I sat at the bottom of the staircase staring intently at the front door. While my eyes were focused on the door, my ears however were focusing on that one delightful sound every child loves to hear. A couple of minutes went by, and the house was just as silent as always. Mom was upstairs having a nap, she doesn't play that much with me anymore. The fish in the bowl that was on an old wooden dresser in the opposite the front door, were just as beautiful as ever. There purple and black fins shimmering in the light like candy wrappers set ablaze. I could spend hours watching them, but I had more important things to focus on.
5 more minutes went by. I was getting frustrated now, I glanced a quick look up at the clock that hung in the hallway. Quarter past three...he's late. I focused my attention at the door again, annoyed that he was late, again. I was beginning to get uncomfortable sitting in this position for so long. I adjusted myself a bit so that my bare feet were hidden away deep in the bright white rug at the base of the stairs. I loved playing with it, each individual strand of fabric tickled as I caressed my toes over it's soft face.
Suddenly I heard movement in the kitchen, I got up off the stairs with a jolt and stood frozen. Who was it? Mom was asleep upstairs, she couldn't have snuck down the kitchen. Even though I knew it wasn't her, I instinctively called out " Mom?...Is that you?" No reply, yet the scuffling and movement continued. I was scared now, but even so I creeped out of the hallway and made my way slowly towards the living room, fully conscious of the creaking sound my feet made on the cool wooden floorboards. I peeked around the corner of the doorframe and scanned around to make sure that everything was in order. The trophies still in the cabinet. The television was turned off. My dads books all neatly organized in alphabetical order on the bookshelf. Nothing seemed out of place, so I ventured into the living room keeping my eyes set firmly on the door at the back which led into the kitchen. The door was slightly ajar, so I was able to see through to the kitchen, but not much.
I could still hear a faint noise of movement and scuffling coming from within. So instead of being a man and charging in, I decide to do the most logical thing, throw a fruit at the door. In the middle of the living room surrounded by several couches and the television was a glass table which had a bowl of fruit on it. I grabbed an apple, aimed carefully at the door, and chugged it. It managed to hit the door and landed gracefully, by an apples standard, at the front of it. The movement in the kitchen stopped. The house was dead silent once more. I stared at the door. Nothing. The sound didn't commence again, the door didn't suddenly open, nothing happened. I was convinced that I had taken care of the situation and decided that it was just my imagination.
Then I heard the sound that I'd been longing to hear all
afternoon, the sound of my dads keys rattling to open the front
door. I rush back into the hallway and stand in front of the
front door as my dad opens it slowly, as not to wake mum up. My
dad steps into the house and bends down to give me a hug. "Dad!!"
I shout, a bit too loudly as rush to receive his hug.
"Shhh.." He whispers as he motions with his fingers to his mouth that I should keep my voice down. " You know your mother needs her rest"
My dad is a tall well built man, and always wears a fine black suit. He has many of them, all neatly folded in a cabinet upstairs. He never somehow manages to get them dirty, which means less ironing for mom.
"Dad, you did promise today remember?" I whisper, cautious not to
speak to loudly.
"Alright, Alright" He grins, as he reaches into his pocket to fetch out his wallet. He takes out a note and hands it to me. "Now run along and get your Ice-cream, I passed the ice-cream truck a couple of minutes ago on the way home, it should be here any minute now."
I grin as I rush to the shelf on the side of the hall where I kept my sandals. As I bent down and began to fasten them, my dad says "Oh Luke, don't forget to get me one, the one with the marshmallows"
I grin and reply "Okay dad"
I rush out the house and run to the end of the driveway where I stood waiting for the truck to pass by. I could hear it's jingle coming down the street. Every child loves that sound, it's the literal form of joy, sweets and happiness. It was a hot summers day and a few families were outside of their houses doing the usual things you do during the summer. Cleaning their cars, mowing the lawn, throwing a ball around, lounging in the sun. It was a small neighborhood, but the residents somehow made it feel lively. Music was playing from one of the houses across the street, and a couple of old men were playing chess on lounge chairs and an overturned round trash can, they were complaining about the noise from next door. The Ice-cream van magically appeared around the corner and I hailed it down, by flapping and waving my arms like a crazy old chicken. As the truck began to pull up to my driveway, I heard a scream from inside a house. My house. I bolted up past my dads car parked up front and ran into the house, and stopped in the hallway.
"Dad?" No reply "Mom?..." Still nothing. Then a scream of help scarred the dead silence of the house. It was my mom. I ran up the stairs two at a time and stood in front of my moms bedroom door, it stood slightly ajar, and I peered inside. My heart was beating faster than a herd of stampeding stallions. What I saw shocked me senseless. My dad was sprawled on the floor his suit stained with blood, torn in almost every area. His stomach was cut open, revealing his raw fleshy innards. Behind him my mom cowered in fear as a man in a mask loomed over her, carrying a silver knife drenched in blood. My dads blood. I stare at the scene unfolding before my eyes, unable to react. My mom shivering as the man in the mask forcefully grabs her by her hair and lifts her up. At that moment my mom looks straight at me through the crack in the door, and I realize, this will be the last look we share with each other. Her eyes are pink and puffy, either from having just been asleep, or because she was just so afraid. Either way, she was going to die. The man lifted the knife, and in one fluid motion slit her throat. Her eyes were focused on me the entire time, yet now her eyes were dull, the life stripped away from them.
This was enough. I move away from the door and rush downstairs. But as I reach the last step, I trip on the carpet and collapse head first into the wooden table. The last thing I remember before falling unconscious, was laughter. Cruel, sickening laughter.
As I came too, I heard sirens blaring from all directions. I struggled to move, but the pain was unbearable. I opened my eyes and saw the fish bowl, once beautiful with clear water, was polluted with blood, dripping from the top of the staircase. I move my fingers, only to find them wet. I look down and see the carpet stained red.
I let out a long scream, roaring from the depths of my soul, trying it's hardest to keep it's sanity intact. But the sirens were too overwhelming and eventually drowned out my own voice.
<strong><em>Lucifer? Can you hear me? You need to wake up, your having another nightmare again.</em></strong>
My eyes shoot open at the sound of her voice. I'm drenched in
sweat, and I realize my mouth is sore because of all the
screaming I was doing. It was the same nightmare again, only why
is it I can still hear the police sirens? "Hanako, can you hear
<strong><em>Hear what? The police cars?</em></strong>
So I'm not going crazy, I get out of bed slowly, still slightly delirious from being woken up in such a way for the third time this week, and walk up to my window. It's dark in the room but I could see the faint outline of the window thanks to the pulsating red and blue lights from the police cars.
<strong><em>Take it slow, you don't want to collapse again do you?</em></strong>
I ignore her and pull the curtains aside. I stare outside the window and across the street. The police are dragging a man into a squad car, he seems to be unconscious. A woman is cradling a girl, her daughter perhaps? And they are both in tears. My curiosity gets the better of me as keep on staring at them, trying to asses the situation. But standing up this long starts to make my vision fade, and I collapse on floor.
<strong><em>Ugh, not again. Don't you dare say I didn't warn you this time. Fine. Leave me alone again tonight, see if I care.</em></strong>