prologue

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     It was the beginning of the end. I bolted to the door as the dark haired figure moved slowly, but ever surely behind me. I raised my shaking palm to the silver knob and turned it with as much force as I could muster.

Seeing that I had little to no time left, I ran to the laundry room and forced open the detergent and poured it into a glass. The liquid was a beautiful candy color, and reminded me of the brightly colored lollipops that my sister and I would buy at the county fairs before the accident.

I picked up the glass and walked over to the door, marvelling at the picture of my father holding his lucky baseball bat and grinning happily at the camera. I turned that silver knob once more and opened the cedar door.

The cloaked figure was standing there merrily, as if he was waiting on me.

"If this is happening, at least let me do it myself." I pleaded. The figure nodded slowly and I held up the glass with the crystalline liquid to my chapped lips, and downed it.

And just like that, I became my own murderer.

~~~~~

ElleWhere stories live. Discover now