𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 || 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 - 𝐍𝐞𝐚𝐫 ||

𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜

Although PTSD tormented you for years now, providing you with terrible nightmares and flashbacks to the day of your trauma. It was safe to say that no nightmare had ever been as vivid as the one you were currently having. Like a lucid dream, you felt conscious, and it was becoming hard to believe that this was reality.

You woke up in your room in your house, looking around to see that it was still dark, with only the moonlight slipping in between closed curtains, and providing the only light in the room.

"Huh, how did I get here"
you questioned out loud, cautiously getting out of bed and being sure to avoid creaky floorboards as you walked out of your room and down the stairs. Everything seemed normal, you felt normal, as though you had just gotten out of bed late and were still fatigued as you went downstairs. Sounds could be heard from your position, and you tip toed across the hallway into the living room where you felt the noises had came from.

Peering into the living room, you squinted in the dark, unable to see very clearly. You could make out a few dark figures which were the furniture and other items, but without any lights on, it was hard to try and identify items by name. Stepping forwards, you felt your feet step into a liquid, warm liquid, one that didn't feel like water, and your stomach twisted painfully, sending a wave of nausea to wash over you as you looked down.

You had stepped into blood, a pool of it, and it left a trail leading further into the room, and around the corner where the living room and kitchen connected.

It felt as if you had no control over your feet as you followed the trail, a voice in the back of your head begged you to stop, but for some reason you couldn't seem to prevent yourself from following the trail of crimson, which seemed to be staining everything.

The air stunk of death, increasing the nausea which you felt, and in some instances you held your breath for a couple of seconds, feeling like you would throw up if you didn't.

With wide eyes, you turned the corner, and at the same time, every single light in the room switched on. Revealing the sight which you wished to burn from your memories the day it had happened. the sight that had haunted you for 10 years, and was continuing to do so without remorse. The sight of your parents mangled bodies on the floor, blood oozing from the many slashes that had been occurred to them, it was hard to tell which one was the death blow, there were too many to count. A droplet landed on your face, and hesitantly you looked up, horrified beyond words could express. As you saw the body of your older brother which had been pinned up to the ceiling with an assortment of knives which were taken from the kitchen drawers.

"Come on out little girl, I won't hurt you, I promise. Maybe"
A sinister voice was heard back in the living room, and you ran back, almost slipping on the blood as you saw the figure of who killed your parents. The murderer advancing to a corner of the room where an armchair was, and also a little girl who hid behind it. A little girl who looked like you.

A little girl, which was you.

The younger version of yourself, the memory of the four year old version of yourself scrambled around on the floor, fiddling with the glock she held in her hand as she tried her best to reload it with shaking hands. It was your brothers gun, he had bought it out of self defense after the murders had started to take place in your neighbourhood, only it was too far for him to grab as the sadistic criminal stole his life before he had the chance to use it.

"Are we playing hide and seek now?"
The younger you whimpered as he grew closer to your hiding spot, clutching the gun to her chest after successfully managing to reload it. Mumbling to herself she closed her eyes and curled into a ball for a few seconds, before crawling on the ground again and moving around the chair she hid behind as the murder tried to move behind it on the opposite side. Once he was behind the chair, the younger you popped up from opposite the piece of furniture, pushing the chair with all of her might to try and trap the man.