I woke up to a bloodcurdling scream coming from the room next to me and a loud bang. I instantly got up and grabbed the axe that lay under the bed, in case something like this ever happened. It was exactly 3:29am, Sunday the 21st, November 1993. Anyway, I cautiously walked out into the dark hallway; then a stopped. I felt a warm, sticky liquid underneath my feet. I looked down. It was blood. I felt a jolt in my stomach. Why is there blood in the middle of the landing? Whose is it? I deducted it must have been quite recently left there as you could still fell warmth in it. “Carrie? Slowly come downstairs into the kitchen. It’s not safe up there.” My mum shouted from downstairs. I froze. Who was up here? “Carrie. Do not whatever you do listen to her. I’m your mother. Not her. Come into my room now.” My mum whispered from her room across the hall. I stood as still as a statue. If you were me; whose voice would you listen too?
My best friend Alex was sleeping over as his parents were out of town. I ran into the spare room that he was staying in and saw him asleep. I relaxed a little. I went inside and sat down next to him, closing the door behind me. There was I knock on the door. I didn’t dare answer. I was surprised Alex hadn’t woken up yet. But that’s when I realised the fresh blood stains on the other side of him. He was dead. When I was 13, I had a lump on my back. It hurt a little so I went to the doctors. They looked at it and sent me to specialist clinic. They didn’t tell me what for though. But when I went there to get checked out, they told me I had cancer. So anyway, I went to the hospital for surgery to get the lump removed. After they said there would be another half of the surgery in a week’s time. So when I got back I went to sleep. I woke up to the worst pain fathomable. I could barely breathe it hurt so much. My parents came in to say goodnight, and found me in this state of paralyse of pure pain. They called 999 and asked for the ambulance and waited 20 minutes for them to come. And let me tell you something, those 20 minutes were the longest of my life. When we got to the hospital this really young nurse named Lisa asked me how much it hurt out of 10, and I said 9. Then they rushed me into surgery. When I was out, Lisa said how brave I was as my 9 was the easily the pain of 10. It wasn’t that I was being brave that night; it was because I was saving my 10. If you had to ask me how much out of 10 this hurt, I would hands down say 10.
I howled in pain at the realisation that he was dead. We had known each other since I can remember. I felt like half of me was missing. I loved him more than anything. This was worse than anything. I would rather go through an eternity of the longest 20 minutes of my life than have to go through this. I felt like nothing mattered anymore. I didn’t care if I died. I actually wished I would. But then it hit me; Alex wouldn’t want me to be crying around being unhappy, he was all about optimism! Even though I was the biggest pessimistic person there could ever be, I still tried to keep calm. But that did not work at all when I remembered the person who killed him and pretending to be my mum being in the same house as me.
I was internally screaming for help as any noise I made would make it even more obvious that I was in there. But oh wait, I had been crying for at least 30 minutes, so there would have been noise coming out from me having a metal breakdown. Very slowly I quietly got up and tiptoed to the door. I took a deep breath and slowly opened it. I looked out onto the landing…all that was there was a cat. I’ve always thought cats are rather anthropomorphic. I mean, they look like the feel happiness the same as we do, feel love the same way we do, and feel pain the same way we do. I picked it up and looked it in the eyes and held it tight, never wanting to let go. I thought about a lot of things that night, like how the time we had together wasn’t and couldn’t ever be enough. I also thought about how other people are just sleeping, or waking up from a nightmare that wasn’t real. My life is bit like nightmare, apart from the fact that I cannot wake up from it. But then I heard the stairs creak…
I once again grabbed the axe and slowly stepped out into the badly lit hallway and looked around. As I was about to calm down, I saw the most terrifying thing fathomable. I still cannot to this day begin to explain what it looked like. It was covered in blood… I had feeling it was Alex’s. I suddenly felt even sicker than I did before. All I remember after that is waking up in a hospital bed with my parents looking at me with a distinctly sorrowful look.
That was 8 years ago. I am now 23 years old and its 2001, November 21st.I have nightmares every night about it. They say ‘it’s’ still out there. No one has seen it since. And I so dearly hope that no one else ever will. I spend my weekends at Hanwell Asylum, the worlds largest mental institute. I never did find out how ‘it’ replicated my mums voice; and I doubt I ever will. But all I know is that never takes your friends for granted, tell them how much they mean to you before it’s too late.
My name is Carrie, and that was the most terrifying night of my life.
