Attic Monsters

Monsters

I didn't mean to kill her, but was she really even her? I saw a monster. A blood sucking, soul stealing, monster that would have taken my life. I was seconds from being attacked. What else was I to do?

I hold my daughter's small figure in my arms one last time. She lets off a series of coughs and looks at me with fright apparent in her eyes. As gently as I can I pull the glass shard out of her forehead. Blood is now gushing down her face, but I can do nothing to stop it.

Slowly, I pull her hair back in a soothing manner. "Shh, it's okay." I whisper to her even though I know she is going to die. She lets off one more cough before looking at me. I watch as the light leaves her eyes.

My head goes down and I bury it into her non-moving chest. She is gone. I didn't mean to... A heart wrenching sob leaves my chest. Its followed with another, and then another. How could my daughter be dead. It isn't possible. She's still alive. Just playing a game. This is what this is. It's all a game. I'm being pranked.. I had to be.

In my delirious state, I snap my head up. There had to be hidden cameras somewhere. "The gig is up!" I yell at nothing. "You can come out now! You got your footage." No one appears and I look at my daughter's lifeless body again. "It's okay, I understand. How about we all forget this and I'll wake up tomorrow morning like nothing happened. Does that sound like a deal?" Once again no one answers. My hands graze her forehead and I feel the coldness of her body meet my finger tips. Everything just feels so real. The crimson smell in the air is so strong. How could someone have faked this. Why would someone play such a sick and cruel game... She really is dead isn't she... I hold her to my chest and try to remember the feeling.

Finally, after my legs have gone numb and I have no more tears to cry, I put my hand over her eyes and close them. When I pull away I see streaks of blood over her closed eyelids. This did not help.

I murdered my daughter and now sat in the coldness of her blood... but I didn't mean to. She wasn't herself... but she was? My mind is playing tricks on me. Ever since I left the attic. The monster is fake, only in my head, but then why did I see it. How could I have possibly felt its presence... I murdered my daughter. I Murdered my Daughter. I MURDERED my DAUGHTER. SHE WAS DEAD! GONE!

...But what happens now? My husband would be home soon. He'll see her, and then me. He'd call the police and I'll be locked up. I had to do something, come up with explanation. There is no way I will be able to convince them I didn't kill her, and I couldn't mention the attic. That only leaves one option, I had to hid her. Clean up the mess. Act like I didn't know.

Hurry, I had to Hurry. He'll be home soon. I quickly jump up and look at the mess. I couldn't bury her it would take to long. Besides, even my husband would be observant enough to notice the uneven ground.

I couldn't dump her body. Then there would be witness to me leaving the house. It would be too suspicious.

Suddenly, an idea comes to my mind. The attic, I'll take her to the attic.

Looking at my daughter, I pick her up. Blood trickles down her body and hits the floor. That's when I notice my plan is flawed. If I carried her like this, I would be trailing blood throughout the house. It would stain the carpet. I wouldn't have enough time to clean it, but somehow... Somehow, I had to still get my daughter to the attic.

I gently set my daughter back down as an idea comes to my mind. Maybe if I wrap her body in a towel it would soak up the blood. As quickly as I can, I rush to the linen closet. Everything up close I always used. If I grabbed something from the back, my husband won't even notice when it's gone.

Finally, I settle to a ugly brown blanket that I bought at a yardsale. It looks to be a little on the small side, but it would have to do. When I get back to my daughter I don't even bother to look at her before putting the blanket over her body. I want to remember her as she was, not like this.

As I pick up my daughter, I wait to see if more drops of blood fall to the floor. When, I don't see any I deem it safe. As quick as I can I rush through the house and up the stairs. My hand flies out and I grab the latch to drop down the attic door. It falls with a crash leaving yet again another cloud of dust in it's wake. When it is stable, I place my first step on the stairs, and then the next. This time nothing is going to stop me.

I walk as far into the attic as I can, without my sense of sight. My leg hits the corner of a table and I hear a crash as an object falls to the floor. The pain in my calf and the shock of what just happens almost causes me to drop my daughter.

Finally, my eyes start to adjust and I look around. Now that I'm​ up here, I need to find a good place to put her.

In the corner, I see a small hint of light. It looks to be coming from a window of some kind, but for some reason the window looks to be spray painted black.

With the little light that is coming into the room, I'm able to see a rocking chair sitting perfectly next to the window. That's where I'm going to dump her. As I'm walking towards the chair I hear a creak coming from the floorboards behind me. It's almost like footsteps.

My head turns around and I'm thankful to see no one there. My husband is not home yet, I still have time. Turning back around I reach the chair and then proceed to slump my daughter in it. When I'm done, I place my hand on her head through the towel. A small sigh escapes my chest. I don't let the moment last long and leave as quick as I came.

Now with only the thought of cleaning up in mind, I grab a towel out of the bathroom and rush down stairs. The towel gets thrown over the puddle of blood sitting on the kitchen floor. It soon is stained red. As I let it soak more, I go to the kitchen and get a bottle of bleach and a trash bag.

When I return I pick up the soaked towel and throw it in the garbage bag. I then dump the bottle of bleach to the floor. I grab another towel and wipe up the bleach along with the rest of the blood.

As I'm done I survey the rest of the floor for more stains. There is only one more and it doesn't take long to clean up. The only thing that is left now was the copper stench of blood. As quick as I can I rush to the closet and grab a bottle of air fragrance. Purple Lavender. Hopefully, it will cover up the smell.

Right as I get done, I hear a car door slam in the driveway. My hair stands on end, a shiver races down my spine and a lump comes to my throat. It's him... My head spins around the room and an object on the floor meets my eyes. I forgot about the dropped mayo jar. Quick, I had to make up a lie.

"Hey Honey! I'm home." He calls as the front door opens.

"I'm in the kitchen!" I call and quickly crouch down to pick up the rest of the glass shards.

As I'm picking up the glass, I notice it. My hands are stilled covered in blood. Her blood. He will be in here any second, I didn't have time to wash them. I have to think quick. I grab the nearest shard and set it to my skin. I then take a deep breath before stabbing it into my hand. It drags down, with the brute force of my own will, and cuts the flesh of my palm.

Standing up, I stare at my wounded hand as he rushes in.

"Hey hone-- Oh My God. What happened?" My husband practically yells as he rushes towards me. I don't say anything but look at my wounded hand in shock.

I feel his hands grasp at my shoulders as he drags me forwards. He leans my body over the sink and runs the cold water over my hands. The evidence gets washed down the drain. I'm safe, for now.