The light seeped in between my barely open eyelids. As they slowly fluttered open, I admired the setting before me. I lay on what looked to be fresh spring grass drizzled with morning dew. The meadow I lay in seemed to go on forever, the only border being the crisp robin's egg blue sky. I tried to sit up to admire the scene, but was restrained by the slimy spider web like texture holding me down. I struggled against the web, every time I lifted myself up, I caught a glimpse of my restraint. The gooey web left behind a sticky residue that clumped the fresh grass together and slowly turned it an unpleasant yellow-brown. My naked body was covered with a sheet of the material. I tried to wriggle free, wondering how I had gotten into this meadow and what had trapped me in this substance against my will. I let out a blood curdling scream in distress, The meadow began to flicker out of existence and was replaced with an all white, smoothly tiled room. The entire thing lighted up and the creatures that abducted me appeared to me.

BEFORE:

My husband returned home from work and I, being the dedicated wife that I am, had prepared a lovely meal waiting for him. "Welcome home, dear." I said. He replied with a nod and an obviously forced smile. I leaned in for a kiss and he shooed me off.

I called our two children, Macy and Dan, to come to the dining room for dinner. Their father, however, retreated to the den to watch the television. I remember when he had come home with that machine. We had been one of the two first people to get one in our countryside neighborhood. "Aren't you hungry?" I asked my husband. "Not for that," he replied without looking up, "smells disgusting." I sighed, thinking of all the wonderfully horrible remarks I could make at him, but with a glance at my the bruises on my arms and chest I decided to keep quiet.

I returned to the dining room where my two beautiful children were waiting for me. They looked up at me with concern about their father, but I just gave them a weak smile and a shake of my head. We held hands around the table and I repeated a prayer that I routinely repeated every night that ended with "amen". We served ourselves and ate in silence.

I then got the children dressed and ready for bed. They each called for their father to say goodnight, but I shushed them telling both of them "Daddy isn't having a good day." Which is what I seemed to be telling them every night, and they were surely getting sick of it. After I turned out each of their lights I went and got myself ready for bed.

I stared at myself in the mirror. Ever since I had married Bobby, my appearance had lost life. He hadn't always been this way. We had dated since high school and he had always been sweet, he was my first love. The day we got married he changed. I wasn't allowed to do the things I used to, like crafting and going to book club meetings. He had always kept me inside, telling me not to go whoring around town. My brown hair used to be perfectly styled, my clothes used to be glamorous and flattering, but now I was bland and boring. I put on my floor-length white nightgown and lay in bed to read a bit before Bobby came in after watching the television for hours on end.

The bedroom door was slightly open so I could hear the kids if they needed anything. I was surprised when I heard a soft "Hi Daddy." from Dan's room. It made me smile that Bobby was making an effort to acknowledge his child's existence. I heard a slicing noise and then a gasp, but stupidly dismissed it for stirring about Dan's room. Next I heard a quite "Daddy, why are you so dirty?" from Macy's room. "Daddy... Is that... AHH-." Then bumping a more slicing noises. The shriek alerted my senses and I realized that the noises I was hearing weren't just noises, but weapon on skin contact. I sprinted to the living room and retrieved a fire poker, still hot from being carelessly left in the furnace. Out of Macy's room emerged a blood stained version of my husband and children's murderer.

My first instinct was to hold the fire poker straight out in front of me and drive the weapon into his chest. My second, more reasonable, instinct was to call the police. I did not expect what actually happened to happen. The ground shook, slowly at first then more rapidly. A bright, eye piercing light flooded into the house through all openings. An ear wrenching, high pitched buzz hung in the air. Lights, radios, children's toys, appliances, and the television flickered on and off. I fell to the ground as I watched the terror eyed Bobby be lifted a few feet in the air. His chest heaved as he looked in all directions. Just as the noises, shaking, and flickering stopped, Bobby's limbs were torn out of their sockets. Blood spurted out of all the openings. His eyes, nostrils, ears, and mouth poured out blood. I past my husband's stump of a body to my childrens' rooms. Dan, lay lifeless on his bed with a blood oozing slice across his throat. Macy lay face down on the floor with a blood dripping, hole filled back.

I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I could have called the police and blame my childrens' death on my husband, all the evidence was there, but how would I explain the dismembered body of my husband when I didn't understand it myself. I'd end up in Briarcliff with my brother, Kit. Kit had claimed to experience something very similar to this. I had never believed him, and even thought he belonged there, until now.

Next thing I knew, I found myself dragging the bed sheet wrapped bodies of my children, Bobby, and all blood stained items into the center of the woods. I began to dig two separate holes for each of my children and a larger hole for Bobby and the evidence. By daylight the holes had been patted down, I said a prayer for my children and said "I hope you rot in hell for all of your sins." to my very much dead husband. As I walked back to the house I watched the sun rise and realized that I had just lost the three of the four most important people in my life. The last person was locked up in a mental asylum and I was not ready to let him stay there. I needed to see him and tell him everything that happened.

I put the house back in order to make it look as unsuspicious as possible and packed up my belongings, not planning on returning. I drove the what seemed like endless drive to Briarcliff, full of psychos. I had never visited this dreaded asylum after my parents informed me of what happened to my baby brother. I was afraid of him and the others, but right now it was looking like I might belong there just as much as some of them. The authorities stopped me at the gate asking if I had an appointment. I said that I did, with the administrator (who ever that was), and they believed me. I was happy to see that Sister Mary Eunice greeted me at the entrance. It was nice to see someone like her sticking by the church and moving on to helping people. She informed me that I would have to visit Kit in his solitary confinement because he was too difficult to manage during his transition. I agreed and she guided me to his cell. I wasn't allowed to enter the room, I had to talk to him through the barred window between us. Sister Mary Eunice told me she'd be back in twenty minutes to give us some time.

"What the hell are you doing here, Lori?" Kit smiled, all dimples. My eyes teared up as I watched my baby brother approach me in his cell. I held his hand through the bars. "Something happened, Kit," I told him, "something awful." His dimple filled smile faded into a concerned frown and his brow creased. "Did they get you too?" He asked. I shook my head "But they killed Bobby, and he killed the kids." This was the first time I had let my emotions about the tragedy show. "They ripped him up and he sliced up the kids, Kit" I barely whispered through my cries. Kit teared up also. "I'm so sorry, Lori." He kept saying over and over. He let go of my trembling hands and paced around the room. "Kit, What the hell am I supposed to do?" Kit stopped pacing and looked at me. "You need to get me the hell out of here."