lucent (adj); softly bright or radiant
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My brother's hand traces the cut on my right cheek for some minutes. I have no idea how a cut can be so interesting, but I won't judge a book by its cover.
He unexpectedly moves and places a he...
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Warning; violence and blood.
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As soon as my body hits the grass, my vision blurs for an instant. My back is on fire, my legs and arms hurting from the impact. Falling from three meters high isn't funny at all. My whole body feels so heavy it takes a good eight seconds to recover from the fall when something snaps inside of me.
My mind is on alert right away. Picking my PE bag and slinging it on my shoulders as I frantically look for my phone, hiding in the darkened of the night. When I finally get my hands on it, my fingers are able to feel the few cracks that the fall has inflicted onto the screen. When I stumbled back, my phone fell from my teeth, it must have hit the house's structure pretty hard as the screen is basically blank.
No call visible, no lady or dispatcher to guide me into what should I do next, which actually terrifies me.
Hiding somewhere in the garden isn't an option; it's surrounded by some high metal fences that have spikes for people not to enter from outside. Attempting to climb it would be pretty useless, to be honest.
On the other side of the garden, there's the back door that leads to the laundry room. If I'm fast enough I'll make it into a hiding spot in the house before that stupid monster gets to catch me. I stalk towards it. I open the eerily already opened door so slowly, it fortunately doesn't creak. My sister would never let any door outside unlocked, there's something definitely wrong here.
As soon as my feet enter the house, a burning sensation travels trough my body. The atmosphere feels hot, too warm to be able to persist inside the house, but there's no other way of saving me from the knife's reach.
I don't bother closing the door behind me. Too much precious time to waste if I did. I make a move towards the door when suddenly footsteps are heard. They are not coming form upstairs, but from downstairs and for a small moment, I feel hopeful. My sister is not dead. She's alive and walking through the house. But all fantasies are cut short when there's another set of footsteps heard all over the house, this time coming from upstairs.
I freeze in my spot. My blood going cold. The door that leads to the kitchen to my right, is almost closed, only a tiny crack visible to the eye. But it's enough space for me to hear a hushed conversation between two people. There's not one but two people in my house.
If I were to enter the kitchen, I'd be dead in a heartbeat. If I go back to the garden I'd be dead in two heartbeats. Both options lead to the same thing: my death.
A ridiculously stupid idea occurs to me, and it's not until the voices have stopped talking that I don't give it a second thought and do it. The horizontal freezer besides the washing machine is opened carefully by my trembling hands. Cold hitting my face instantly. I swing my left leg first and once I'm inside, I immediately close it.
