26 • Him

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It's too quiet in my opinion. The lights are all switched off, but I can still see outlines of different objects. This is unusual, even for Mom. She has a fear of the dark, so she always has to leave at least one light on in the house. To be honest, I also have a fear of the dark, for good reasons. For example: a psychopath that comes into my room every night to take photos and warn me of the near future.


I don't call out to Mom again, just in case someone else is in the house, like I'm expecting, considering the lock had been broken. As I stare down the pitch black hallway, I decide to grab for my phone, which is in my pocket. Hopefully, it can help brighten the place up, or at least, make it so that I can walk without falling on my face.


When I attempt to switch on the flashlight app I have, I notice I had received a message earlier tonight. I remembered I hadn't checked it before meeting Xavier, so I open it up.


"Oh my god," I put my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. The text is from Mom's cell, but the message isn't from Mom.


'I warned you.'


"No, please," I whisper. Xavier immediately pops into my head. The way we kissed would have sent him over the edge. Then, a thought comes to me, one that threatens to break me completely. "Mom...oh god, please don't have hurt her."


Quickly, I enter the flashlight app and hold my phone above my head. I let out a quiet sob when I see something glistening against the wall. It's too dark to tell for sure, but I think it may be blood splattered against the white paint. The trail, to my horror, leads to Mom's room.


"Please," I try not to start sobbing. "Please don't have harmed her."


As I walk, the stuff that I think is blood gets thicker, drenching the floors as well as the walls. I shiver slightly as I reach the door, which has a dark handprint left on the wood. The haunting question that enters my mind is, is it Mom's handprint?


Hesitantly, I push the door open wide enough to reach my hand through and hit the switch. When I pull back, I examine the wet material that had been on the light switch. I rub the crimson liquid in between my fingers, testing its thickness. Lifting my fingers to my nose, I smell the substance. It is blood.


Oh no.


Quickly, I push open the door. Only, once I do, I wish I hadn't.


The wall above Mom's bed is drenched in crimson, spreading out in splatters. The floor and furniture are also wet with blood, and a few things, like her lamp, are scattered on the ground. As I step closer, I see someone in the bed. I let out a sob when I see who it is.


"Mom!"


I rush to her side, letting tears slip down my face. Her wide eyes are blank, lifeless. They stare at the ceiling, as if they were looking at their attacker, completely terrified of him. Her shirt has almost been shredded completely, and multiple stab wounds litter her body, especially in her chest area. When I pull the remaining piece of her shirt away, there is one word written Mom's torso. That one word tells me he's here, that he did this to Mom.

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