I lifted my head and looked up to the sky. The dark grey clouds had begun to leak, and I scrambled to my knees, desperate to protect my sister from the downpour that was threatening to fall. I hurried down the two flights of stairs and through the lounge, almost tripping over my own feet as I ran. I threw open the back door and moved silently to my little sister. Her face was turned towards me. Her black hair was covering her pale face, and as I moved neared, I could see her deep blue eyes watching me with content. I fell to my knees beside her and lifted her cooling hand [specked with blood and other things], lifting it to my mouth and placing a goodbye kiss in the centre.
'Oh, Morgie.' I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek. 'What happened to you?' The rain fell and the tears poured, and after a few minutes [twelve, exactly], I gently placed my hands under her arms and lifted her from the cold, muddy ground. I dragged her backwards, carefully, and through the rain-spattered glass doors that led into my home. The place I once felt safe and secure.
I set my sisters body down on the carpet and lit the fire. Although I knew she was gone, I still had the desire to keep her warm. To protect her, even though she no longer needed protecting. I sat on the floor beside her and lifted her head, placing it in my lap and moving a strand of hair from her still-open eyes. I brushed my hand over her face, and Morgana's eyes closed for the last time. I wiped a tear from my eye and a small smile appeared on my lips.
'Do-do you remember when we were little?' I asked her. Her silence was the only answer I required. 'And dad used to come into our bedroom when there was a thunder storm.' I looked up and into the burning wood that was feeding the fire, and my smile disappeared.
'He'd read us that… stupid little story, and we hated it… but neither of us had the heart to tell him b-because it made him so happy.' I chuckled, quietly. 'I had the damn thing memorised after three weeks. And-' I paused, looking down at my sleeping sister. 'And whenever dad was at work or-or you had a bad dream, 'I'd recite it to you, quietly, and you'd fall asleep while I held you in my arms.' The single tear soon turned into a waterfall, and I bowed my head and rested it against Morgana's. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
'Please, Morgie… please, wake up.' I begged hopelessly. 'I need you…' my voice broke, and I could no longer hide my tears from her. I sobbed for almost an hour, moving between begging for Morgana to wake up and telling her the story that I held so dear to my heart.
By the time I lifted my head, the fire was almost gone, and my head throbbed with the thought of my mother's laugh, echoing through my mind, and the image of Morgana dancing through the kitchen, singing a sweet song to he baby girl. I pulled my sleeves and wiped the wetness from my tired eyes. I moved Morgana's head to the floor and walked over to the couch, lifting a blanket and returning to cover her with it. Before moving from the room, I bowed my head to say a silent prayer, and then I left her to dream of happier things.
I searched the rest of the house, finding nothing. Returning to my bedroom, I noticed the balled up letter, lying sadly on the floor, and I picked it up. Unfolding it, I peered down at the empty page, confused.
'What is the point of you?' I asked, loudly. The silence had begun to scare me, and I longed to hear something. Anything. The envelope was on my bed. The writing looked vaguely familiar, but I could not work out who it belonged to. I stood there, as still as a statue, trying to work out what to do next.
It isn't often that I'm at a loss of what to do, I can assure you of that my friend. But I stood still, staring down at that envelope, and I did not move an inch [no blinking, no swaying. Barely breathing] until I heard the sound of a car coming up the driveway. I blinked rapidly, wetting my dry eyes, and I turned my head to the window. I rushed over and looked out. Parked in the driveway was a black car [A 1987 Ford Crown Victoria. All windows tinted black, all doors swung open.] and standing by it were four men. Black masks covered their faces, black gloves covered their hands. I froze as one looked up towards me, his eyes seeming to connect with mine, and when he looked away, I could have sworn that I saw him whispering to the man next to him. I ducked down quickly, unsure if I had been seen or not. I looked around my room, searching for somewhere to hide and finding nothing but a too-small wardrobe that his three year old brother wouldn't even fit into. I made my way to the door, keeping as low as I could until I reached the hall. My hair was stuck to my forehead by sweat, my hands were trembling and I was struggling to breathe. Were these the men that had killed my mother and sister? If so, I was certain that they had come back for me. I turned in circles, my eyes blurring and my head pounding even harder.
I froze as I heard the front door slowly creak open. I took three small steps forward and peered down into the foyer. The men were in the house, and they had slowly started moving forward. One turned left and headed into my father's office. There was nothing of interest in there, papers had been strewn all over the floor and the computer screen had been smashed. But there was no sign of my father. The man disappeared through the doorway, and as he walked I saw him pull something from his pocket. Another of he men turned right, heading to the kitchen, where the corpse of my mother lay. I clenched my fists and held my breath. The third of the men stood in the doorway, observing the men as they moved through the house, and the last of the men moved forward, soon disappearing under the stairs and heading into one of the three bathrooms that my home had. I moved backwards, my breath still held, and I spun around and quickly, but silently, headed for my parents' bedroom.
