Skip to main content

She'd just made that mistake she wasn't making it again.

Knock... knock... knock...

The little girl looked up from her book. Had that knock come from the window? 

She looked outside. There wasn't anyone there. 

She opened the window and looked from side to side. Still nothing. Just the smell of sulfur.

Confused, she shrugged and closed the window back, going to finish her book.

The next day, her father seemed... off. Irritable, even. 

The trend continued for about a week, with her father just getting angrier and angrier, until he finally snapped and back-handed her mother.

They fought while the girl hid in her room, crying harder with every glass breaking, and every scream or shout.

She woke up the next morning to a hole in the master bedroom, but her mother otherwise unharmed. 

Knock... knock... knock...

Her head whipped to the window. There was the face of a small boy, around her age, staring back at her.

He waved.

She shook her head.

Knock... knock... knock...

He rapped on the window.

She shook her head firmly. She'd just made that mistake she wasn't making it again.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It was time. She'd fought against it for so long

  It was time. She'd fought against it for so long, but now, she was putting her foot down. “John. You are absolutely not naming the baby; ‘Justin Thyme’. Please. I am begging. Stop with the joke names. You’re hurting me.” “I’m going to be a dad, Susan, I have to get my funny bones dusted off and oiled up. I’m all rusty from my years of being an edgy shut-in!”  While it was nice to see John glowing and having fun with life again, Susan could not help but wish he would stop with the puns, they were becoming a bit much. “I, for one,” Thomas butted in, bringing the teas into the room, “am a fan of waiting at least until we know the sex for the baby before we decide on a possible name for the gremlin.” John huffed. “You’re not any fun. You don’t have any names in your life that mean something to you, or that you’d always liked as an idea for a future child?” Thomas sat on the couch, blowing on his teacup in thought for a moment. “Well, to be honest, I never thought I’d make it t...
Post a Comment
Read more

This wasn't an ordinary murder

      As the police officer uncovered the body, she knew this was no ordinary murder. The way the body looked drawn up and dry like it'd been weeks since the date of death, despite the body being only a day old told her it had to be some sicko at the least, but more likely, some supernatural entity had killed this young man.     She recovered the body, deciding that forensics could handle the body, and she could give her two cents if asked. She wasn't a detective, after all.     However, she could still investigate the murder. That was her job as a police officer, after all.      She wrote her report, then went back to the station. At the station, she started her research. She looked up anything she could think of that could have done this to the victim.     She researched all manner of cannibalistic monsters. She was there for so long, the shift change happened around her, catching her off guard
Post a Comment
Read more

Fine. You can make the coffee.

  The screeching of tires filled the air, shattering the calm that had previously enveloped the house. An ear-piercing scream was next, rattling the windows. Sticky wetness splattered against her skin and clothes.  This was probably the first time in her life she would ever be grateful she couldn’t see. It was the first time she wished she was deaf too, so she wouldn’t have to hear his nauseating scream-crying. A gasp escaped her lips as she woke. “Fuck…” she ran her fingers through her hair, sitting up, the silk blankets falling around her waist. Breathing out, she lowered her hand back to the bed. She swung her legs over the edge, slipping her feet into her slippers. She entered the kitchen and maneuvered to the coffee pot, but when she went to grab the pot, her hand only grabbed air. “Greg, you mother fucker!”  “Whu- Yeah?” Greg’s confused voice sounded from the couch. “Where is the coffee pot?” “Oh shit.” The rustling of jeans being put on while a grown man wa...
Post a Comment
Read more