Fatal Lullaby

Fatal Deaths

I walk away with out saying a word. Did he just do that? Or was I imagining? I can still feel his clammy hand on my bare skin. I go into the girls bathroom, and look at myself in the mirror. I feel disgusted with myself. I can't tell anyone about this. No one would believe me anyway, so there wouldn't be a point. I collect myself and head outside as if nothing happened. 

I don't head towards my next class, I head home. I can't take school at the moment.

When I enter my house no one is home. This time I don't mind though, everything feels in place. Nothing is touched. With a shaky breathe I head upstairs to the shower. Stripping my clothes I silently curse at my mom for dressing me up. I silently curse at myself for letting her. Screw these clothes, I'm never wearing something like this again.

Once I enter the shower I let the hot water run over me. I get soap and scrub myself 'till I'm red, and raw. Once I get out of the shower I brush my teeth (for ten minutes I think, I can practically still feel his fat tongue in my mouth) and put my pjs on and watch T.V.

For the rest of the day I stay like that, sitting on the couch absent-mindenly watching T.V. I hear a knock on the door and I jump ten feet in the air. I head towards the door like I just been woken up, and open it. I see my mom shivering from the coldness.

"Well? Are you going to let me in?" She manages to stammer, rubbing her arms. I move to the side so she can get in.  

"Phew! I thought I was going to freeze to death! I mean I didn't see the key under the mat. Did you take it?" She asks. I nod. She heads to the kitchen making herself some coffee.

"Wants some?" She asks me. I shake my head. I look at the clock and see it's nine o'clock P.M. Has it really been that long?

"I'm going to bed," I tell my mom.

"Ok, night sweetheart."

"Night." I reply.

I head to my room, slipping under my warm blankets, falling into deep sleep.

The rain hits my back like tiny pellets, soaking everything. The wind blows my hair to the side blocking my view of the welcoming lights in the home. Taking a step foreword I watched as the kitchen lights turned off, along with the rest. I walk in front the kitchen window and try to open the window. Surprisingly it opens. Idiots.

I put my leg through, and soon the other. Once I'm fully in I don't take the time to look at my surroundings, instead I look ahead, in the darkness of the home. I spot a clean knife near the sink and slowly walk towards there. I pick it up admiring the way it glints went once the dim street light hits it.

"Who are you?" I hear the sleepy voice of a little boy say. I turn around hiding the knife behind my back. I see a boy five or six rubbing his eyes, looking at me curious. Not afraid; curious. It's refreshing.

"I'm Santa Claus' helper. I just came to see, where Santa Clause will enter." I lie. His eyes face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Really?!" He asks excitingly. I nod. 

"But you don't look like an elf" He adds with a slight frown.

"That's because I'm not in my true form." I say. "What's your name? I'll be sure to add you to Mr. Claus' good list."

"Michael Dolata," He says with a grin.

"Ok, Michael, I'll be sure to add you to the list. But first I need to check the place out, so I need you to go to bed." I say hushed.