The Twins that Want to Cook

The Children That Want to Cook

     Slivers of light shot across my vision for mere seconds at a time. Slowly, my soul descended back into my body and those slivers became thicker.
     Sitting up and rubbing my eyes, I noticed that Trevor was gone. My camera was oddly placed with care on  a shelf with preserved jellies and jams. My gut wrenched up and up to my throat. Alone.
      I was alone.
     Somehow, I was moved into the basement. The silence of it made me feel more uneasy than the children did. The house was quiet.
     The stairs groaned. Mildewy odor stained the cellar, and black mold coated the corners. Breathing was difficult, and jacking phlegm onto the cement was starting to look tempting. A phone was what I needed. I had to get out if here. Making it up three moldy, rickety steps, I peered down to where I was laying before. A cot stained brown and mustard yellow, though it was most definitely supposed to be white.

     *Scritch*
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     *Scritch*
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     *Scritch*
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     Roaches. They skittered across the sheets and scratched and hissed. Bile burned in my throat once again, and I collapsed to my knees.
     Vomit burned my throat and eyes when I hacked and coughed. It splattered on every article of clothing on my person. Just when I thought I was done, it crawled up my esophagus again and threw me on to my hands and knees. Black, yellow, and pale brown chunks flung to the concrete and slid down my shirt.
      It was a struggle to get up, and it was a struggle to step around the coagulated puke. The pounding in my head slowed. An old and slivered door with chips of paint from a better day awaited my arrival at the top. All I had left to do was greet it.
     Instead I was greeted with a rotten stench seeping through. The smell of singed hair and vomit suffocated me. Composedly, I opened the door.
    I'll be out soon. I'll be safe.

     Shrieks and shrieks.
Muffled shrieks and blood curdling screams. I felt like I couldn't move anymore.

     Vocal cords were ripping and tearing. My brain felt as if it would seize.