Shattered

The House

Mason lit up the room with his flashlight and looked around. The room was practically empty without all their old furniture and everything. He could still see everything the way it was. The layout, the couch, Liam's room... Now, there was no furniture, no lights, nothing. Mason sighed and sat his flashlight on the ground facing the ceiling, and the entire room was dimly lit. He took a deep breath as he looked around, and finally he spoke. "L... Liam?" he called out. No response. Surprise, surprise. Mason turned down the hallway and peered at Liam's old room. He slowly and cautiously stepped toward the door and reached forward, swinging the door open and looking inside. It was too dark without the flashlight in the living room to see anything, so he returned to the living room, grabbed his flashlight, and returned. The room was flat empty.  

After closing the door, he turned back to the hallway and spotted the old closet. Its paint wasn't as white as it used to be, and there was still a large crack from where Liam had crashed into it during a visit by his friend. Mason quickly swung the closet door open and examined the silver box that was the circuit breaker. He examined every switch but there were no labels for any of the rooms. "Forget it." He reached up and flipped on all the switches, then he walked around every main room and flipped on the switches. The house was lit up like a Christmas tree, and he shut off the flashlight before continuing to look around.

He turned just past Liam's old bedroom and stared at the bathroom door, then he stepped inside and looked around. The mirror was no longer cracked like it had been a few years back. The mirror was also broken during Liam's playdate. He sighed and left the bathroom, starting back into the hallway, disappointed and relieved he had found nothing. He turned and began to exit the hallway, but something caught his eye, and he froze. He slowly turned back around to where he was facing Liam's door. It was wide open, and he could have sworn he had shut it. He could also see something on the floor that wasn't there before.

Mason slowly stepped into the room and looked down at the square object. He bent down and placed his flashlight on the ground, then flipped over the object and realized it was a photograph. The very same photograph that was by his bed earlier on in the day. However, there was one big difference. Liam had vanished, and in big clear scratches on the photograph's glass were the words Why did you leave me? Something clicked in his head, and suddenly the room seemed a little familiar, but he wasn't sure why.

Mason dropped the photo to the floor and stumbled backwards as the photograph crashed to the ground, shattering into a million pieces and sending glass over the floor. He reached for his pocket and remembered that his pills were gone. He sighed and quickly grabbed his flashlight, gripping it tightly. "It's not real... it's just hallucinations," he whispered. He shook his head and quickly left the room. 

He stumbled his way into the living room and toward the front door. He had to get back to school and take his pills before it got worse. He reached forward and grabbed the door handle, but the door wouldn't budge. It was unlocked, why won't it open? It can't be stuck.  At that moment, the room went dark, and the lights were gone. The only sound in the air was the trembling breath of fifteen-year-old Mason. Mason struggled through his labored breathing and flipped on his flashlight, quickly making his way over to the circuit breaker. Everything was still flipped on. He tried re-flipping the switches, but nothing happened. "It's... just an electrical problem," Mason told himself. 

He closed the closet door and looked around the hallway. Just when he was finally convinced it was a coincidence, something ran his blood cold. There, just mere feet away from where he was standing, was Liam. His body was pale, and his clothes were stained with dried blood. Mason jumped back, startled as a tear rolled down his cheek. He quickly spun away and closed his eyes before slowly lowering his hands and turning back around. The hallway was empty. He struggled to grab his flashlight off the floor with his trembling hands, then felt something on his face. He slowly walked into the bathroom and leaned over the sink, peering at himself in the mirror. Blood was slowly pouring from the right nostril of his nose.