Truth Hides Behind Lies

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
After moving into an awful, new mysterious house on her fathers supposed 'business trip', Katelyn confronts the rather shocking past with a intense, sharp stab.

Submitted: September 16, 2012

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Submitted: September 16, 2012

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 The time had come for my dad to break the news. I already new what he was going to say from the look on his face. We were leaving. A new home, a new start, he would say. I didn’t complain, I was used to it; moving around had become a regular occurrence in my life. It was just me and my dad. My mother died in a car accident when I was three years old. My dad didn’t talk much about her; I just had a few photographs. My dad was very busy, constantly relocating to different cities on business trips; apparently, it was unsafe for us to be apart, so he always took me along with him. But this time it was different, he wouldn’t tell me where we were going. This could only mean that he knew I wouldn’t like it there. He was right.
 
  I opened the heavy, metal gate and walked quietly and steadily towards the front door. It was large and made of dark oak. Its iron hinges worn and rusty. Just from a glance I could tell that this place was going to be filled with cobwebs and spiders and bookshelves crowded with old, never read novels; their titles hidden under years of gathered dust. I stepped inside, greeted by an old, opulent staircase that seemed to stretch for miles. Six doors stood in the hall, leading into huge rooms. I reached for the door handle closest to me; it was stiff and covered in dust. As it turned, it creaked loudly, sending echoes rippling through the huge, empty hall. I peered through the doorway. The room was dark and dingy; the smell was like a cellar that was the habitat of foul, dirty rats and wretched bugs that infested on the damp ridden walls. I crept into the room, floorboards groaning under me. A thin beam of light seeped through a gap in the boarded window. It was enough to see the shabby, tattered furniture which lay on a hard wooden floor. It was plainly obvious that nobody had been in this house for many years.
 
 “Katelyn”
“I’m in here dad”, I called. He stood in the doorway with an apologetic look on his face. “Sweetheart, I know it’s not what you were expecting but we’ll just be here a couple of weeks and then we can go back to our old house, I promise. I don’t like it here either”
“Its fine, I’m used to it”, I lied. I didn’t mind the moving house part; it was the house we were staying in which bothered me. Was this place even liveable? Dad must have caught my expression; he persisted to try and convince me not to be angry with him.
“I know you’re upset, but this was the only house available in the area” he said nervously. “You know how important this trip is. If all goes well I’ll get the promotion!” I stayed silent. “The cleaners will be here soon. I think they’ll be here for the whole week looking at the state of this house, ha!” My dad and humour never went down well. “Why don’t you go and look around upstairs? You’ve got first pick of your bedroom”, he winked at me and smiled. I nodded and headed for the stairs.
 
 I stared blankly at the clock, 3.00am it read. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fall asleep. My mouth felt like the Sahara desert; deprived of moisture, dry and parched. I jerked the covers off my body and trudged towards the door in the pitch dark surroundings. Just outside my window a light started to flicker. As I looked out to the street, it stopped. I was about to turn around and head downstairs for a drink, but instead I froze, horrified. My body numb with fear.
 
 Across the road, a dark, hooded figure stood in the grim shadows. Its eyes preyed on mine. The only thing I could make out was a disgusting, deep, red scar buried into its face. My heartbeat sped with terror, my blood rushed through my veins, adrenaline building up inside me. I took a step back, not able to look away from it, but something on the floor tripped me. I stumbled helplessly to the ground. But seconds later, when I stood again, there was nothing in sight. The street was empty and silent. I climbed into my bed, pulled the covers over me and pretended it was all a bad dream.
 
 “Katelyn, you look awful!” 
“I didn’t get any sleep”, I yawned.
“I made you breakfast”, dad said, pointing at the bacon butty on the kitchen worktop. “Thanks dad.” I smiled at him kindly and then picked up my bacon butty. “Cleaners did a good job”, I mumbled, my mouth half full. The wooden floors were polished enough that I could almost see my reflection. The kitchen worktops were spotless and everything looked spectacular. The awful smell had been replaced with the scent of lavender. “I only hire the best. Anyway, I have to go to work, but I’ll be back early. Your tea is in the microwave”, dad explained. He kissed my forehead lightly, headed out, and shut the door behind him.
 
 It was very quiet now there was nobody here with me, too quiet. I decided to head out and take the bus up to town; I hadn’t been out since I moved here. I went upstairs on the bus and sat right in front of the window. Reaching down into my pocket, I grabbed my earphones, plugged them into my ipod and placed them into my ears. Music was one of the few things that brought joy to my life. Once my earphones were in, everything else was blocked out. I had no idea which stop to get off at, but I figured I would follow everyone else. Most of the people on the bus got off a couple of stops after, and indeed, it was the town centre.
 
 A lot smaller than London, my first thought was; although a lot had to be the understatement of the year. All I could see were a couple of clothes shops, a charity shop, a small restaurant, a café, a tiny hairdressers and a pub flowing with people. Cheers roared from outside it, peeking through the window I could see there was a football match playing on a big screen; everyone’s eyes focused intently on the screen as the ball drew closer towards the net.
 
 Dad had given me some money earlier so I could go out shopping. I was starting my new school soon and I decided I wanted to get some nice, new clothes. I knew my choice would be extremely limited since there were only about two decent stores. Strolling into the shop I was greeted by a tall lady wearing a pink dress that flowed down to her ankles. A wide, welcoming grin beamed across her face, “Do you need any help?” She said sweetly. “I’m fine thank you. I’m just having a look around”, I smiled back.
 
 Over in the corner of the shop I saw some glamorous heels that matched perfectly with the dress I got for my seventeenth birthday. I walked over to them and picked them up off the shelf. I turned towards the lady who had asked if I needed help and shouted politely, “Excuse me, have you got these shoes in a size 6 please?”
“I’ll just go and have a quick look”, she said. I sat down on the chair that was next to me and stared outside as people passed by the shop window. It was in the corner of my eye that I saw it; across the road, the red scar slashed across a face that was looking directly at me. Now in broad daylight, it wasn’t just a figure, it was a woman; a woman who was obviously following me.
 
 Her hair was a dirty blonde, almost brown colour; it looked exactly like mine except it was shorter. I contemplated on the idea of confronting her. The desperation to know what she wanted was escalating inside me. The lady getting my shoes hadn’t come out of the stock room yet. Disrespectfully, I ran out of the shop, ready to come face to face with my stalker.
 
 I stood there, scanning, searching. A glimpse of her heading down an alleyway was enough; I started to sprint after her, not even thinking about the dangers that could lie ahead. What if she was a murderer? After minutes of running around frantically, I gave up. She was nowhere to be seen. Why did she run away? I wondered to myself.
 
 I was at home now, after a short bus ride home. I couldn’t stop picturing her face, her scar. My stomach rumbled angrily, all I’d eaten all day was a bacon butty at breakfast. I rushed to the microwave and opened it. Inside was a ready meal; macaroni cheese. I finished it all in a couple of minutes and bolted straight upstairs.
 
 When my dad came home from work I was still upstairs; asking myself who this person could be. Suddenly, a loud crash filled the air. It came from downstairs. “Dad? Are you okay?” I shouted. No answer. Slowly, I crept down each step with caution. I heard an unfamiliar voice; it was a woman’s voice. When I heard the conversation, I froze stiff, unable to move any part of my body.
 
 “Please, don’t do this, we can talk about it”, my dad pleaded. She held a knife to his throat, her expression venom. I gulped loudly, my body shaking with fear. “You took her away from me!”
“How did you get out? You’re crazy! You need to go back to hospital.” Took her away? Was she talking about me? Did my dad know this mad woman? “I’M NOT CRAZY!” she screamed violently and slapped my dad across the face, hard. I couldn’t just sit here and watch. I crept passed the door unnoticed, slid quietly into the kitchen and grabbed a sharp knife.
“Who is she dad?” I stood in the doorway. Both heads snapped up in my direction; my dad’s eyes burning into mine. The woman suddenly dropped the knife and ran over to me. As she was about to wrap her arms around me, my hand rose quickly to push her away. The knife I was holding pierced deep into her stomach. She didn’t scream in pain or even move; she just stared into my eyes. 
 
 Her eyes slowly filled with water. One tear rolled over the edge and then her eyelids shut. She spoke quietly; dying, “I am your mother.” And then she collapsed to the ground; dead. A pool of blood formed around her. I couldn’t move; I couldn’t do anything.


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