In the dead of night, a frightening woman attacks her family. This is the short tale of her escape.
My covers come up to my chin as I try and hide from the girl just outside my door. From the moonlight that illuminates my small room, i can tell she wears rags as clothing, dirty ones at that. Her hair is a dark tangled mess that hangs in front of her paper white face. I heard the screams coming from my siblings’ room already and the gurgling sound that escaped their lips that told me their throats were slit and they choked on their own blood. I know I’m next. I just don’t know when. Every instinct in my body tells me to scream for help, but I’m so frightened, whenever I try, my throat tightens to the point where it becomes painful. So instead, I lie here. Waiting.
I must have fallen asleep sometime during the long night. When I woke up, she wasn't there anymore. I silently crawled from my bed to my door and slipped my hand through the crack between the door and the wall, and pulling it to open it. There are wet foot prints where she was standing, but she was not there. I go over to my siblings’ room, and they are lying there, on the floor, mouths open in a silent scream. Their throats had been cut. Choking on a scream, I run from that room, into my parents’. My mother rolled over in her sleep, causing the old bed to groan. I began debating whether to wake her and tell her about her children’s death, or let her sleep peacefully,as it would probably be the last time she ever would.
I race down the stairs, determined to find my father. He is in the computer room, playing a game of solitaire. I hear my dog coming down the stairs and I’m worried about her safety. “Go back.” I tell her. “Go to Mom.” She stays, sitting on the landing, with a blank look on her face. I walk into the computer room. “Dad,” I say through tears. “Dad, we have to go. Now. Get out of the house. Alice and Riley… They’re gone. They’re dead.” He stops playing his game and turns around in his swiveling chair to stare at me. “Okay.” He says, wiping away tears of his own. He gets up, but the lights suddenly go out, so he stumbles. I grab on to his hand and pull him towards the door.
The first sight I see is my dog. Lying down, seemingly fine. But, as I get closer I see a fine red line around her neck and a pool of dark liquid around her dead body. I turn and see the woman behind the bar, sitting on a stool. I grab my father’s hand and take him to the bottom of the stairs, but she is faster. Her face appears in front of mine, her veins a bluish-purple against her paper white face. I grab her jaw and push the indentation where the jaw meets the neck until her fragile jaw caves in. “Mom!” I call for her, running toward her room. Shaking her awake and pulling her toward the door, where we escape, and run into the cold night. I run until it feels as if my legs will give out from under me and I collapse into tears.