Present Day
"Alright Anna , the microphone is recording. Go ahead and tell me about that day."
"I was never the most socialble kid growing up.
I scared my parents. I know I did."
15 years ago
The sky started to turn dark by the time I reached home.
My faced that was once covered in mud now burned with water. My left eye ,now , probably started to grow a rim of violets ,reds and blue's.
The house looked like any suburban dream household- to perfect to be happy, had the kitchen lights on.
Oh god , what if they see my face? What If they ask about it?
...What if I want them to ask about it?
No!
no.
I brush my hair using my fingers and quickly use my camouflage hoodie to cover my face.
Maybe I'll blend in this way,that didn't last long, as I thought of the earlier events of today.
I quietly burst into the house and dash for the stairs that lead to my room. Before the final sprint to my room , my father stops me.
"Where have you been? Do you have any idea how stressed out your mother was? Is? " He took a deep breathe before he continued his rant.
To be honest I didn't pay attention to him.
Instead I tried to see how many birds I could count as they paraded through the streets with their dance routines in the sky.
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I quietly ate dinner while my parents stared at me waiting for a response they knew they were never going to get. I stared back waiting for the question I knew they will never ask. We eneded eating that night having nothing to say, but so much to think about.
As I lie in my diary about my day, I hear a knock at my door.
"Can I come in?" My father asks.It's more of a command if you think about it really. He's not asking to come in, he's telling me that he is.
"Yes." I said , my voice cracking at the vowel.
He quickly ruffles on the doorknob and walks in, closing the door behind him. This was a private conversation, I must have thought.
"I know that 9th grade isn't easy, for anybody." He said while he loudly sat on the edge of my bed facing toward me.
"Remember, when you we 10 and we used to paint on the abandoned building we found on Ever Creek road?" He quizzed me.
"Sure, we used to paint alot back then , good times."Old times.
"Well ,I thought that maybe we could start working on an art project together again. You know, if you still want to paint with your old man." He snorted.
"How goods the pay?" I grilled.
"How goods the painter?" He teased. We both laughed at this. The laughter echoed through my room , and turned into a little chant of father-daughter bonding.
"A little rusty , but a few sketches and I'll be good to go." I said after a stitch of laughing. My father grinned and pulled out a sketch book from underneath him.
"I thought you'd say that" He said as he handed me the sketch pad.
"Draw to your hearts content, and let me know when you're ready to start the project."
He took one last look at me before he left and said, "People are usually scared of something they don't know.So, that thing becomes the target of interest. Whether it be good or bad." With that he left me, and the door wide open.
I look at the sketch pad next to me and begin to draw.
Maybe if I looked scarier ,they would not dare see me ,look at me , mock me. But that thought is what started it all , what started my rise and downfall, what consumed me.
What destroyed me.
YOU ARE READING
The Rake.
Horror"Why? After all these years of stalking me, tormenting me , watching me. why now? Why only now do you appear again. Is this what you wanted? You ,you wanted me to get into this shit show? To dwindle into nothing ,but a sickly person?" Still no resp...
