The Girl I Met On Winter Road

- My Family Dies -

Waking up to this messed up society always pissed me off. The sheer amount of pointless redundancies appalls me honestly. Everyone who stabbed you in the back acts like they like you, using smooth words and empty promises to make up for the death and chaos that is the world, but I'm digressing aren't I? 

I woke up groggy eyed and yawned. My stomach was empty, and my mouth parched, and looking out the window I saw nothing but a carpet of golden leaves. "This already sucks." I said to myself as I walked into my bathroom to shit, shower, and shave. After completing the Three S's I stumbled my way down the stairs and into the kitchen. We lived in a decent suburban home, 344 Winter Road is our address if you ever feel like stopping in by the way.

The kitchen was conveniently located to the right of the stairs, and led into our living room. My parents were wealthy but not rich. My mother was a neurosurgeon and my father worked for the CIA even though his cover job was a stock broker. He didn't know I know this, but perks of being a twenty-first century kid is knowing how to hack computers. Shit I digressed again, ADD does that to a guy, you feel me? 

Walking into the kitchen I pulled the milk out of the fridge. Cereal was a must on a morning like this, so I opted for Lucky Crisps. I poured myself a decent sized portion and walked into our living room, expecting to find my mother and father sitting on the sofa drinking their favorite hot beverage while watching some documentary or other, but instead what I saw was something more...well, less than normal.

The blood was what caught my attention first, shit was everywhere. Crimson droplets riddled the floor and walls like raindrops on a window. My mothers body was cut in half, you could see her spinal chord, and her intestines were hanging out like a bag of old lettuce. My father wasn't any better off, although in his defense you could tell he had put up a fight because his glock was in his left hand and bullet holes were in the walls.

I sleep with my earbuds in most nights, and my music is loud, so it didn't surprise me that I never woke up. My dad had a hole through his chest the size of a soccer ball, and that left hand I mentioned? Yeah it was on the other side of the room, whoever had done this cut his damn hand off. I looked at my parents, middle aged and vibrant, now dead and cold. 

I put my bowl of cereal down and my hands found their way to my head. My eyes were bugging out like a startled squid, dashing up and down and left and right, almost like how you would imagine Santa's Reindeer would. My breathing escalated, I started to hyperventilate, then I promptly through up whatever cereal was in my belly. I shivered, "Why is it so cold?" I wondered to myself. I glanced to the window and saw that it was shattered, the icy wind cutting into my shirtless chest like a knife.

Then I saw her standing out in the carpet of gold flecked with crimson. She had a bright red cloak wrapped around her neck, and as it billowed in the wind I saw the outline of her pale skin. In her hands she held a scythe, which she must have used on my parents. It was red too, with a dark handle, the blood of my parents stained it and dripped into the fallen leaves. 

Did I mention that I was shirtless? Fixed that real quick, I walked over the the coat rack and pulled my heavy winter jacket off it, throwing it over my shoulders. It was raven black, with a white fur hood and lining. It was my favorite jacket, also an early Christmas present from my parents, how ironic is that? I walked back up the stairs in a haze, throwing on my jeans and boots as well as a long sleeve black shirt. Grabbed my gloves too, can't have my fingers looking like Popsicle's now can I?

Walking back down stairs I grabbed my fathers gun. I ejected the magazine, three shots were gone. I absentmindedly slide it back into the weapon and racked it back, loading a round in the chamber. The soft "chunk" sound was music to my ears. I had always loved shooting, dad taught me early on in life and trained me from a young age. What? Did you think this was the part where I grabbed a gun I had no idea how to use and rushed out to meet whoever it was that killed my parents? Well you are three parts right.

Accept I knew how to use the gun in my hands, very well actually. I looked back out the window, the girl in red was still standing there, un-moving. "How is she not cold?" I asked myself. I walked toward the window and climbed out into the golden carpet of leaves on the ground.