Big Rock Little Rock

Prolouge

It was December 12th of 1987. My family, Josh, my son, Abby, my daughter, and Erickson, my husband, all moved into a new house in the middle of the woods. I smile greatfully, mainly because it was super cheap. I look down at my kids.

"This is it!" I exclaim. Josh groans.

"Mom, this place looks haunted."

"What, are you scared?" Abby teased.

Josh rolled his eyes and looked back to the house.

Something swiftly ran across the window on the top floor. Obviously nobody else but me saw it. My face turned pale, but I tried to remain calm.

"Ready?" I ask. Everyone nods. We all grab our stuff and head inside. I heard stomping from upstairs. I look over at Erickson. He didn't hear it?

"Amy? Are you okay?" Erickson looks at me with worried eyes.

"Sí." I force a smile. I rush upstairs with my bags. I look around at all the rooms and walk into the last one. It had a walk in closet with mirrors lining the doors. A huge bed in the corner of the room, and a few dressers.

One thing stood out to me though. A painting. It was a painting of a little girl, frowning, eyes dull, head tilted down, and staring straight into the camera.

I set my bags down and walk over to the painting. I felt weird in it's presence. Like a strange aura were surrounding me. I chose to ignore it and sat on the bed. It seemed stiff, as if nobody had used it in years. I stood back up and went to unpack my clothes into the closet.

As I arrived at the closet I saw another painting. It looked exactly as the other one had. I looked back at the other painting, and back to the one in the closet again. How was it different, though?

I looked between the two again, and when I looked back at the one in the closet, I saw what was different.

This one was a skeleton...

{Half 2}

I ran back downstairs, looking for my kids and husband. I found neither.

"Josh! Abby!! Erickson?!" Tears started forming in my eyes. I ran back upstairs and found Josh lying in the bathroom, in the shower. Blood pooled out of his mouth, and a gash was visible on his left arm. I let tears fall from my eyes as I search for Erickson. I ran back downstairs to find nobody, so I went back upstairs.

I wish I didn't.

There he was, lying out of a doorway.

Dead...

I looked over at the paintings. Both were now on the same wall...

Smiling....

Words: 448