Gone in the Morning

Chapter 11: Burned

I walked into the kitchen and found my mom standing in front of a spilled jar of rice. On top of the rice was a strange object that my mom pointed to. "Dante! What is that?"

I shrugged my shoulders, not entirely sure what she was pointing to.

 Kane came around and grabbed my collar then jerked me towards the spilled rice. "You don't see that?" Kane pressured my neck down.

I could see it all right, but I didn't put it there. Laying on top of the rice was something that resembled a fake finger. It was dry and all wrinkled up and missing the fingernail. "I didn't do that," I quickly stated. 

"A fake finger!" My mother pinched her forehead. "This is stopping right now! Dante, I don't want any more scary stunts or anything going around in this house. Do you hear me? You are done."

Kane was still holding onto my shirt, so I snatched away from him. He looked at me like he was going to grab me again but didn't. 

"Sweep this mess up," my mother went on. "And throw away that fake finger."

My mother walked out of the kitchen, but Kane stopped her. "What are you doing? Start dinner."

My mother backed away from him then placed her hands in the air. "He just scared the hell out of me. I can't right now. My heart is pounding."

She then walked out of the kitchen. Kane glared at me while shaking his head. As soon as my mom was out of sight, Kane balled up a tight fist and swung it across my face. I was in too much pain to yell but quickly held a hand to my thumping eye. To make sure I wouldn't call out for my mom, he kneeled down in front of me and placed his sweaty hand over my mouth.

"If you make a sound," he whispered. "you're done. I'm not going to let some little brat spoil my meal. Your mother will come in here and make me something to eat. And while you're cleaning the basement, make up a pretty damn good lie about your eye."

I couldn't believe he had hit me. I had no words. Was this even the same person?

I didn't bother to get up since Kane was still glaring at me. I knew he was capable of hurting my mother and I if she got involved. He wasn't that abusive when it came to my mom, but when it came to me, the abuse was mild. However, this was extreme, but I didn't want my mother involved. Kane was in a bad mood, and I didn't have a phone to call 911 if anything happened. Not that they would even come.

After I was done sweeping, I went over to the door in the kitchen that led to the basement. When I went inside to check it out, I found a massive room full of old plastic bags, a deep freezer, some shoes, and a carpet that smelled of mold and mildew. The air around me smelled like wet clothing and carpet, perhaps even cat pee. Our basement was a home for mice. Mice hotel.

Using a piece of wood I had found on the floor, I picked it up and begin poking at bags in case a mouse jumped out of nowhere. Luckily I was fond of rodents, so I wasn't afraid of anything jumping out like an animal or a raccoon or something. What I was scared of was the unnatural jumping out me instead. I quickly rid my mind of the scary thoughts and begin cleaning.

There were some cool things in a black plastic bags like old antiques, a typewriter, some notebooks full of pictures, and kitchen material that could make up for the things we had missing. I was surprised my mom didn't dig through the stuff already. In other bags were broken pots, cut pictures, ripped clothes, candles, and some old light bulbs. I threw the trash away and kept the good stuff in case my mom wanted to look for it. 

As I was getting ready to lift up trash and take it outside, I found someone that was not my mother or Kane standing in front of the basement door.

 It was her. 

The girl from the corn fields. The same girl with the white torn clothes, cold brown eyes,  curly brown hair, freckled face, tan skin, and naturally pink lips. Aside from the tattered clothing, she was beautiful. However, she took a step towards me, and another, and another, and began to change. She was missing body parts, like a left ear, a patch of elbow ski and teeth. She had broken bones, flaking skin, dislocated joints, and lips that were now blue.

"You're wasting time," she said in a cruel and harsh tone. Her teeth were closed together as she talked to me. She snatched the bag out of my hand and threw it on the ground. "Why can't you find me!" Her voice raised so loud that my eardrums trembled. 

"I can see you!" I yelled.

My body was in full panic mode, and I was ready to run. Before I knew it, her hand was already grasping at my wrist. I felt my blood stop at the pressure of her grip. She began dragging me out of the basement and into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, she led me over to the garbage where she placed my hand inside of the dirty trash bin. I tried to get up, but she stepped on my knees, and I buckled to the floor.

"Get off of me!" I yelled out trying to snatch my self away from her. 

The girl didn't budge. With her cold dead eyes, she opened her mouth and began to scream. Her screams, however, did not come from her mouth, but from behind me. Her brown eyes rolled back into her skull until I could see nothing but the whites. Each freckle replaced by blood spots that ran off her face and onto her clothing. I let out a scream as the skin on my wrist felt hot, and I heard it sizzling. 

"Mom!" I screamed.

"Dante?" My mother walked into the kitchen and saw me on the ground. She quickly kneeled down and reached out for my arm. "Why are you screaming? And what happened to your arm?"

I was so shook that when my mother touched me, I jolted away froom her. "It hurts!" I cried. Tears began running down my tears. My mother was asking me what happened, but I could only cry. The pain was too intense.

"Come on," my mother said. "We're going to the doctor."