September 17th, 1977.
I remember that day better than I remember just about anything else. It was pouring down rain, thundering out in the woods somewhere. It didn't matter to me, I was comfortably sitting on the living room chair watching the satellite television and twiddling my 7 year old thumbs, like any other night before mom sent me off to bed.
And so she did, like any other night. She came down the steps, carrying a warm glass of milk and my pills, like any other night.
"Jakey, time for bed sweetie." She said, her voice full of warmth, as always. I got off the couch and turned the tv off, and walked to her, swallowed my pills and drank the milk. Then, I ran up the stairs and straight to my room, jumping onto the bed. I wanted to get there before she did, so she had to tuck me in. And so she did, like any other night. And like any other night, I fell asleep quickly and quietly, but one thing would be off that night.
I wouldn't wake up to the morning sun and the birds chirping, nor my mom or my dad waking me up for school or something, but instead I'd wake up to my mom's body twisted, turned, contorted, mutilated, broken and destroyed in such a vile and unnatural way I'd never be the same again.
YOU ARE READING
The Crows
ParanormalJake Everest wakes up to his mom's body unnaturally broken and defiled and hunts the paranormal that caused it, with just a little bit of voices in his head along the way.
