Prolouge
He plunged the knife deeper and harder into our father, over and over again. My father has stopped screaming by this point, clearly dead. "Stop!" I yelled at the murderer, my brother, Wyatt. He looked at me and with blazing fury he realized that I had just witnessed him kill both our mother and our father, I had just seen him so violent and vicious, killing the only two people in our lives that mattered most.
That's when he bolted my way, eyes aglow like a maniac, I, in turn jumped up from behind the island in our kitchen and took off out the back door. I ran like my life depended on it, because in this case it did; because I knew that he'd kill me just like he did to our parents. I was a small girl, with a thin frame and a height of only five foot; so I could run incredibly fast, but regrettingly not fast enough.
He caught up to me, and instead of just stabbing me right then and their to get it over with, he pushed me with all of his might to the cold, hard ground. The grass was musty, the soil below muddy and wet from the countless days in a row of storms we'd been having. It was late at night, the black sky and broken street lights made it hard to see him standing over me, so I had top squint.
Eventually, I gave up just to cry. I was praying for life, I had yet to live . . . I prayed for a savior as he stood over me, an evil grin etched on his face. He bent down to me now, knees on my arms, just to make sure I couldn't move. "It's your turn now Lisa," he wispeared, savoring every word. He didn't even sound like my brother.
"Why are you doing this Wyatt?" I asked, trying to hold off my death.
"Beacuse," he shrugged, dragging the bloody knife along my goosbump covered arms; soaking me in the blood of our own parents, and mine about to be added to it. He chuckled mischievously, raising his arms above his head, the knife wrapped in both hands to apply as much force as he could.
"I love you," I said, hoping to appeal to the brother I've known for years. He didn't even flinch. Just as he was about to swing his arms down to collide the knife with my chest, I opened my mouth to scream. But soon, Wyatt was no longer on me, he was up and in midair.
I looked and saw a tall, buff man, holding my brother as tight as he possibly could. "Run!" the man wispeared deeply, in a type of starined voice. I took that as my cue, quickly forgetting that he could be in danger to. . . but I ran.
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Teen FictionTwo months after Lisa watched her brother, Wyatt, kill both of their parents and coming an inch away from death herself; she decides to start back at life. But she has a secret, she was saved; and her goal is to find the man who saved her life.
