Drifting alone through the breeze

Necrophobia

I'm pretty sure nobody would blame me for running and screaming out of the basement after that gruesome scene
and that's exactly what I did.
I could tell that my mind couldn't take that much more of this, soon my sanity would truly have left me but I couldn't think to hard on that, escape first, serious mental trauma second.
I escaped the basement perfectly fine but that wasn't the hard part, the hard part was finding an exit.
If a door could disappear so could any other but I had to keep my hope burning or I'd soon give up.
"Their is always a way out" I chanted silently to attempt to ease some of my fear, it wasn't really working but it was better than nothing.
I soon came to the only places I could go, garage or upstairs... each had a plus but the garage was closer.
I entered the garage only to find something that was missing earlier, a pair of corpses I knew very well, my parents...
I could tell it was them only because of their clothes as their flesh littered the rest of the garage... good thing is that the garage door opened so way out, bad news was that I was covered in blood...
I could either get out and be found covered in blood or die... I ran as fast as I could outside of the house... after that everything was fine again, I was found by the police, told the story, and was instantly sent to a mental hospital... every image engraved into my mind.
I knew for a fact that I'd never be the same...