I am still not exactly sure what happened that day seven years ago. I remember I was holding my sisters and running through the park. I can not recall what we were doing there or how we got there, but never the less we were there. It was noon, no, wait, it was dark out, and we were running from something. My sister, Aphrodite, tripped on a fallen limb and face planted into the ground. I knelt down to help her up but I got the strange sensation that we were being watched. I looked around and hoped our dad, yes it was our dad we were running away from, had not caught up to us. Aphrodite whined that her ankle was causing her much pain. At the time she had no idea what pain really felt like, neither did I.
I grabbed her hand and helped her to her shaky feet. I glanced behind Aphrodite's head and noticed head lights coming straight at us. We continued to run, adrenaline pushed us foreword, but why were we running from dad? Aphrodite's ankle gave out on her and she tumbled to the ground. I tugged her hand but her ankle would not allow her to stand. The headlights stopped in front of us and a figure emerged from the truck. It was not my dad and I felt a wave of relief come over me. The man asked me what was wrong with my sister and I showed him.
His remark was, "Get in the truck. She needs to get her ankle bandaged." Why did we get in the truck? Getting in that truck brought an end to our word and the events that took place in that place still haunt me to this very day. The irony of it all is I can not even remember why we were running away from dad anyway. I knew something was awfully wrong with him the second I saw his face in the light of day, his eyes were a murky greenish yellow.
And after all, the eyes are the key to the soul...
