ONE SHOTS

I think my dead family is trying to murder me.

I'm a bit new to writing this genre, but I'm a horror fanatic. If you have any tips or short story ideas feel free to comment and let me know!

TW: Gore

Today is the anniversary of the day my family was murdered.

One year ago in Savannah, GA. I witnessed the death of my mom, dad, and eight year old brother Jamie. No matter how hard I try, I can't get the pictures of it out of my head. The blood that splattered across the kitchen floor as my mother's throat was slit, or the knife that had been lodged so deep in my dad's chest cavity that he was dead upon impact.

My brothers. . . His was the most gruesome. The unidentifiable murderer had broken one of the legs off of our dining chairs, before stabbing the splintered wood through Jamie's right eye.

Every time my eyes close I can hear their screams, feel their blood, and sometimes, even their pain.

I felt like a coward watching from the closet, but the fear had encompassed my entire being. I couldn't bring myself to move no matter how hard I tried.

I remember the person leaving, but I still waited a good hour before emerging from the dark space.

I checked all of their pulses, even though I already knew the answer. They were all dead. Everyone I've ever loved was gone just like that.

I ran up the stairs to my bedroom and started packing a bag of clothes. I didn't know what else to do. I quickly washed the blood from my hands and changed into something that wasn't stained with their blood. Before I decided to leave, I hesitantly snuck into my parents bedroom and rummaged through their drawers. I felt horrible, but I took anything that could get me some money.

I just needed to get away.

I put my blonde hair into a tight, scalp aching ponytail, threw my bag over my shoulder and sprinted out to my car. I was lucky enough to have a full tank of gas, as I drove for nearly six hours straight. I didn't feel safe stopping anywhere near where I lived.

There was only a few miles until my tank was going to hit empty, but before I knew it I was at a pawn shop somewhere in Virginia. It was a sketchy place, so they didn't bother questioning why I had so much jewelry. He didn't even ask for my ID. I knew the guy was ripping me off, but I didn't care. It wasn't important.

He gave me five thousand dollars for everything, and I left with a smile.

As I sat in my car for the next few hours staring aimlessly out the window, I felt lost. I was supposed to start college after summer was over, but now. . . That doesn't seem like its in the books for me. No more friends, no summer parties or boys, no family. . . Just me.

Over the next week, I found an abandoned cabin somewhere in the Appalachian mountains. The forest was eerie, but I needed a place to live. I didn't know why I was hiding, I wasn't guilty of anything. . . it just felt like something I needed to do. Like there was an invisible force calling for me to come here. I couldn't quite place my finger on it.

Of course part of me wanted to stay with my family and call the police, but the other side of me needed to run. Maybe it was out of fear, or shock. I wasn't sure. How do I know the police wouldn't blame me for their murder? I didn't want to spend the rest of my life in a prison cell. Especially for a crime I didn't commit.

Soon, the days were rapidly slipping by. Hours turned into days, which turned to weeks, then months, and finally. . . One full year had passed.

The days, they were getting strange.

I hear things at night. I want to say it's people I hear, but even thinking that makes me feel crazy. Sometimes I think it's my brother, other times I don't recognize the voice. One day it'll be my mom, the next it sounds like a demon sent from the furthest depths of hell.