An eerie silence pierced Fiona's ears as she pushed upon the heavy front door. There was no reaction or disturbance from anything in the house. It seemed dead. But of course, nothing is as it seems, and Fiona knew all too well that the world is under no obligation to give us what we expect. With this thought in mind Fiona pushed the door open the rest of the way. All she needed was to grab her wallet from upstairs.. Yet her room, though close, seemed as far away as an eternity.
Making as little noise as possible, she stepped up one stair at a time until the banister curved off to the right down a hallway. No lights were on in the house, though it was easy to see for the sun was high on what would have been a cheery saturday morning in May. It was anything but cheery. The door to her father's room was open wide, and Fiona looked in as she passed. There he was, sprawled out like a WW2 solider that had just been dragged in from battle and thrown onto the bed. He made no noise as he slept, which had always made her slightly uneasy because there was no judging if he was actually asleep or not. Fiona decided to get get out as quickly as she could and not think about it.
It looked so close, the door to her room. Only a mere 5 feet away. Still she stood motionless in the hallway. The hinges on her door always squeeked as loud as a dying cow, and Fiona was debating with herself whether or not to risk it. Deciding against possible DEATH Fiona headed back to the stairs, about to descend them when she foolishly took a moment to look around her. The house was spotless, it always had been. She thought with chagrin that if it weren't for her, her father would most likely be living on the street as a drunkard in some dirty back alley part of the city. The light from the window reflected beautifully off the shiny banister... beconning her to go down.
"Good morning, sweetheart."
Fiona froze. This was quite possibly THE worst thing that could have happened. Options started flying through Fi's head like sand in an hourglass, each one stupider than the next. But before thinking about it she took one of the options, and went flying down the stairs. One would thank that if you were being followed and you ran, then whoever was following you would run too, right?
There was no sounds coming from behind her.. once at the bottom of the stairs, she turned her head to look behind her.
No one.
Deciding NOT to investigate, Fiona her head back around, about to flee out the front door. A face. That face stared back at her with shallow irreversible eyes that forever had a lock on her.
"How-"
Fiona was cut off, being knocked to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Instantly he was on top of her, her shoulderblades digging into the carpet. Struggling came to no avail, trying to free herself from his grasp. Opening her mouth to scream, no sounds escaped her mouth. There was a quick glint of something metal, reflecting off the happy glow of the sun. Then it was there.. a knife in her skin, her chest, through her heart. Fiona's back arched slightly and all she could do was gasp a tiny squeek of air.
Then suddenly everything seemed to stop. Like a movie put on pause. Fiona rolled to the side, which under any other circumstance would have been impossible because she was pinned down by the stake through her heart. But no.. she sat up slowly, touching her chest. It was bleeding profusely, and her fingers were stained with blood, but there was only the single cut, and nothing else. It was as though the knife and her father had become nothing but images and she had just rolled right through them.
"How did I..."
Suddenly the door busted open and there was someone silhouetted against the bright lights of the sun. Fiona felt her father's grip around her neck..
Blackness.
Making as little noise as possible, she stepped up one stair at a time until the banister curved off to the right down a hallway. No lights were on in the house, though it was easy to see for the sun was high on what would have been a cheery saturday morning in May. It was anything but cheery. The door to her father's room was open wide, and Fiona looked in as she passed. There he was, sprawled out like a WW2 solider that had just been dragged in from battle and thrown onto the bed. He made no noise as he slept, which had always made her slightly uneasy because there was no judging if he was actually asleep or not. Fiona decided to get get out as quickly as she could and not think about it.
It looked so close, the door to her room. Only a mere 5 feet away. Still she stood motionless in the hallway. The hinges on her door always squeeked as loud as a dying cow, and Fiona was debating with herself whether or not to risk it. Deciding against possible DEATH Fiona headed back to the stairs, about to descend them when she foolishly took a moment to look around her. The house was spotless, it always had been. She thought with chagrin that if it weren't for her, her father would most likely be living on the street as a drunkard in some dirty back alley part of the city. The light from the window reflected beautifully off the shiny banister... beconning her to go down.
"Good morning, sweetheart."
Fiona froze. This was quite possibly THE worst thing that could have happened. Options started flying through Fi's head like sand in an hourglass, each one stupider than the next. But before thinking about it she took one of the options, and went flying down the stairs. One would thank that if you were being followed and you ran, then whoever was following you would run too, right?
There was no sounds coming from behind her.. once at the bottom of the stairs, she turned her head to look behind her.
No one.
Deciding NOT to investigate, Fiona her head back around, about to flee out the front door. A face. That face stared back at her with shallow irreversible eyes that forever had a lock on her.
"How-"
Fiona was cut off, being knocked to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Instantly he was on top of her, her shoulderblades digging into the carpet. Struggling came to no avail, trying to free herself from his grasp. Opening her mouth to scream, no sounds escaped her mouth. There was a quick glint of something metal, reflecting off the happy glow of the sun. Then it was there.. a knife in her skin, her chest, through her heart. Fiona's back arched slightly and all she could do was gasp a tiny squeek of air.
Then suddenly everything seemed to stop. Like a movie put on pause. Fiona rolled to the side, which under any other circumstance would have been impossible because she was pinned down by the stake through her heart. But no.. she sat up slowly, touching her chest. It was bleeding profusely, and her fingers were stained with blood, but there was only the single cut, and nothing else. It was as though the knife and her father had become nothing but images and she had just rolled right through them.
"How did I..."
Suddenly the door busted open and there was someone silhouetted against the bright lights of the sun. Fiona felt her father's grip around her neck..
Blackness.