My world did not end in a bang or a whisper, but rather one scream at a time.
Hiding from the monster that had invaded my home while he killed my family wasn't the best idea I'd had, but I'd been so scared, terrified of him finding me. I listened to the screams of my family with tears running down my face, trying my hardest not to make a sound. There was blood everywhere, I was covered in it, the entire house seemed to be covered in blood. I could hear the squelch of his boots walking around slowly, the begging and screams of my parents and siblings fading to nothing.
Covering my mouth with my hands, I watching through the slats of the wardrobe. Trying to breathe slowly and quietly, I knew he would find me. I had hid in the stupidest of places, like the characters in horror flicks who think hiding in the wardrobe behind clothes will save them. I had to do something but he was so close that my body refused to move, I was so terrified.
The only thing I could do was run and hope he wouldn't catch me. But then what? It's not like we had any close neighbours, we lived in a pretty remote area, surrounded by trees. The nearest 'neighbour' was at least a mile away. And even if I could get past him, running into the trees? That was classic movie mistake number two.
Looking through the slats, I watched the killer of my family stop in the doorway of the room. He knew I was here, I could see the small smile on his face. He walked slowly into my room, the squelching of his boots getting louder, leaving blood stained shoe prints on the wooden floor. I was trying hard to not let him hear me, to keep my sobs quiet. But like any good horror movie, he knew exactly where I was.
The doors to the wardrobe were flung open and a hand reached in, grabbing my arm. I screamed as he threw me across the room. He looked young, dressed in tattered clothes that were dirty and covered in blood, so much that it dripped onto the floor like raindrops.
I scrambled across the floor trying to get away from him, but the floor was covered in blood and I kept slipping. He grabbed my hair, my hands reaching up and clawing at him to let go. He squatted beside me and smiled, his teeth a grimy brown colour. "I think I'll play with you for a bit." Standing up, he dragged me up with him, throwing me onto the bed and quickly straddling me so I couldn't escape. I reached around trying to find something, anything I could use to hurt him, to get him off me. Grabbing the lamp from the bedside table, I smashed it across his head as hard as I could. "I don't think so fucker," I yelled.
He fell to the side clutching his head and I used that momentum to kick him off me. I jumped off the bed and ran as fast as I could, I couldn't get any traction on the blood covered floor causing me to slide into a wall, losing my balance. I could hear him getting up and instead of trying to get up and run, I slid across the hallway, slid through my family's blood, to get to the stairs then practically threw myself down them. I landed with a thud and I turned just in time to see him at the top of the stairs.
"No use in runnin' girl." He told me, walking down the stairs.
Scrambling to my feet, I ran through the dining room and into the kitchen, throwing open all the drawers trying to find the sharpest knife I could. I was so busy looking, making so much noise, that I didn't realise he was behind me until it was too late. He stabbed the knife through my back and I felt it slide all the way through me until I saw the tip protrude out of my stomach. Blood pooled in my mouth and I coughed making it spray all over the cutlery drawers before it dribbling down my chin. I gripped onto the bench, trying to stop myself from falling to the floor, but the pain, the pain was excruciating. He pulled the knife back out, blood spurting as he did so and I fell to my knees.
Suddenly, the back door was kicked open, two tall men standing in the doorway. My vision was blurring, my body getting weak as I heard three distinct shots then seeing one of the boys rush towards me, catching me before I fell completely to the floor.
"Dean, she's hurt." I felt a hand lift my top and touch my skin which was wet and sticky with blood. "I don't think…" he tapered off.
The other tall guy, Dean? I saw his blurred figure kneel beside me. "I tried…" I sputtered, coughing up more blood. I wanted them to know I tried, I tried to save my family, I tried to get help. Darkness was shrouding my eyes now and I knew it was just a matter of seconds before I died. I felt a hand touch my forehead as my eyes closed for the final time. "We know sweetheart. We know."