(Written: 12-14-21)
I opened up the front door very carefully and found myself slamming it back shut. My hand still lingered on the doorknob, shaking ever so slightly. I wondered if I should open it again. I turned the knob, wondering if it had seen me and if it was waiting for me.
I found myself closing it once again. As my mind replayed the scene, I began to deny it. There was no way. What I had seen was horrific. He stood over a body, twitching. His dirty blonde hair, tainted with blood, which was also splattered across his clothes. Did he see me?
"Maisy" I felt myself freeze up, hearing him speak. His voice was muffled, but I could still understand what he was saying. He was saying my name. He was in front of the door and when I felt the knob turn, I knew I had no choice.
I turned and dashed through the cold snow. I could hear him behind me, trying to catch up to me.
(That's all)
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Short Stories
Historia CortaI'm in a creative writing class at my high school. We write a lot of short stories and I wanted to share them here. So, I hope you like them.
