When the door slammed, I had to run. There was no telling how long until that door was going to burst open from the other side. I pulled my desk in front of the cellar door as a last attempt, my whole body weak and trembling, like the door is now.
I darted to the front door of our house as the pounding on the door became more patterned. The tears poured out, making my head ring from the memories. Memories of when I was little and my mom only told me to open the front door to her specific pattern knock of a simple rhythm.
I stumbled outside and slammed the front door closed so hard behind me that the whole door frame shook.
I bolted, my feet pounding the pavement of the road. A fury of the past events flooded through my mind. They played as I ran further and further from home:
I jarred awake from my sleep in an instant. Voices. Muttering. Whispering.
What's going on? I thought, refraining from lifting my head or moving. I slept in the cellar which was "my room" of the house that I shared with my mom. She normally got home really late. Was she home to know there is an invader? How did they get into my key locked cellar?
The voices seemed to just be one person when I listen more carefully. My bed had a gap between its long edge and the wall. I could easily roll into the gap and under the bed to hide.When the voice gets a little louder, I do so as swiftly as I can. My heart pounded under the bed, uncertain if they saw my movement. Probably. They must have been insane. I couldn't interpret what they were saying. It drew quiet when they stopped muttering.
Blood pounded in my ears as I heard footsteps. Where is it? Where is it? Where is it? I thought. I felt around under my bed. My knife that my dad hand crafted for me a long time ago, where is it? I felt it next to my foot after squirming under the bed and kicked it up to my hand.
"Hello." A voice said.
It was my mom's voice.
When I was about to come out, she said something else.
"My name is Penny." That is my mom's name. Why would she be telling me this?
"Come out my little Zachary."
I obeyed. When I came out, I looked up at her in the middle of the room and immediately held up my knife. This creature was not my mom. It was skinless, and dripping with what appeared to be black blood. It had black hair and dark eyes, just like my mom's. I was my mom's body, with the same voice I realized.
"This can't be." I gasped.
Neither of us made any sudden movements for a short while. Then she darted towards me.
Knife in hand, I stabbed her right in the heart. My own mother. She fell. I ran.
I pounded up the stairs to the cellar door as fast as I could. She was following somehow. Faster that me.
Immortal? This being? What had happened to my mom?
When cellar door slammed, I knew I still had to run.
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