Epilogue

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My parents sobbed more than I did when I was finally taken back to the comfort of my home; by then I was pretty numb to everything, even though it usually would've hurt to see my parents cry like that.

There was a whole line of questioning done by the authorities, asking me things like 'where were the others' and 'do you know who did this to you?'

I didn't say anything to them, not a single word to anyone. I just couldn't, not yet. Everything was still so fresh; I could still hear the agonizing screams; I could still see the crimson red blood of my best friends.

I was obviously exhausted, so I went straight to bed as soon as I could and eventually passed out, enduring a nightmare ridden slumber that caused my tired body to break out into a violent cold sweat.

The air was cold and stale in my bedroom, filled with a silence that was unnerving even for my unconscious state.

Bursting up abruptly in bed, I wiped the sweat from my forehead and took in some deep breathes. Immediately I noticed it was pitch black darkness in my room, and felt a disturbing, anxious feeling bubble up in my stomach.

First night home of course I was still uneasy and a bit traumatized, so I figured I'd go lay down with my parents, just so I wasn't completely alone.

I slowly walked towards the door and hesitantly opened it, allowing some moonlight from the hallway windows to filter in and give me peace of mind.

However, on the other side of the door there was a dingy hallway, one that didn't belong to my childhood home, and my heart immediately dropped to the floor.

Was this some sort of sick dream?

I walked hesitantly down the unfamiliar hallway, even though it was still dark, and the feeling of pure terror was about to swallow me whole.

"Mom?... Dad?" I yelled out tentatively, hoping someone could help me or that this was just another nightmare. Suddenly there was a small chuckle that rung out behind me, and I whipped around, only to see nothing there.

"Welcome back," A scratchy voice said cynically, coming from somewhere in the darkness around me.

Oh no. Oh no oh no... how the fuck did I get back here?

It was dark and silent, an eerily silence. The only thing I heard was the echoed sound of my worn-out sneakers hitting the aged wood floor, and the creaks of the splintered floorboards as I did. Not a single thing was lit, so I held my thin arms out shakily in front of me, feeling and listening for any indication of someone, something.

The shrill sound of a high-pitched chuckle suddenly filled my ears, and I instantly froze, once again looking for something that was lit at all. Panic was inevitable at this point, but I still tried to keep my movements calm instead of frantic, to keep from being found.

The disturbing silence settled around me again, except for the persistent thumping sound of my heart beating in my ears. A small part of me began to feel hopeful; hopeful that I would finally get out of this living hell.

A cold little hand was suddenly placed sternly on my shoulder, and its long nails dug into my pale skin through my white shirt. My shrill shriek seemed to bounce off the walls as pain abruptly shot through my body, feeling the strongest at my shoulder.

The little hand started to pull me back with an unexpected strength. There was a loud thud as my aching body suddenly fell to the wooden floor, echoing in the narrow hallway. I screamed a blood curtailing scream, as the cold hand let go of my shoulder and quickly grabbed ahold of my sneaker clad foot, to drag me.

Sharp splinters pierced my flesh at every point while I was dragged, and a pickaxe quickly came down on my head, efficiently silencing my desperate cries for help.

.....

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I've grown a lot as a writer in the thirteen years since I've wrote this, but I'll always appreciate your love and support ❤️ I wish you happy reading!

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