"Excuse me miss, but may I help you?"
I look up at the stranger with terrified eyes. I don't know him, but I do know that I am lost. I'm scared, and mommy is nowhere.
"Um . . . I'm trying to fine the merry-go-round. My m-mommy is supposed to b-be there,"
"Oh," the man replies, "Let me help you then,"
I know that this man will show me to mommy, but I hear mommy's voice inside my head, "Don't go with him. He's a bad man," she says. I don't want to go with him either.
" No thank you, I'll go by myself," I try to say in my best big girl voice. I start walking away from the man, debating whether to run. Then a meaty hand clamps down over my mouth. My heart races and my palms start sweating. The hand starts dragging me away. I try to scream but nothing comes out, I'm trapped and the man is suffocating me.
As I look back on this memory, I realize how stupid I was to not run. You should've been there, you could've protected me. But now, as Calvin and I sit in this little closet, trying to hide our breathing, the same fear washes over me.
We can hear the man coming down the stairs. His steel toed boots clang and creak on every carpeted step. They echo throughout the seemingly empty basement. I hold Calvin's hand, not wanting to let him go. The man approaches the couch, we can see him through the shutter-like closet doors. He sees the controlers, our movie is still on. The stupid Jennifer girl is sitting in the closet with the heroic guy. I almost feel like laughing at the irony.
The man comes around the cream coloured couch. He's now approaching the mahogany closet where Calvin and I sit. I can smell Calvin's cologne very well now, and if we weren't in this situation, i would've leaned into his shoulder, but I didn't think it appropriate when a man was about to kill us. He comes to the door and puts his fingers against the door, slides them down to the knob and stays there. My breathing has stopped for the moment.
He turns the knob and the door creaks open.
"Run," Calvin whispers in my ear.
I dart out of the closet, temporarily knocking down the man, but he is back on his feet in moments. He goes to the closet where Calvin cowers in fear. So much for my heroic male figure. I stop at the bottom of the stairs. You might ask, why would you stop? RUN! RUN! But the man has Calvin now, and my feet won't move.
This man, this killer, brings the knife down on Calvin's throat.
"Take me, not Calvin!" I scream, but it is too late. I watch the life float out of Calvin's eyes. I'm running again, there is nothing in the basement, and yet my heart is pulling me back to it, to the dead Calvin lying on the floor, surrounded by red rich blood. The thought of it makes me feel like throwing up, but I can't, not now. I run up the stairs of the basement to the front foyer, where Calvin's little sister lies, surrounded in more blood.
If you were here, would you save Calvin? I know you wouldve saved me, but really, there's no saving me now.
I walk over his sister, my white socks now soaked red. I fling open your front door and cringe at the sound it makes when it hits the girls head lying on the floor, but only for a moment, because the man is now up the stairs. I can see the craziness in his eyes. It scares me. I run out of the house and down the street. I keep running, but I don't know how long my legs can run for.
I need to find somewhere to hide, but right now, nowhere feels safe.