I woke up at 2 A.M. gasping for breath. My skin glistened with cold sweat brought on by my hellish nightmares.
Why won’t they stop?!
Flashes of bodies appeared within my mind. I still heard their screams.
*I couldn’t make it in time.
“Please, help us!”
I was too late.
“I’m scared, big brother! Don’t let them get me!”*
I clutched my head, trying to keep their voices out. They wouldn’t stop haunting me!
*“How could you run away from us? Haven’t we been good to you?”
I didn’t want to run, but what was I supposed to do?!*
I shook my head to rid myself of the images. Around 4 A.M. I finally couldn’t take it and so I slipped off the sheets and got out of bed.
As I walked through the halls I still clearly saw the stains everywhere, despite the fact that I scrubbed the walls for hours as per usual.
I walked into the kitchen and went straight toward the refrigerator. As I opened the door to get the milk I made sure to ignore my father’s head next to fruit. I couldn’t stand the disappointment in his eyes.
It’s not real.
I closed the door and placed the carton on the island in the center of the room, sidestepping the splatters that dripped onto the floor. I paid them no mind, not anymore.
It’s all in your head.
I went to grab a glass from the cabinet. As I opened it I was greeted by my mother and her crimson tears, her hands reached out to me. I made sure to stay out of her grasp as I took the glass above her bloody tresses.
She's not there.
After I had my drink I put the carton back in its place. I placed the glass in the sink, and made sure to avoid direct eye contact with the twins. They always sat on the counter.
It wasn’t my fault.
My little sister swung her legs back and forth despite her lack of feet. Out of the corner of my eye my younger brother smiled at me, his ragged bear held between coagulated stumps.
I'm so sorry.
I ignored the familiar prickling in my eyes as I turned around and made my way back toward my bedroom.
I’m sorry I was so useless.
As I slid under my sheets once again I thought about my life since the incident. I was sure that my torment wouldn’t end anytime soon.
“Why would it? It’s been five years now.”
The mangled form of the family dog unknowingly barked in agreement from the corner of my room.
I turned my head to look at my clock on the bedside table, 4:45 A.M. blared back at me. I couldn’t help but groan. Another night of damnation has passed. With a sigh I closed my eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep, my last thought echoed in my mind.
I still have to go to work later.
Submitted September 05, 2016 at 05:10AM by batfamfan http://ift.tt/2ccMJlX shortscarystories
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