Amelia quietly moved about the house, breathing heavily and her checks stained with tears. It was dark in the long, endlessly seeming hallways with doors on either side. She bumped into the doorways, making loud thuds as bruises formed on her upper arms. Amelia sobbed as her long legs shook horribly out of exhaustion, she pushed on the doors but as far as she knew she would never escape them. Finally. Amelia came to the the next door not a few feet away from the others. Amelia stepped back and rammed into it, a deafening crack echoed through the corridor and she tumbled into the poorly lit room. She gasped, lifting her head to see into the dark. A dresser lay dead center in the room, the faded oak wood worn and lumpy was the only thing in the small room. She inched closer to the dresser, trying to be quiet. The floorboards under her bare feet moaned loudly, louder than her bumping up against the wall. Amelia winced, pausing herself.
A door slammed open, She woke them up. Amelia inhaled sharply, fear now enveloped her, no no no not again, please not again she thought to herself. The person flung open a door. Her door. A scream of anger echoed through the hallway.
"AMELIA" their voice was southern, and filled with sheer rage. Amelia rushed to her feet, not answering the voice. She carefully closed the door and flew to the dresser with great paranoia.
"AMELIA." The voice grew louder with each door they slammed. She pulled open the drawers, her heart racing. Loudly the drawers slid out of place and she looked through them.
nothing
nothing
nothing
not-
"AMELIA I KNOW YOU'RE HERE" it shrieked. They had a thick southern accent that hung in the air minutes after the words were uttered. Amelia gasped, both by surprise and shock. It was a pocket watch, necklace sort of thing. Seemingly untouched unlike the dresser, which was very dusty indeed. She picked it up and tied it around her neck.
SLAM.
Amelia gasped, whirling around to see her. Mother. She gave an animalistic snarl standing inside the doorway, light flooded the room from which she had no idea.
"Maybe your little girl brain of your's can't remember our rules in this household of ours..."
YOU ARE READING
f a m i l y
HorrorAmelia Rogers is an 18 year old teenager and her life is perfect! One loving boyfriend, passing grades, and amazing friends... until she meets her other family. Latex masks, Victorian styled clothing, and a cult following shadowing the entire thing.
