My whole body is shaking as I peak my head round the dark corner of the basement. The room is almost black and it's hard to see anything but the glint of a blood stained knife catches my eye. I gasp and as I do the person holding the knife's eyes meet mine. The eyes are familiar but I do not know them. I knew these eyes when they were kind. I don't know these bloodshot eyes. These eyes belong to a maniac.
The maniac takes a step towards me revealing his face as a wicked grin stretches from ear to ear. A silent tear rolls down my face as I look at the lifeless body of a woman in his arms. I hear a thud as he drops the body. I take that as my cue to leave. I turn and start running up the stairs. I run outside as fast as my feet can take me, gasping for breath but I can't quite catch any air. I keep running unsure of where to go because I know I can't turn back.
YOU ARE READING
Wilted Rose
Teen FictionIn my garden there is a rose bush, it has been there for as long as I can remember. When I was younger my mother would go out and water this rose bush. The roses would bloom beautifully, their bright red petals open and welcoming. The leaves were a...
