The Anathema

Chapter 3: Friends

"Who are you?" I jump at the tiny voice echoing in the house. I spin around, crouching down, my hand hovering above my knife. A little girl that does not look a day older than 5 stands at the doorway. Those big, round, brown eyes stare at me, unblinking. Two tiny black plaits rest on her small, squared shoulders. She wears an all white dress, with small floral details on the bottom. Her dress doesn't seem to move with the wind, and her feet are so close together I'm amazed she hasn't lost her balance. Her hands are placed neatly, right over left, in front. I slowly stand up straight and lower my hand.

"Why, you are the person on the news," She answers her own question, or at least I think she did. Her mouth either moved too fast or didn't move at all. I have to look around to confirm that she and I are the only ones here.

"What news...?" I ask, pretending that I don't know what she's talking about. I hunch up my body, ready to run at any given moment.

"Aren't you the one that murdered his entire foster family?" she asks softly, yet it rings, sound wave after sound wave, throughout the entire house. Fear immediately fills my lungs, my head starts pounding so loudly I have to squint to keep my vision. I expect to see the girl look afraid, or taken aback, but she doesn't. Instead, she tilts her head, as if she had just asked me what I had for lunch.

"Yes," I say, still puzzled at her composure. "Aren't you in the least bit afraid?"

"What's there to be afraid of?" She asks, face expressionless. I'm convinced this girl does not have a single muscle in her face. Not afraid? This young child? Then it hits me. That's exactly why she is not afraid at all. She's just a kid. She must not understand the meaning of death, or what murder means. I let go of the breath I've been holding this entire time, and the house comes back into focus.

"Nothing," I say. "It was nice meeting you, go along now." I give her a smile. Or at least I think I do. I can't ever really be sure with this girl, seeing how she doesn't even so much as twitch. She has been standing so still and perfectly this entire time. If she had not tilted her head, I would have assumed she is a doll.

She's so peculiar. I have so many questions about her. Like how is her dress so stiff? How is her face so stiff? Why is she here instead of in school? But I bite back all those questions because I want her to leave. Those are questions to deal with another day. All I want to do is collapse on the wooden floor and sleep.

"It was nice to meet you too," she says, before turning around like a soldier and walking off. Even the way she walks is peculiar. Technically it's not the way she walks. It's the fact that her dress is so stiff it bends only forward or backward with her walking, so it makes her walking look so odd.

I sure hope I don't see her ever again.

God damn it. Day 1 and I've already been spotted. I don't really feel like moving. I lie down on the floor and stare at the ceiling. I don't think I can last long, I'll have to keep moving from place to place I guess.

I can help you. The sinister voice is back. I hit my own head, as if hitting it would somehow make it jump out of my brain and shut up.

"Yeah? Well look where your help has gotten us!" I nearly shout, but I quickly cover my mouth to lower my volume.

You know everything I did was to protect us. You know you need me. I can help you.

There is silence in my brain, but I can feel him watching me. His shadow is hovering around me, waiting for the chance to strike. I hesitate. He isn't wrong. Every time I've let him take control, I've ended up somewhere safe. And that's why I'm still alive.

So I close my eyes. And my eyes glint red.

...

When I'm awake, I'm in the bathroom. Does he have a thing for bathrooms, or what? But when I look in the mirror, the face that's looking at me isn't the same. It's completely different.