As I walk into the pack house, it's quiet. To quiet. There's no sound of teenagers talking or arguing. There's no little kids running around. No parents cooking.
Walking into the hallway. "Hello!" I yell out hoping people would answer, but no one does.
Looking into all the room on the first floor, I see no one. Stepping to the stairs, I climb up them. Getting to the top. I hear a sound, but I can't pen point where it's coming from. It's like a hatchet on meat.
Fear fills me. Not wanting to go to the sound, but I need to know where it's coming from.
I feel like I'm in a movie, and when I walk to the sound, the audience is screaming for me not to go there.
As I step closer, the sound gets louder. In front of me is a cracked door with a bloody door knob.
As I go to push the door open, I see that my hand is shaking. Pushing the door open, I see the back of a head. The hair is stringy and black. The familiar night gown with holes. The person is on his knees. A hatchet is raised over his head, as he brings it down, I look to the ground.
Pain filled green eyes likes at me. His black hair has blood in it. His face, a bloody handprint on his cheek.
He screams as the hatchet embeds in his chest. I scream falling to my knees. Crying has me turning my head. In a crib is a beautiful little boy about one. He's standing on his chubby little legs.
Henry sees that I'm looking at the little boy. Smirking an ugly smirk, he slowly stands up. Grabbing hold of the hatchet from Matthew's chest, he rips it out.
Matthew's blood drips from the hatchet as he strutts over to the beautiful little boy, the hatchet swinging in his hand.
As he gets to the crib, he raises it. Swinging it back, as he brings it forward. I scream.
My body jolts, my breathing stops, as a scream leaves my mouth. The door slams open, but I don't know whose there as my body begins to thrash around.
Arms wrap around me, I feel the sparks but I can't for the life of me stop thrashing and screaming. The images still in my head, replaying.
Hands goes to hold me down, but that doesn't stop my body from thrashing around.
I hear voices screaming all around me. I try to breathe, but air won't fill my lungs.
Something presses to my mouth, holding my nose air is pushed into my mouth, filling my lungs.
When I can breathe again, the thrashing calms down a bit, but not much. I hear screaming, I didn't realize until now that it's coming from my mouth.
I feel a prick, before I start to get drowsy. The last words out of my mouth before the darkness takes over, rings throughout the house and my ears.
"Sleep! No!"
