Insane

Chapter 2

When I opened my eyes, I was kneeling next to my mother, hands covered in blood. An axe was stuck in her back, and her eyes were stuck in a look of fear. I let out a muffled sob, bringing a blood-soaked hand to her face, closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry Johnny did this to you." I whisper, standing. The absence of my father worries me. There are marks in the floor, like nails that had dug into the wood, leaving trails.

I follow the blood and the grooves in the wood. My house isn't very big, my family and I have always been tight on money, so in just a few steps around a corner I find myself standing in front of our coat closet.

"Don't go in there, Char." Johnny whispers, and my head whips around to look for him, but I find nothing.

I look down at the doorknob, bloody fingerprints covering the bronze. I squint, examining the handle. Those look too small to be Johnny's... I think, but I shake my head. Of course it's Johnny's fingerprints.

Slowly, my hand turns the doorknob, and I brace myself for what's inside. I wasn't ready, though. Inside was my father, or what was left of him. His body was covered in deep gashes and some parts looked like they were going to fall off, and he was in only his boxers.

He was missing his hands and feet, and he was hung upside-down, a rope tied around his knees. His eyes were cloudy, and not the pretty hazel they once were. I scream, slamming the door shut quickly.

"I did it so they wouldn't hurt you." Johnny insists as I sob. He holds me as I bury my face into his chest, nose runny and crying.

My eyes are puffy and sore when I finally stop. I feel tired, drained of all my energy. It's not Johnny's fault, I tell myself, he just wanted to protect me.

"Johnny, what am I going to do?" I whispered, holding the front of his sweater tightly. "I'm only 15. I can't take care of myself." My throat hurts and if I has any tears left, I would have cried again.

"I'll take care of you." Johnny says, swiping his clean thumb across my cheek, wiping away the tears. "I'll always take care of you."

"Johnny... We have to go somewhere. We have to leave here." I whisper, voice breaking.

"You get cleaned up, alright? Don't worry. I'll wait for you to pack what you need." He says, pushing me lightly towards the stairs.

I shower, scrubbing some of my skin until it's pink to get the... blood off. I change into a simple black sweater, an old pair of ripped black jeans, and red Doc Martens before I went into my room to pack.

I pull a purple suitcase from under my bed, rolling it over to my closet and shoving as much as I could inside: shirts, pants, shoes, books, diaries, pens, blankets, toothbrush and toothpaste, hairbrush...

Finally, I couldn't shove anything else inside. My room was nearly empty. I could barely get the zipper to close.

I pull the heavy case downstairs, meeting Johnny. "I'm ready." I squeak.

He faces me, smiling, and says, "Me too."