Nostalgia

.|The Impact|.

I was on my way to Alex's house when it happened. We were planning to do a pizza night, which was a regular thing for us as anti-social teenagers. I had planned to route the pizza place on the way to Alex's house since if you took a short-cut the paths would cross. My mum had told me that it was sketchy but she was overly protective and as a rebellious teenager I didn't really care for her advice. I make my way out the house, probably wearing black ( original I know ) and made my way down the back lane to the pizza place. As a paranoid person, I usually make my way very quickly down the lanes, it's a whole load of nothing-ness which I don't really care to stick around long for. Now, you're probably thinking this is where the 'impact' happens- no. I actually make it down the lanes rather easily, It was after that which wasn't so forgiving.

I step out the gate that locks the lane, kind of pointless since its just a load of grass but whatever. As I'm closing the gate behind me I hear someone say something behind me, It was a little off-putting but I hadn't really thought anything of it until I tuned into what It was saying. I turn around and see a tall man, maybe 6 foot give or take. He's oddly close and was giving me some seriously eerie vibes. He's still repeating the same words which I came to realise was a fucked up chant. It went something like this:

Little Billie, mean as hell,

Pushed his sister in a well.

Mother said, while drawing water,

"My, it's hard to raise a daughter."

I have no idea how this correlated to me, since I am neither a sister nor a daughter. Like any normal functioning human being I took this as a sign to get the fuck out of there. So I try to rush past the man, thinking maybe he escaped from some psycho ward or something, when he reached out with a longing hand and grabbed my shoulder, firmly. Taken aback, I looked him dead in the eye, and what I saw behind them was not anything of a human being. I went to grab his hand that was fastened to my shoulder when he pulls something out of his back pocket, what I assume was the knife I was stabbed with. As he continually dug the knife into the left side of my body he began a new chant that I will never forget:

Lizzy Borden took an axe,

Gave her mother forty whacks,

When she saw what she had done,

She gave her father forty one.

And that's the last thing I heard.