Shattered

Chapter Eighteen

Sophie gasps behind me, as I continue to stare at the mirror. 

"You did this, didn't you?!" Sophie yells behind me, but I don't listen. 

Is this the person who murdered my family?

I shake my head. "It wasn't me who did this." 

Sophie comes up to me, careful not to step on the glass scattered on the floor. 

"Then why is your thumb all bandaged?!" Sophie keeps looking at my thumb. 

I didn't notice it before, but the blood had soaked through some of the band-aid now. "I cut my thumb on my phone yesterday." I try to tell her. 

"Lies. You did this! You wanted attention!" Sophie yells. 

"Sophie, please just listen to me. I promise you that I—"

"Does that mean you murdered your family too? Does that me you put the axe there too? Does that mean you killed the only family we had left?!" Sophie sobs out.

My eyes start to water. "No! I would never hurt them!" 

In one of the other rooms, a phone rings. "Start cleaning this up, and then I'm taking you to see a doctor." Sophie goes out of the room.

I hear Sophie talking in the other room to someone, but I'm not sure who. But I cannot take my eyes off the broken mirror. I am the one who did it, I am the one who did it, I am the one who did it, I am the one who did it...

     Does that mean this was written by the killer? I shiver. A killer broke into Sophie's house, my room. And broke the mirror. And then wrote a note. I am the one who did it. Who was I? I mean, not who was I, but the "I" in the note. Who's the one? And what did they do?

     My thoughts seemed to be a dead end. Everywhere they turned, they got no where.
After a couple of minutes, Sophie walks back in my room, not looking as flustered as she was earlier. "I have good news." 

"What is it?" I ask. What kind of news can be good at this point in time? 

"They think they've caught the killer."

"Really? That is good news!" I let out a sigh of relief. "Who is it?"

Sophie glances around the room, looking uncomfortable. 

"It's you."

~ ~ ~

I sit up right in my bed. Sweat trickled down my forehead as I tried to make sense of everything. I look over at the mirror. It wasn't broken. There was no note. Sophie wasn't even in the room. It was all just another terrible nightmare. 

My lamp was still on, and I had no clue what time it was. My mall shopping bags laid at the foot of my bed, right where I left them. I must have been tired from the mall trip, and fell asleep. But why don't I remember that? 

I waited for my brain to come up with a logical answer. But it didn't. I wanted it to.
I got up and grabbed my laptop, turning it on. It was only seven o'clock. We got home at four. I had been sleeping for three hours?

I got up out of bed and went into the living room. "Aunt Sophie?" I called out, but my voice felt small, even in the tiny cabin. 

I go into the kitchen to get some water when I see a note on the counter. 

"I went to go pick up some take out and go to the store to pick up a few things. I was going to wake you up, but I would have felt bad. Be home soon! - S"

Great. Now I'm stuck in this tiny cabin, isolated on a mountain, alone. Not to mention, without my cell phone. Sophie has a home phone somewhere, but I am not sure where it is. 

I sigh. Why did she leave me here alone? I would have been fine waking up. But knowing that I am alone up here. With no way of getting down. And the killer is still on the loose. And they know where I am. Even though I dreamed about the mirror breaking, the axe was still real. 

I sat down on the couch with nothing but myself and my fears. I decided to turn on the TV, wanting to loose myself in the screen for a while. Or at least until Sophie came back. 

How long had she been gone?

No, Dani, don't think like that. She will be home soon. 

What if something bad happens to her?

These thoughts kept going on. I couldn't help but think the worst. After an hour and a half of watching some movie on Disney Channel, I started to panic.

Just as another program started up again, I heard a noise. 

Ring... Ring...Ring. 

The phone. I get up. The phone rings more. I walk slowly. As a lover of horror films, this never ends well. Whether it's a little girl on the other end whispering, "Seven Days," or a serial killer calling to tell you that he's waiting for you on your front porch, it never ends well. 

I reach the home phone, and pick it up slowly. "H-Hello..?" I say softly.

"Hello? Is this Daniella Justice?" A man on the other end says. 

His voice sounded calm. "Yes." I say, just as softly. 

But what he said was far more worse than serial killers on porches, or little girls whispering. Way worse. 

"Daniella, I have some bad news. I am sending someone your way to pick you up and bring you to the hospital. Your Aunt Sophie has just been in a terrible car accident."

I drop the phone.