A Little Mad

Chapter 2

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A chair flew through the patio doors, glass shattered everywhere. Your eyes widened and you took a few steps back as a glass splinter rammed itself into your foot right through the comfortable white bunny slippers that you kept at Casey's.

You let out a cry of pain as you kneeled down inspecting the foot and the wound that the glass splinter had caused.

Casey got up and ran into the kitchen. She ran behind the kitchen island to grab a knife as she heard your cry of pain.

Casey looked down the corridor staring into the darkness. She saw something run across the corridor towards the front door. It looked as if it was wearing all black, from head to toe.

She ran over to the doors from the kitchen, opened the door, and stepped outside. Closing the door after her, she crawled onto the ground, holding the knife in one hand, and the phone in the other.

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You saw Casey run outside as the masked figure towered over you. You then felt a sharp sting, not realizing that you were stabbed. You looked up at the killer as you let out a few groans in pain. He seemed as if he regretted his actions the moment the knife found its way into your stomach, but you were too weak to take a better look at his body language.

Your hand found its way to your stab wound, the cool watery substance you could only think was your blood dripping down your fingers. Just then the smoke of the burning popcorn filled your vision or so you thought. The darkness slowly consumed your eyesight and the last thing you felt before passing out was being carried and laid down onto something comfortable, which you assumed was the couch.

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The killer on the other hand shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts that consumed his mind when he saw your beautiful face below him. He outstretched his hand, brushing away a few strands of hair that fell into your face

He then picked you up as gently as possible, carried your passed-out figure to the couch, and laid you onto the soft cushions. After a few moments in which he just stared at you, mainly your calm face he shook his head, snapping back into reality and focusing on the task at hand. Killing Casey Becker, his ex-girlfriend.

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Casey sat outside on the wooden porch for a few seconds and looked into the kitchen from the glass panes in the door. She looked over to where the corridor opened into the kitchen and saw the dark and mysterious character standing there, peering into the smoky kitchen. Casey crawled back to her hiding spot; her thoughts consumed by you. She took you for dead. The thought alone made her tear up and she felt useless and pathetic. She couldn't protect you; she hadn't even tried.

Casey then saw a car coming down the road. Maybe if she got to it, they would save her. Hopefully, it would be her parents. She crawled along the ground. Just past the doors, she stopped. She got up and looked through the window inside. Why was it all black? She realized too late that she was staring at the killer's back. Then suddenly, the cloaked figure turned around, facing her.

The killer's hand punched right through the window and grabbed Casey's hand, the hand holding the knife. Casey hit the killer with the calling device, and he let go. She dropped her knife as she started to scurry away, letting out a few yelps and cries here and there. She came to a halt just outside the patio doors. There was Steve. Her Steve. The man she loved. She loved everything about him. His dimples, the jokes that she never found funny, yes even when he begged her for her Math Notes and made those stupid puppy eyes. She always scoffed and he immediately knew that he had won.

She snapped back to reality. Steve was still tied up and taped at the mouth. Casey whimpered. She couldn't leave him like this. He deserved an honorable death, but the crack of a tree branch startled her and made her quickly run to the front of the house.

The car she saw earlier pulled into Casey's house and up her driveway. Casey stopped to look at it. She knew it was her parents. They would come to her rescue, she knew it. She hoped.

As Casey stood there, the cloaked figure jumped through a window and landed right on top of her. She struggled with him got up and ran as fast as she could. The killer got up and chased her down the side of the house. Casey turned her head to see how far away the killer was. "A stupid thing to do", she heard your voice. Both of you always laughed at those stupid tramps who always looked back when they ran away from the killer. Suddenly a sharp pain went through her body.

The killer stabbed her near her heart. Her heart which was filled with her parents, Steve, you, and horror movies. Sometimes even with school. But only those times when she would whisper and laugh with you in English about all the gossip that she heard from Tracy Martkins during cheerleading the past day.

As Casey felt her wound, she let out multiple whimpers. There was blood pumping out of her womb. The killer lifted his knife and was about to bring it down on her to kill her when suddenly she heard her parent's voices. Her father was once again complaining about the smell of the flowers and in any other situation she would have laughed and told him that that was the point of flowers. Casey tried to yell for help however her vocal cords were squashed, and she couldn't talk.

"Mom! Dad!" She squeaked out. Her voice sounded even worse than it did after the football game 4 months ago where Steve got his first touchdown.

At the front of the house Mr Becker saw the door open, and the house, on the inside, was in ruins.

"Jesus! CASEY! (Y/N)! Oh my God, (Y/N)! Call the police, Sheron! Casey, are you upstairs?"

Mrs Becker checked your pulse, feeling a rhythmic heartbeat. She sighed in relief and picked up the phone ready to dial 911 when she suddenly heard something, so she put the phone to her ear.

"Oh my god, Casey, baby? She's here! Oh my god! I can hear her! Where is she? I can hear her!"

Mr Becker hurried back down the stairs, grabbing the keys that he threw onto the couch table and placing them into Mrs Becker's hands.

"Get in the car, drive down to the Mackenzie's. There you call the police!"

Mr Becker pushed Mrs Becker through the door. Outside she looked up and screamed. Mr Becker ran outside and looked at his wife. He followed her gaze and immediately put a hand over his mouth. He saw Casey hanging from the tree with a swing like an ornament hanging from the Christmas tree. He looked down to the ground, steam was rising from her hot bodily organs on the cold ground.

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That night you woke up in the cold hospital bed, your parents and the Sherrif in the room waiting for you to wake up. You answered their questions vaguely, and your thoughts were mainly consumed by Casey. The sheriff had told you she was dead, however it felt like you were in a nightmare. You cried yourself to sleep in your mother's arms that night.

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