❝𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.❞
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Laura Rose was trying to live her life like any teenager her age, or at least she was attempting to. Going to school...
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| 11:43 pm |
Laura's POV
"Mom!" I hang the strap of my rifle over my shoulder, and sprint very swiftly over towards her fallen form.
"Laura wait!" Leon yelled out, as I hear him follow after me.
I kneel down beside Mom on the floor—turning her over onto her back while Leon falls onto his knees next to me.
"Mom! Mom! Can you hear me?!"
With her head hung low and her eyes still closed, Mom steadily sits up off the ground—facing Leon and I. Giving us a blank emotionless look. I failed to notice right away that she isn't wearing the same clothes as earlier. My mother Claire is now wearing a simple red battle suit, the material being made mostly out of spandex and cotton. Overlapped by a black combat vest, with multiple pockets and pouches. Along with a black utility belt around her waist, black knee pads, a black choker around her neck, a pair of black finger-less combat gloves, and a pair of black combat boots that went halfway up to her knees. Not only was she wearing Umbrella themed tactical gear, the gear was speckled in a certain velvety substance that practically made my stomach drop.
Blood.
'Something's not right. I can feel it in my gut. Why is she being abnormally quiet? Why isn't Mom saying even a word to us at all? Most importantly, why is she covered in blood???' I think to myself.
When I glanced back down at Mom, she finally opened her eyes and unhurriedly lifted her head up to look at me. With not even a single sign of recognition or joy in her eyes at all.
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"Laura! Leon! Get away from her, now!" Chris yelled at us, right as I turned my head towards him for the moment.
Right as I was caught off guard, Mom rapidly shoved Leon aside onto the ground, and firmly grabbed ahold of my neck. As she stands up from the ground right away, Mom hoists me high up into the air—pressing me abruptly and forcefully against the metal wall. Using only a single arm to do so. Her hand tightly wrapped around my scrawny neck, as she was effortlessly crushing my windpipe in a death grip. Using both of my hands, I grip onto my mother's arm. Trying to pry off her hand from around my neck, as I struggled against the wall. But to no avail, it didn't work. 'What is she doing?!?! Since when was Mom this incredible strong!!! She's barely even has her hand tightened around my neck, and yet she's still choking me to death!!!'
