"Mommy!" A little girl screamed, running into the house and slamming the door behind her. Fear fueled the little girl's screams, it could be heard in her terrified cries. She ran in the house like a mad man. The little girl's vision was blurred by tears and she clutched a wound on her right side as she ran. She bumped into the table beside the door and knocked it over. The collision threw her balance off and she slammed into a wall and crumpled to the floor in front of the stairs. "Daddy!"
"Jezebel, darling!" A woman shouted, running down the stairs, her beautiful brown hair flowing behind her as she ran. A man, presumably her husband, follows soon after her with a baseball bat.
"Help me!" The little girl sobbed. The woman quickly scooped the little girl into her arms and shushed her cries.
"What is it?" The man yelled, looking around cautiously, holding the bat ready for an attack.
She pointed to the front door. "Someone's there. I opened the door to see who knocked and he grabbed me! His hand pulled me really hard on my arm and it hurt. The man scratched me with a knife here-" She cried and gestured to the wound on her side. "It hurt super bad too so I screamed loud so you and Mommy could hear me but he put his hand over my mouth. I bit his hand, ran to the house and closed the door super quick when he let go!"
He walks to the front door, stepping over the table she had knocked over and curiously looked through the peep-hole on the door. Suddenly there was a loud bang and he went rigid. The man crumpled to the ground, his nearly silent warning of 'run' had almost gone unnoticed. The little girl quickly runs to the man, her own wound forgotten for the moment, and she drops down to her knees beside him, caressing his hand. A bloody wound was in the middle of his forehead, causing the girl to look up to the door where there was a hole exactly where the man's forehead would have been. A tear silently makes it's way down her fear-flushed cheek and she gazes back at the man in shock. The woman crouches behind the little girl, her hand placed comfortingly on her shoulder as she cries.
The little girl places her hand on the man's face and moves his blood-matted hair away from his forehead. The blood dripping out of the wound flows down his face, the little girl tries to wipe it away with her hand and the sleeve of her shirt but makes it worse and smears the blood all over his forehead. The woman behind her grabs her hand gently, making the girl look up at her. She shakes her head gently and the girl's eyes water as sobs begin to make their way to the surface. She turns back to the man and throws her arms around him, sobbing into his unmoving chest. A sound behind her makes her cries stop immediately as a choking sound is heard. She slowly turns around to see the woman's hands around her own throat and a crimson fluid escaping through the cracks of her fingers. The woman crumples to the ground to reveal a pair of booted feet. The little girl's eyes fearfully scan up a pair of legs, to see a gloved hand holding a bloody knife. Her eyes continue their descent upwards as they land on a grinning face, a man staring down at the girl with a creepy smile. His free hand moves and gives a little wave, making him look even more maniacal.
The girl shrieks in fear.
And that's when I woke up with a start. That same nightmare has been wreaking havoc on my sleeping schedule for most of my life. My hand automatically goes to the scar on my right side. I've never known what that nightmare signifies but I think the little girl in it was supposed to be me. It's never happened in real life though, I know because I've had that same scar since I was little. My parents told me I was jumping around the house and I broke through our sliding glass door and cut my side. Looking to the left at my alarm clock on my bedside table, I see that the time says 2:03 am.
"Ugh," I groan, clutching my head. "Stupid nightmares."
An urge to pee bombards me, so I get up reluctantly and go to the bathroom. I know I wouldn't be able to fall back to sleep so I decide to go out for a run to clear my head. Quietly, I dress and grab my phone off the charger, also grabbing my headphones from beside it. The descent down the stairs is the most important as I have to make sure the stairs don't creak and wake my mom. It's only my mom and I since my dad left when I was 14. That was three years ago now, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. I made it successfully down the stairs and slip on my shoes, silently slipping out into the night.
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Hey guys! So I've decided to go in a different direction with this book. I hope you like the updated version! XO
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Ignorance is Bliss
RomansaJezebel Iver has always lived her life to the fullest, just not in the typical ways. She loved the edgier angle of life, the risky side. Jezebel has been in trouble with the cops often and she has never brought herself to care what people think. Aft...
