor would I ever return. Fluffy brown blankets covered me, yet I still felt chilled to the bone. The cold I felt was constant now, an ever present itch underneath my skin. No matter how much I attempted to warm myself, it was there. Shivers racked my body, where was this cold coming from? I felt the cold in my heart, it was building and growing. Almost as if it were vines growing from a hole in my soul. I sat up abruptly, I could no longer stand the cold. I launched myself off the couch, the blankets falling into a discarded heap on the floor. I shuffled into the kitchen and desperately ripped open the door to the right hand cabinet. The oak board was torn off its hinges and fell to the ground with a clash. I shoved my hands into the space and grasped the wick of a candle. A box of matches was also held in my hands.

Sitting on the floor I shakily lit the candle, the burning flame glowing bright in the darkness of the early morning. I stared, my pale face illuminated by the fire. Cold sweat was breaking on my skin, my lips were chapped and my throat dry. I needed to be warm, I had to be warm.

I stuck my face into the burning flame and let it heat my skin. The flame was too small, it was never enough. I threw the candle to the floor, its flame going out as it flew through the air. I sat on the floor, sobbing and gasping. Suddenly, I had an idea. The stove, it was to my right.  I turned my head and glanced at the top of the machine. Boiled water, I must boil water. I stood up and took a leap towards the white stove. My feet hit the hardwood floor beneath me with a slap. Grasping the edge of the stove, I bent down and collected a pot from the drawer beneath. I threw myself towards the sink and hastily filled the pot with scalding water. The heat caressed my hands and I moaned in momentary content. However, the heat was soon gone. It was not enough, why wasn't it enough? I moved back to the stove and placed it on the stove top. I quickly turned the dial that should heat the pot to high. I waited, I waited most patiently. The water was beginning to bubble, heat flowing from the pot in waves. I grinned a manic smile. Heat, I needed heat. Finally, the water had reached its peak. I grasped the pot with intense desperation, not feeling how the metal burnt my skin. I could not smell the burning flesh, all I could feel was the cold. I laughed and poured the water over my head. It scalded my skin and I could feel the blisters the liquid left. I did not care, the cold was gone, it was gone. I lay on the floor in a sobbing heap, my skin red and angry. Blood was seeping through the holes left in my body, and puddles of blood, skin, and water surrounded me. Laughing, I cradled my burnt hands towards me and moved my knees to my chest. Rocking back and forth, I felt numb. I did not feel the pain, I did not care for the slow rivers of thick red blood that fell down my face in waves.

I was warm, the cold was gone.

I was warm.

December 7th, 2018

11:45  AM

I sat in a bundled heap on the carpeted floor of the living room. I have given up on my job. It is no longer useful, not when the cold kept returning. I lifted my head, my skin was scarred and burnt. What had happened to me? I looked to the floor and closed my eyes. Isaac was locked in his room. He could not return to school until the cold was gone, until I was warm. I opened my eyes. Was Isaac the cause of this? I gasped and stood up. Groaning, I immediately regretted my quick movement as the world spun before me. Shaking my head, I moved slowly down the hall. My skin was rough and itchy, I could feel it crack with every movement. I looked to my feet and stopped, what did I look like now? Before entering Isaac's room, I turned left into bathroom and screamed when I saw myself. I was blistering, my skin rising and uneven. There was dry blood caked on my face. Oh my face, my once dazzling face. It looked as if I were a monster, a cliche figment of a horror movie. My previously soft hair was dry and frizzy and looked as if it were a nest for birds. My rich brown eyes were surrounded by a circle of red, and bags showed underneath them. I began to tear up, I was hideous. I stood there for a long time, reflecting over my altered appearance. The  wood framed mirror reflected a horrendous creature plagued with disfigurement, not me. I felt a salty tear run down my cheeks and sting my wounds. What use was I without my beauty? I grit my teeth, this was all Isaac's fault. He had cursed me, planning to ruin my life from the moment he had come into his miserable existence. I looked up and faced my reflection, if I were to appear as a monster, then I would act as one as well. I stormed out of the bathroom, focusing on the room across from it.  I gave a yell and slammed open Isaac's door.

"Isaac!" I screeched, my voice gravelly and repulsive.

Isaac was sitting in the corner of his small, dark room, his knees drawn to his chest. The boy was muttering, his eyes frantic and searching. I froze, what was going on? Turning my head, I felt a cold feeling settle at the bottom of my stomach. There, on his raggedy old mattress, was the plush cat.

My eyes widened, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. There, in all its horrific glory, was the pink felt monstrosity. Its fur was undamaged, despite having been thrown into the garbage disposal. The black bead eyes poorly stitched to its round face seemed to stare at me. It's dark thread smile seemed somehow more disturbing than its original appearance. The only noticeable change, was the crick in its long pink tail. I fell back and hit the gray painted wall, the world was spinning. How had this plushy survived the blades of the disposal. Baring my teeth, I rushed into the room and gripped the worn arm of the cat. My knee banged into the stained mattress, creating a thump. I ripped the cat from its place on the bare cushion and turned around.

Isaac was standing in the doorway, tears streaming down his face.  

"Don't." Was all the boy could manage to say.

Isaac's voice was raspy, more so than mine. My eyes drifted to the bruising marks around his neck, and I sniffed in disdain. The boy had his weight shifted to his left side, and his right arm was cradling his other side. Isaac was a terrible sight to behold, wounded and sobbing. I narrowed my eyes.

"Move out of the way." I said in a dangerous tone.

Isaac continued to sob, moving his good arm to the right of the door frame. His body language conveyed he would not let me leave.

However, he did not have a choice.

Still grasping the pink cat, I moved forward purposefully and shoved Isaac to the floor. Isaac cried out in pain, his injured side hitting the hard wood on the ground.

Once again, the pressure had returned. I screamed in agony, my ears ringing. The noise was everywhere, closing in and attacking me. The plush had fallen to the floor, as had I. My knees hit the ground with a crash, my body slamming with force against the floor. I screamed, clawing at my face, leaving fresh trails of blood pouring down in rivers. Skin peeled and fell to the floor, creating a gory sight. The pressure kept pushing, building in every fiber of my being. My insides were burning, feeling as if they were melting. My throat was raw, yet my mouth was still open in a mute screech. The world was darkening, my eyes glazing over as the pain became to great.

I heard Isaac scream, and suddenly, it was over.

The plush was sitting up when my eyes came into focus. Its face staring up into my eyes. I looked down and saw the puddles of flesh and blood surrounding me. Isaac was sobbing to my left, his voice small and barely a whisper. My body was numb, and I spit blood out onto the floor. I closed my eyes, attempting to clear my foggy vision. A soft rush of air startled me. I wrenched open my eyes, staring in fear at the sight before me. The plush was standing, its limp head lolled to the side. I stood up quickly, but soon my surroundings shattered. Everything was spinning, the images before me distorted and unreal. I felt my body fall forward, gravity losing its hold on me. My face planted into the wood, and the world faded to nothing.  

December 8th, 2018

1:00 pm

When I came to, the world was bright. Sun seeped through the open door way. I groaned, my face sticking to the wood floor. The floor had been stained a disgusting shade of red, and the pale flakes of skin near my face entered my sight. I squinted in pain, moving my hand to feel the exposed raw skin on my body. Pieces of flesh were hanging off my face, and dried blood caked my features. I groaned and slowly tried to push myself up, my body shaking slightly. I gasped as my back straightened out, a click noise sounded as it popped into place. My arms were weak, and I could hardly feel anything. I shakily shifted once again to stand on my feet. I fell to the side, but hastily steadied myself. I scrunched my nose, but immediately regretted this as I felt my burned skin crack with the movement. It was quite repulsive, I felt each movement as rough skin rubbed against smooth. I examined my surroundings, my brain feeling as if it were stuffed with cotton. I was in Isaac's room, why was I here again?

The memories began to flood in. I grasped my head and let out a screech, feeling fear pour through me. The plushy was back, dear god it was back. Isaac had betrayed me, he had disobeyed and gone against me in a violent mutiny. I grit my teeth and felt anger replace fear.

I let out a breath and calmed myself. I looked around the room and found that there was no one there. The mattress was empty, and the plushy was nowhere in sight. I gave a huff of frustration, my eyes narrowed slightly. I turned back to face the open door and slowly moved ahead. Each step was painful, as if I were walking on needles. Each stabbing pain grew as it pushed deeper, and deeper into my skin. I had finally made it out of the room, my body relying on the wall for support. I Looked ahead at the bathroom across the hallway. I dare not examine my looks, in fear of the monstrosity that awaited me. I moved quietly down the hallway, the work devoid of sound, with the exception of my cracking skin. I made my way to the living room, and let out a pent up breath of air when I found it empty.

Crack.

I felt a spasm take through my body as I stared in fear and shock at the TV. It had turned on suddenly, a static screen showing. My eyes were wide and my mouth agape as I watched the static fizz and crackle. The TV began to quickly turn through channels.

The news channel came first, a meteorologist quickly appearing on the screen. It said one word before switching to another channel.

"Look-" the sentence broke off.

Then came a reality TV show.

"Behind-" the voice of a young actor sounded.

"You." Came the whisper of a children's cartoon.

The TV turned off, and I slowly turned around. I could feel swear beginning to break on my skin, and tears welled up in my eyes.

I glanced at the area behind me, and saw nothing but empty space.

All was silent, and I let out a hysterical giggle.

Something echoed my giggle, and I let out a scream of terror. I felt a weight land on top of me, and my arm snapped up, desperately clawing at the thing clutched to my head. I spun in circles, throwing my head back in forth in an inane attempt to free myself. I continued to screech in horror, my body slamming into tables and the island. I stumbled back into the living room, still clawing and grabbing. My body fell, and I crashed into the window at the far side of the small living room. The TV was to my left, it had switched back to static, the the crackly noise met evenly with screams. I finally tore the weight from the top of my head and threw it across the room.

I stared in horror at the plush cat that lay before me. My lips quivered at the sight, and I backed up in fear.

The plush cats dirty pink face cracked quickly to stare at me. I gave a screech and ran to the right to the stairs leading to the front door, my closest escape. I hear more ghastly giggles as I sprint down the stairs. I reach the door and my hands grasp the handle, I realize the door is locked.

I scream and curse, tears streaming down my face as I desperately try to unlock the worn white front door. My efforts freeze as I feel a gust of wind near my feet.

My eyes wander down, and I meet the stare of two soulless black bead eyes. I scream once again and launch my foot out, the impact catching the plushy and making it fly through the air. It falls at the top of the short staircase in a boneless heap.

Short breaths escape me and I feel some relief as the tension leaves my body. I slowly walk towards the top of the staircase and kick the plushy once again, this time leaving it traveling down the hallway to the right. I stare at it, in silent hesitation as I decide whether or not to act. I finally concede that the attack has ceased and back up, my eyes never leaving the plush. I hear scuffling to my right in the kitchen. I freeze once again and bite my lip. I peek around the corner of the small wall separating the kitchen from the living room and gasp at the sight before me.

Isaac's tiny hand are grasped at the corner of the door to the bottom oak cabinet. His pale face and large brown eyes staring at me through crack he had made. I continued to stare, my eyes watering slightly. I shook my head and moved towards him.

Looking down, I turned once again and opened the small cutlery drawer. I pulled out a large kitchen knife and looked back at Isaac. He gasped and quickly shut the door.

I gave a small grin and moved forwards.

January 1st, 2017

12:45 PM

It seems I was always in this position. Waiting alone at the sidewalk. There were seldom any cars driving today. The world was silent, the earth devoid and empty. But, it has never been full to me, I've never seen a world full of life and happiness. I have lived through the emptiness all my life. My fluffy, pale blonde hair shuffled in the cold wind. I bore a large sweatshirt, that was patchy and filled with holes. It didn't hide my dangerously petite figure, it highlighted it with the amount of loose fabric. My feet we bare and dirty, my shoes had been destroyed. I looked like a lost, homeless, vagabond.

Vagabond, it was a word I learned yesterday.

A vagabond was a wanderer, someone with no home.

I thought for a bit, and conceded I'd quite prefer to be a vagabond than what I am now. I am a monster, a mistake. Those were the words carved in my skin, and thus, those were the words I would bear. My eyes began to water. My body was filled with pain, bruises littered my skin and I was hungry, oh so hungry. I want it to end I thought. I want the pain to leave. I wiped my eyes furiously and desperately tried to choke back the sobs. It was of no use. The tears flowed, and ugly sobs tore up my throats and were released into the air. The cold air sent out visible clouds of white at each shuddering breath, and the salty tears were the only thing that warmed my cold face. I cried, I wanted a mother.

I didn't want Shannon, with her cold touch and painful hands. I wanted Marcos' mother, a gentle woman who cared. Someone who made cookies, read me books, and hugged me. I wanted a hug, I wanted someone who didn't give a grunt of disgust at my mere presence. Someone who loved me, that's all I wanted. I wanted Marcos with his stupid smile and his curly hair and cheerful demeanor. I just wanted someone, anyone.

"Isaac?" A soft voice called.

I shut my mouth quickly, attempting to shut off the sobs. I gripped the collar of my sweatshirt and covered my face in a quick attempt to keep Marcos from seeing my moment of weakness. Shuddering breaths tore their way up my throat and I closed my eyes tight, wishing the world away.

Small, gentle hands gripped the edge of my sweatshirt and eased my cold hands down. I opened my eyes and stared into the warm face of Marcos.

He had a gentle smile on his face, and his warm amber eyes were shining with emotion. I kept my eyes trained on his freckled face, his curly hair gently flapping in the wind. Unshed tears built up in my eyes, and I gave a spasm as I tried to choke down the sobs. Marcos gave a distressed noise, his hand moving up to touch my face. I knew he was examining my bruises, they littered my face. Caked blood was splattered around my face, leaving me a gruesome sight to behold. Marcos shuttered, and tears began to build in his eyes. He gave a shuddering breath and spoke.

"Oh Isaac, what happened?" Marcos said in a whisper.

I broke down, spilling all my secrets to the boy in front of me. I told him of violent threats, and painful fists. I spoke of the anger living within my household, and the fear I felt every day. I cried and told him I wanted it to end, I wanted it to be over. He sat there, listening, letting me cry and unbottle my emotions. I hadn't cried since Shannon drove dad away, since my world had fallen apart.

Finally, when my river of tears had dried, leaving me exhausted and drained. Marcos was silent for a moment, then he gripped me tightly and looked me right in the eyes. His body was shaking, whether it was the cold, or anger. I assumed it was his torrent of emotions, looking at the expression on his face. Marcos' eyes were narrowed in a ferocious glare.

"Isaac, I promise to help you." Marcos said with determination.

I stared, tears threatening to pour again.

"I promise." He gasped quietly, tears quietly dripping down his face.

With that, Marcos ripped off his fluffy, pale blue coat and bundled me in it. I sniffed and buried myself into the coat, watching as Marcos stood up shakily. He gave me a gentle look and bent down and helped me to my feet.

"Lean on me, let's get you somewhere warm." He said with a giggle, his voice thick with emotion.

Despite the situation, I smiled and nodded.

I prayed that maybe, this would be the start of something better.

December 9th, 2018

4:00 am

I grinned maniacally as I cradled the kitchen knife in my hands. Isaac was locked in his room, the plushy needed him, for what I did not know. However, I knew they were connected. Yes, the plushy and Isaac depended on one another. If the I hurt Isaac the plushy would retaliate, and Isaac would not let me take the plushy. I grinned even broader as I stared at the end of the hallway. The plushy was still laying there, lifeless. Which also means, if I threaten Isaac, the plush will have no choice but to cease its fruitless attacks. I laughed and pulled a box of matches from the pocket in my gray hoodie. My long blonde hair was frizzy and ruined, it dangled in my face as I looked down at the box. I looked up and smiled at the plushy.

"Stop whatever you're doing you useless heap of garbage." I said in a raspy voice.

Using my left hand, the knife still clutched in my grasp, I took a match and dragged it against the box. A small flame lit. I lifted the match and moved it towards Isaac's wood door.

"I will not hesitate, to destroy Isaac." I said in a huff.

The plushy simply laid there, lifeless. I felt frustration growing in me.

"Move you possessed lump of fabric!" I screamed.

The plush did nothing.

I yelled in anger and threw the match to the floor, I used my bare foot to stomp it out, the flame burning into the sole of my heel. I grimaced and growled as I clutched the knife tighter. I slid to the floor in a messy heap, my hands falling to my sides.  I looked at my left hand and frowned softly. It was useless, everything my useless. I let my grip on the knife fall and I moved my hands to caress my face. My life was in shambles, I had lost everything. I scrunched my face up and began to sob. Tears streamed down my face and my body was wracked with sobs.

I felt a breeze beside me.

I quickly looked up, my eyes wide.

The plushy was standing beside me, and in its limp grasp, it held the knife. Time seemed to freeze, the air left my lungs. The cat stood there, one of its bead eyes had popped out, leaving exposed stuffing and a infinitely more distressing face. My mouth opened in a silent shriek, my dry lips cracking with the movement.

The plush's face seemed to move and expand. It's smile was growing, widening. It had a stitched black smile with black goo seeming to pour from the seems. I stood up with a fierce quickness and sprinted down the hallway. I turned left and ran to the back door leading to the porch. My hands were shaking as I slid the glass door to the side and clambered out into the open air. My foot caught on the small ledge of the doorframe. I tripped and fell on my face, the old wood boards cracking with the impact. I lifted my head as I felt a weight land on my back. A sharp pain began to slowly edge from my shoulder to my back. I screamed and stood up quickly, the blade the was into my back sticking in the flesh. The plushy was giggling behind me, I felt its weight pushing down on the blade. I yelled and moved my arms back, grabbing the plush and yanking it off. The cat took the knife with it, the blade clattering to the floor as it landed on the porch. The plush was once again lifeless.

I quickly ran inside and shut and locked the door behind me. I took the handle to the blinds and slid them closed, trying to shut off the plushy from the house. I stood there in silence, my wounds numb. The blood was dripping onto the wood floor, leaving splatters of dark liquid surrounding me. I let out a gasp of air, and fell to my knees. I needed to do something, I thought to myself. I looked back to the living room, and a thought entered my head.

I grinned, my teeth showing broadly.

I stood up shakily, my legs nearly collapsing.

I knew what I had to do.

December 9th, 2018

3:00 PM

I hummed happily to myself and moved down the hallways towards Isaac's room. Blood was covering me, and my skin still cracked with each movement. I grinned happily and knocked on Isaac's door.

"Oh Isaac!" I said, my voice raspy, yet conveying a false cheerfulness.

I slipped the golden key into the doorknob and opened the door.

Isaac was curled in on himself in a ball on the floor. His knees were drawn to his chest as he laid  in silence. I smiled and moved forward into the room. The dirty wood floor was stained with blood and filth. Isaac's room was completely empty, the mattress long gone. As I moved forward Isaac remained silent, but I could see the quiet shiver coursing through his body. He had been stripped of all clothing besides a large, raggedy white T-Shirt, and a pair of torn gray shorts. My feet planted in front of Isaac's head, making the boy flinch at the soft sound.

I gave a cough, and bent down to his level.

Stretching out a hand I gently ruffled Isaac's pale blonde hair. I felt the boy stiffen beneath me, and his body began to uncurl. His eyes were revealed as he lifted his arms away from his face. The muddy brown pools that were his eyes were filled with distrust. I gave him a smile, and lifted his face with my finger.

"How would you like to get out of here?" I asked in a jovial tone.

Isaac stared at me with wide eyes, his mouth agape. There was a long moment of silence, before he slowly nodded his head in confusion. I smiled and gave a slight giggle.

"Well then, let's go to the park!" I said happily.

Without a moment's hesitation, I picked up Isaac's fragile body. I could feel his ribs and bones poking through his skin as I jostled him around. I moved through the house, leaving the hallway and turning left to the staircase leading to the front door. I fiddled with the doorknob, it was now unlocked, and opened the door. I moved out into the driveway, where a blue van sat. I smiled and clicked a button on the car keys hidden in the pocket of my jacket.

I slid open the dark blue door and place Isaac in one of the back seats. I buckled as he continued to stare at the ground. I took note of the the large black bag near the back of the van. Backing up, I closed the door and moved to the driver's seat. I clicked the door handle and sat inside, preparing for the drive. Isaac was silent as he had always been, and my smile never left my face. I could not stop grinning. It was as if happiness seems to exude from me, my wounds were numb, and my body cold. I could feel nothing but happiness, the joy was growing. I knew was was to come, I knew what was going to take place in only a matter hours, perhaps minutes.

I needed to do this.

December 9th, 2018

4:05 PM

I turned right on the road leading out of my subdivision. Clouds covered the sky, leaving the sun nothing but a distant memory. A soft drizzle of rain sprinkled across the world, leaving splatters of clear liquid on the windows of my car. It was a dreary sight, yet my eyes were wide and glowing. I felt a dread settle in my stomach, but I pushed the feeling away. This was necessary, I needed to do this. I gave a hum and turned up the radio. The quiet singing voice of Frank Sinatra was pouring out, leaving the once stagnant car full of life. I gave a shuddering breath, and my hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. This was needed, it was necessary.

I felt a weight on my shoulders. It was not the pressure from before, but something entirely different. It was a warm weight, something the oozed and covered my entire being. Was this guilt? I had few regrets, for why would I need to dwell on past events? Yet, I felt as though I would regret this, as if it would carve into my body for the rest of eternity. I felt as though I would be damned for this, and my body would burn, my soul lost.

I shook my head, this was no time for such thoughts. I needed to do this, this needed to be over. With my silent resign, I increased the speed of the car.

The song was over, leaving nothing but an empty void between Isaac and I. I used the mirror to glance back at his small figure, and was shocked to find him asleep. His eyes were closed gently, and the bags underneath them were barely visible. However, I knew they were there, they had existed with him for a long time. Bruises and cuts littered his skin, making him look ghostly. In fact, he looked dead, as though all the life had been sucked from him. I knew this, Isaac was a nothing but a hollow shell of his former self. He breathed, but he did not live. I began to dwell on this realization, I grinned maliciously.

He was nothing, this would not end in my defeat. Isaac was nothing.

I heard a soft sneeze behind me, and turned my gaze to look at Isaac. He buried his head in his shirt quickly and tried to hide from my gaze.

I smiled once again, for the sneeze did not matter.

I needed to do this, this was necessary.

I needed to do this.

This was necessary.

It had to end like this.

January 10th, 2017

12:30 PM.

I sat on my knees, the grass sprouting from underneath my weight. there was no wind today, only cold and clouds. My eyes stared blankly ahead, I could see nothing, nothing but the stone ahead of me. It was a beautiful creation, a shiny coating covering the outside. It was a dark gray, with little flecks of whiter stone in it. There were little purple flowers around the base, and large wreaths of roses thrown around the top. The stone was face the west side of a field, it was a beautiful view. I decided Marcos' would have liked it here. I felt a lump grow in my throat. It was painful to look at the delicate carved lettering on the rock, each word was another stab to my beaten heart.

Marcos William Herrera.

Beloved Son, Brother, and Friend.

April 20th - 2010

January 5th - 2017

He was gone, I wouldn't see him ever again. I was alone in this world. Marcos had promised he'd be there for me, now he was gone. I shock my head. How could I even think of blaming him? Marcos was the only human in this planet worthwhile. He was the only person to ever look at me as if I were equal.

I wasn't equal, I don't deserve to be looked at that way. Shannon was right, she was always right.

I sat there in the grass, sobbing to myself, letting the world fade away.

Shivering I opened my eyes. My head turned to the gray sky, and I let out a scream of agony.

"Why did it have to be you!" I scream, tears blinding my vision.

There was no answer.

"I would have taken your place, kill me instead!" I continued to sob, my eyes full of watery tears.

Again, there was no answer.

I stared at the sky, my lips quivering and eyes wide. I shivered, attempting to keep my cries contained. I didn't want to be alone again, I wanted Marcos.

"Just come back, please come back..." I whispered to myself, my voice dry and raspy.

A drop of rain fell on my nose, leaving a small audible splat sound in its wake.

"Please..." I said one last time.

December 7th, 2018

11:45 PM

I stared in shock and alarm at the plush before me. Shannon lay unresponsive on the floor, blood and skin surrounding her. The air was stiff, and each breath hurt my body. The toy used to be my favorite. It had been a gift from Marcos, he had made it himself. He was proud of the creation, so in return, I named it Marc. The cat was alive, somehow it was moving. It never hurt me, not like it hurt Shannon. Why was it here, did it want to terrorize us? Did the toy want to destroy our lives?

The cat turned its head, making me flinch and crawl backwards. The movement made me cry out in pain, my bruised and shattered ribs stabbing into my sides.

The pale pink cat's eyes seemed to glimmer. A raggedy paw stretched out slowly, its body moving towards me.

I stared at the cat in confusion, why was it being so cautious?

The cat and I were frozen in place for a moment, before the disturbing toy knelt beside Shannon's head. It stuck its pale pink paw into the pool of blood beside her, the sticky liquid coating the fabric.

I stared in disgust at the sight before me. The revolting scent burned my nostrils and made me gag. My stomach began to turn and I quickly covered my mouth. I felt stinging bile rise in my throat, I swallowed it down with a shiver.

The cat put its paw to the ground, creating something with graceful loops. I stared in alarm at the creature from my place in the corner, my eyes wide.

The plush finished and gesture wildly to the shapes decorating the wood floor, I stared in confusion. Did the thing want me to examine his work? I felt the vomit rising in my throat again as a cold dread settled in my stomach. That was my mother's blood, the blood of another human besides me. I was watching someone bleed out before me in a mangled heap. I began to sob, this was to much. I felt the tears stream down my face and my vision began to blur with the force.

I heard movement and felt a slight breeze. A soft paw was placed on my knee, glimmering eyes staring into my soul. I looked down at the cat, my tears ending. It seemed to hold a deep emotion, was that sadness I saw in its face? With its blood stained paw, it began to signal back to the shapes on the floor. I continued to stare in hesitation. Looking back at the cats limp head, I made a choice.

I pushed my weak body up from the floor, my feet slipping nearly sending me falling to the ground. The plush moved to my side, a steady paw landed on my ankle. I gave the cat a cautious smile, before moving forward.

I looked down at the shapes, the figures not fully registering with me.

My vision swam into focus, and my jaw dropped, tears once again forming.

On the floor, there were three simple words.

I   A M  M A R C O S

I looked back at the plush, its head was lolling limply to the sides, but its bead eyes seemed trained on me.

"Marcos?" I asked in a small voice, disbelief evident in my tone.

The cat waved its paw, as if in confirmation. I stood there for a moment, my body frozen.

Marcos was here, he wasn't gone. I nearly smiled, my heart filling with a joy I hadn't felt in a long time. I wanted to run to the cat, to hug it and say I missed you. Yet, a wave of sadness crashed down on me. Marcos was here, but he wasn't alive. He was stuck here, he hadn't moved on. I looked at the plush, the thing was raggedy and old, with blood staining each crevice. How could Marco sustain such a host body. I frowned, tears forming in my eyes. Marcos was here, and he was hurting Shannon. Marcos would have died before he hurt anyone. This wasn't truly the Marcos I knew. My mind was set, I knew what I had to say.

"You can't be here." I said sadly.

Marcos' host body froze, its paws stuck in midair. I took a deep breath, and continued.

"Move on Marcos, you've done everything you can." My eyes were watering.

"Just leave!" I screamed, my voice hoarse.

Marcos stood their for another moment, the plush body still frozen. Before the top half of the toy went limp, and it moved slowly out of the room.

My gaze followed it, tears flowing freely down my face.

Marcos could not stay here.

December 9th, 2018

4:45 PM

I parked the car in an empty lot near the back of the park. There was but one couple meandering around the area, which made this location perfect. The park was a barren one, with a single slide, swing set, and a few sets of climbing bars. The equipment was placed on a lot of sand, it was quite revolting. Near the end of the park, there was a long stretch of forested area. I felt a nervous tingling in my heart, as if a cloud of butterflies were fluttering and ramming into the sides of my body. I had a sudden realization, and looked down at myself in disgust. I couldn't walk out in public like this.

It would be too suspicious.

I moved to the back of the car, my hands grabbing hold of the handle to open the trunk. I wrenched open the door and peered inside. I smiled to myself, it appears I had planned ahead. My fluffy light blue winter coat was still at the bottom of the trunk, along with a large, worn, gray hoodie. I gripped the coats and flung them over my shoulder, before turning to the very back of the trunk. There poking out was a large black bag. My smile faltered a bit, before returning full force. I gripped the felt handle of the bag, a metallic sound clicked.

I moved to the passenger side of the van, thankful the light drizzle of rain had ended. My hand gripped the damp handle to the sliding door and I gave a tug. The door slid open, revealing the somewhat limp looking figure of Isaac. His upper body was hunched over, his dirty, fluffy pale blonde hair falling into his face. There were many bruises adorning him, and he looked weak and feeble. I reached my hands forward into the car and unbuckled his seatbelt. The boy looked up weakly, his brown eyes meeting mine. There was a red ring around his the whites of his eyes, seeming as if he had been crying. The boy's eyes were empty, no emotions seeping through. There was an unnerving feeling running down my spine, and I shook my head, refusing to waste another second. I gripped Isaac's light body and pulled him towards me. I set him on the dark pavement, he swayed slightly before steadying himself. I gripped the large hoody and shoved it roughly over his head. Isaac fell to the floor at the force of the impact, his head poking through the clothing meekly. I sighed and put my own coat on. The fabric felt rough against my charred skin, reopening blisters and scabs. I grit my teeth, the stabbing pain of the knife wound was almost unbearable, but I had to continue.

I pulled Isaac off the pavement, grabbing his hand and leading him towards the north side of the park near the forest. We trudged through the sandy plot of land that held the swing set, and I glanced back at the boy. Isaac was eyeing the swings, his normally devoid face lit with hopefulness. I felt my chest constrict for a moment, then paused my walking. I sighed and turned around.

"Go ahead and play on the swings Isaac." I said in a raspy voice.

Isaac stared at me in bewilderment and wonder, his face glowing. He stood there hesitantly for a moment, before look at the swings and back to me.

I gave him a small smile, "Go on!" I said cheerfully.

Isaac stood for another moment, before limping over to the swings. Isaac looked minuscule against the metal play mechanic, his size dwarfed by the height of the set. He struggled somewhat to get on the lowest swing, before he landed perfectly in the center. Isaac kicked his feet back and forth slowly, the swing moved slightly. I stood there watching the child have a moment of fun.

I suppose it was the least I could do for him.

Isaac swang on the swing for 30 minutes, before I began to grow restless.

"Isaac!" I called.

Isaac turned his head, and saw my gesturing hands. He frowned in silent disappointment, before getting off the swing slowly. He slipped off the seat, his body swaying once again as he hit the ground. He walked back over to me, his face blank once again. I gripped his hand and pulled him towards the forest, the cold beginning to freeze my hands. We traveled to the beginning of the woods, Isaac lagging behind. Just before we entered the woods I looked back at the boy, his face was contorted on a terrified expression.

I giggled.

December 9th, 2018

5:51PM

I gripped Isaac's hand tightly as we traveled through the woods. The branches of the tall trees were bare and dry, they held an every looking appearance. Shadows fell over top of us as we traversed through the grayish grass and muddy ground. The world was dark, as it usually got around this time in the winter. I could hardly see, my vision full of darkness. All I knew was that I must go deeper, deeper, and deeper. Isaac was stumbling beside me, his body unable to take the fast paced walking for so long. I kept pulling, pulling, and pulling.

Finally I was satisfied.

We had emerged in a clearing, I could feel the space around me.

I turned back to Isaac, sitting him down on the ground. He looked up at me in alarm, I could not see his face, with the exception of his eyes. His eyes were luminous and wide, glowing eerily in the dark. I grinned and got to work.

I set the large black bag down on the ground, opening the zipper. I ignored the other tools in it and pulled out a large pack of candles and white spray paint.

I pulled out a box of matches and lit each of the candles, the brightness of the flame lighting up the clearing. There were five candles, this was all I needed.

I turned back to Isaac, and saw his sleepy eyes slowly closing. I felt my body shiver, I knew what I needed to do. I needed to end this. I dug through the bag, and felt my hand touch the sharp blade of a knife.

I gripped it slowly, tension and pressure building in my heart. I stood, my body wracked with jitters. I turned around cautiously, the knife gripped high in my hand.

My foot stepped forward, each step seeming to pull me closer to the earth, my he'd was pounding.

Step.

Step.

Step.

I stood directly in front of Isaac breathing heavily.

His eyes were closed, he was unaware.

I shut my eyes tight and took a deep breath.

In and out.

In and out.

In.

Out.

I opened my eyes and raised the blade high.

In.

Out.

The blade moved down on a flash, the metal disappearing into the flesh of Isaac's neck.

A piercing scream tore through the air, Isaac's eyes were blown open. He clawed at his throats, the blood spewing out of the wound. It was spurting, as if I had bit into a ripe grape, the dark red liquid spilling into the floor and my hands. Isaac's face was coated in blood, his eyes rolling and tongue lolling. His hands gripped mine, and he attempted to look me in the face. I grimaced and felt tears well up in my eyes.

Isaac's grip grew looser, and his cries grew softer. The blood flow was still pulsing, the liquid flowing in waves.

In a matter of seconds, Isaac was still. His body twitched eerily, as if he were still alive somehow. I wished he was.

What had I done.

I pulled the knife out of the small boy's neck, and watched as the corpse fell to the floor with a plop. The puddle of blood splashed as Isaac landed directly in it. Isaac's eyes were still open, and his tongue was sticking out of his wide open mouth. A stream of blood was pouring out of the corpses mouth, and his skin was paler than ever before.

I felt the tears flow freely now, but I could not spend time regretting what had been done.

I moved forward and gripped a tuft of Isaac's hair, I pulled the body forward and started to prepare it.

I pulled out a small saw and turned to the body.

This needed to be done.

I laid down next to Isaac's remains and began to cut.

Cut.

Cut.

Cut.

I cut and hacked. Destroying all that had once been my son.

He had once been my son.

Now all he was were bits and pieces scattered across a forest floor.

I felt myself heaving and gagging at the scene. The mutilated body parts and fits strewn across the floor made my stomach turn. Blood covered every inch of my body, I could taste the metallic flavor of the liquid. It was everywhere, I felt it on me, I felt it inside me. I moved away from the scene and threw up the little contents of my stomach.

I couldn't do this.

Yet as I looked back, my vision swimming. I resigned that I had to finish.

I pulled out the white paint, and sprayed symbols into the grass. The symbols were contorted into a hateful symbol, a disgusting sign. I placed each candle at their designated areas and turned to the remains of my son.

All I had to do to finish, was place him here.

December 9th, 2018

7:20 PM

I sat in the middle of my creation. The candles cast an every glow upon the forest, and lit the dark liquid splattered across the room with an even more disturbing light. My eyes stared blankly ahead. There was body parts and white paints encircling me, it took all the strength I had not to vomit.

Finally, the moment I had been waiting for arrived.

There was more pressure in the air, the world seemed to freeze. Ahead of me, was the pink plush.

It seemed stuck in place, it's body not moving an inch. I smiled, my teeth showing.

"I killed him." I said in a hopeful tone.

The plushy did not move.  

"I killed the boy so you can leave!" I shouted at the toy.

There was still no response.

I grew frustrated, my hands clutched at my sides.

"Do something you piece of garbage!" I screamed in agony.

The plushy merely stared, the air was stagnant and flat. It was as if all the life in the world had been drained. My teeth were grit and my eyes wide. I had disposed of the child, the plushy had no purpose as long as he was dead.

The creature began to move forward, its crooked pink tail dragging behind it. I stared in anticipation, the seconds seeming to drag on.

The plush stopped at the black bag a few steps ahead of me. I stared in confusion. What was the monster doing?

The plushy stuck its hand in the bag and pulled out the saw.

My eyes widen and I tried to scream in peril.

The plushy sprinted forward before my mouth could open, and I felt the sharp blades of metal dig and slice across my neck.

The blood was splattering, spewing across the floor. I fell to the ground, gasping and desperately trying to breath. I could feel blood rushing in my throat, choking me. The world was fading, the face of the plushy being the only thing left in my vision.

Everything was fading.

The world was gone.

In and out.

In.

Out.

In...

December 12th, 2018

2:00 PM

Since the fire, I had been awake. Being awake was misery. Living in the body was worse. I had promised to protect Isaac. I failed each time.

Was there no winning for me?

When the police arrive on the scene of Isaac's murder days later, I saw their faces contort, I saw grown adults sob. I watched as many gagged and threw up the bile that had risen on their throats. It was a horrific scene.

Isaac's strewn body was tossed in mageled heaps across the clearing, and Shannon's mangled carcass lay resting in the center. It was morbid, ta was revolting, it was real. The police came to the conclusion any normal human would arrive to. The mother had killed her son, then killed herself. They needn't notice me watching in the corner, they needn't know this was all my fault.

All I had wanted to was help.

I swear that was all.

I wanted to help Isaac escape from his mother, he was always trapped.

I suppose he escaped, but his death wasn't the how this should have ended.

I couldn't cry in this body, but I wanted to. I wanted to be able to mourn the death of my best friend. Yet, I couldn't. I cursed this body, I cursed this life. I wanted all this to end.

I sat there in that clearing, withering away. I sat there and pondered my existence.

However, a comforting whisper pulled me from my thoughts.

"Come with me Marcos, you can move on now!" The voice spoke.

Had Isaac forgiven my atrocities? Was this him.

"Come on Marcos! I swear it's safe now!" Isaac's voice said cheerfully.

Was it really true? Had Isaac come back for me? I wanted to smile, he was here for me. I pulled out of the body, and wanderer into the light, where I hoped Isaac was waiting.