1 for being a mistake, 1 for my own screw ups, 3 for doing this to my family, 20 to see who cares. All up my right wrist, nice and lined up like scribbles in a paper. So much like scribbles on paper that I can't even use red pen without feeling like throwing up. Why am I even doing this to myself? Right, who would notice or even care? How do those lyrics go again? "I can see you're sad even when you smile, even when you laugh, I can see it in your eyes deep inside you want to cry." God, I'm so pathetic.
Pathetic enough to hide. An outsider wouldn't even know I was home. Looking back I guess it was for the best that I was in that mind frame at that given moment.
Because as I made the 25th slash for tonight I heard my mom screaming outside where I was. Screaming and something that sounded wet and disgusting. There was gurgling, then silence. It didn't stop there though. I could hear foreign footsteps going up the stairs, then my brother screaming and my dad pleading the person to stop. Then that scream was cut off the same way, and once more for my dad. Shit. He's going to come this way.
Frozen only for a few seconds I jumped behind the dryer, keeping the lights off, taking the knife with me in case. I only had about 5 seconds before I saw the lights flick on. I stayed quiet. Easier said then done, by the way. I had to hold my breath so my breathing wouldn't be heard. It seemed like forever of just dead silence. Finally, I heard the knife of the stranger fall into the bathroom sink. If only my mom believed in guns... I waited until I heard the footsteps leave, and the light turned off. I heard the stranger check my room, then the closet under the stairs before they stalked off. I figured it was a smart thing to do now to quietly follow them to get a glimpse of who it was. Yes, I've watched many a crime shows in my day. I carefully climbed over the dryer, being careful that the metal didn't bend in and make a popping noise, a certain skill I've acquired from my hide n seek days, and I glanced around the corner. He didn't even bother to wear a mask! I noted down in my mind exactly what he looked like, memorizing every line in his face. He left the house, but not before sending a bullet through my dog Kali, for good measure. I choked a bit. Heartless son of a bitch killed my senior puppy! I waited until his white Van, I memorized that too, pulled out of the driveway.
Finally.
I ran to my mom and checked her pulse. Dead. I started to cry. "Mom?" I swallowed my tears back. I don't have time! I ran upstairs to see if I still had a dad or a little brother. Both were dead. "Cameron? Daddy!" my voice was so shrill now.
I didn't call the cops right away. There was some stuff I needed to do first. I didn't turn on the lights just in case, but I grabbed the chlorox wipes and cleaned out the empty bathtub, scrubbing it completely clean. I didn't clean just that, I cleaned the whole bathroom so it didn't seem weird. I cleaned my cuts after that, and changed into a long sleeved shirt. I grabbed some clothes, and shoved them in a bag to take with me, since this was a crime scene now. I didn't care what I grabbed, I couldn't even see through the tears openly pouring down my face. The whole ordeal took me less than 7 minutes.
I finally could call 911. I grabbed my cell. My old track-phone one, it wasn't traceable. All precautions necessary. "Hello, 911, what's your emergency?"
"My family is dead. I hid, and I'm fine but I don't know how long that will last. Please help." I know how to control my voice so it was understandable, even though someone looking at me could infer I was basically traumatized.
"Alright, police and paramedics are on the way, I need you to stay on the line-"
"I can't! This is a prepaid phone and I have, like, 1 minute le-" it cut off. Perfect.
"FUCK!" I shouted, hurling the phone across the room. If only I hadn't wasted the minutes sending the pictures from it to my newer one. And it's not like I can just call 911 back. I curled up against the wall, hands on my face, not able to control the hysteria escaping now. After about 30 seconds, I got up and found both cats and held them. They knew something was wrong and let me. I stayed in this position, hoarding my cats, for minutes. My head throbbed, and I couldn't even see.
The door opened. For a fleeting second I thought it might be the man coming back. I scrambled back before I could see who was there. A flashlight shone in my face. Ow. I let go of a cat to shield my eyes and saw people with guns in front of me. FBI was written on their vests. They all lowered their guns, and the brunette woman pulled me up and away in a protective way that seemed like she'd had to much experience in this.
"Wait!" I cried out, straining against her hold to turn around. "The animals!"
"It's okay, Kid, we got them" the dark skinned bald guy reassured and grabbed the cats, motioning toward the skinny one to grab the guinea pig cage. "Here, I'll just put them in the car outside."
The tears started in even further force now. I leaned against the brunette, allowing her to support me as I almost made myself sick from this. What just happened? It seems like a half hour ago I was just listening to YouTube. 20 minutes ago I began my almost nightly ritual, and just 15 minutes ago I was interrupted, and now my whole family is dead. I blacked out, momentarily wondering why the FBI was involved.
o.o.o.o.o.o
Went fast, right? X3 fits the rushed mood. Beginning. For the record, the character does not channel me. Sorry that it was only 2 pages worth on Microsoft word, I'll make the others longer. Oh, and one more thing, I apologize, for any typos, I wrote it on my Ipod and autocorrect is a pain in the butt.