𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐭.
~
For five years, Evelyn turned up missing. Locked at the bottom of an endless void of water in a metal safe. Trapped in a coma of her own. Though she returns, nothi...
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The leaves make pitter patter noises as the rain falls down. I stand on the porch, water dripping from my hair, my clothes. I turn toward the swing where me and mom once sat. Where Ollie once sat.
"What are you doing?" He had asked me, swinging in late April as the wind blew in his hair, ruffling it.
"Shush. I need to focus." I had mumbled, and he listened.
I wish I could go back in time.
"Blood Witches can slow down time, but they can't travel the time dimension." Ady's voice echoes in my head, making me close my eyes and sigh. I'll have to check on them.
I turn my head forward before opening my eyes. The lights are off, the place seeming dead. I grab onto the doorknob, exhaling a slow breath, and slowly twist.
It's locked.
I turn to the window and walk toward it. Maybe the window is unlocked? I push the glass upward, but it doesn't move.
Locked.
I'm gonna have to climb. The rain has lightened up some, but not much. It's still storming. I walk off of the porch and toward the side of the house, where my bedroom is. I place my box on the window ledge before stepping on it. I don't want to make much noise, so I can't jump up. I push myself up before grabbing onto the window ledge of my window. I manage to climb onto it and I do the same thing I did with the other window.
It's not locked.
I smile in victory before climbing inside. I hold my hand out and the box flies into my hands. I quietly close my window before I set my box down on my desk beside the window. I shift my gaze to my bed, seemingly untouched.
I remember the time me and Ollie sat on this bed, talking about my father. The father that I've grown to love. Actually, I think I've always loved him. I mean, he's my father. It was anger that blinded me from seeing that.
I look around the rest of the room, the same as it was. Pictures on one of the four walls, my desk cluttered with items, my closet door open. There's a toy box inside of my closet, from when I was younger. I didn't stay here very long, but I still have clean clothes in the closet.
I take a step forward, the floorboard creaking. I freeze, afraid to take another step.
Shit. What if someone's here? I mean, the door was locked.
I take another step, the floor creaking again.
Damn it. Why are the floors so creaky?
The light in the hallway turns on and I freeze again.
Shit.
I vamp-speed into the closet, hiding. I hear my door open as I press myself up against the wall. I clench my eyes shut, listening to a gun cock. It sounds like a shotgun.
