Shadow Bound

How it all started

Erin, run! Get out of here!" My mother's voice screeched, pushing my frail body out of view. I didn't know what to do, but I was afraid of getting into trouble, so I obeyed. I rushed away as quickly as my eight year old feet could carry me. I found a closet at the end of the hall. In confused desperation, I ducked into it, unable to close the door all of the way. I couldn't see much, as all of the lights in the house blew out when they invaded. Their identity was unknown, as I couldn't see them. They made this sound that pierced my eardrums, like they were communicating in different frequencies of shrieks. Like each frequency meant something different. I could hear my mom's screaming, my dad's attempt at protecting his family, and my brother grasping and chucking anything and everything that he could at them. Why couldn't I help? I resisted the urge to jump out and come to the rescue, because I knew my mom would get mad at me.
Tears fell down my face as guilt built in my body, boiling over into anger as their cries for mercy continued. I hugged a blanket that was stored inside, savoring the familiar scent of lavender and detergent, embracing the wool that had kept me warm when I was a young child. I huddled in the very corner, sobbing silently, helpless and useless. They continued to scream, continued to suffer. I could hear my mother begging for mercy, continually telling the intruders that she didn't know what they were talking about, she didn't know where he was. Who is He? How does she know what they're saying? I didn't hear my father anymore, but I refused to believe in what could only be the possible explanation of why I couldn't. I could still hear my brother screaming, but it was distant, as if he was separated, taken into another room. What was happening?
I plugged my ears, tears pouring down my cheeks, my breath short and staggered. I was too afraid to breathe, terrified that the things that were attacking could hear my heartbeat, could sense my intakes of air. Even with my ears plugged, the howling was louder than ever, booming through the entire neighborhood. Doors slammed, glass shattered, and sounds of terror erupted from every corner, every crack. I could tell without looking that this home was no longer my home, but a destroyed fragment on my now disturbing life. I knew that I wasn't going to live here anymore, and my life wasn't going to be the same.
Everything stopped. The noises ceased, the screams silenced. Everything was still. I peered out the crack of the door, praying that they didn't notice me. Blood was everywhere. I could see smeared handprints across the hall walls, like they were trying to get to me, but my family wouldn't let them. The extent of my vision was limited to the hallway and the part of the living room that directly connected to the hall, and it was all destroyed. Pictures were thrown on the ground, furniture was torn to shreds, strewn around in random places. Fingernail markings broke the bamboo floor, ripping into different rooms. They were tortured, thrown, beaten. I couldn't see their bodies though. I started to retreat back into the closet, when something caught my eye. There was movement at the end of the hallway where the living room met it. Someone--or something-- was still in here. I stared, unable to move, petrified that they might see me if I were to back up. I gawked helplessly, waiting for it to leave. Then it disappeared, it was quiet again, no shadows moved.
Then, my vision was blocked, a bright orange eye staring directly at me through the crack in the door, waiting for me to react. I gasped, then threw my hand over my mouth, holding my breath, hoping that it was just my imagination. I shut my eyes tight, telling myself that it was just a dream and that the thing would go away. It would leave me alone. I kept my eyes shut, counting to ten as my mom had always taught me. One- I was back in my room, listening to music and drawing. Two, three- I was coloring in a flower I had just created, highlighting it with a deep blue and bright red on the edges. Four- the beat of the song Sugar, we're goin down by Fallout Boy vibrated within my body through my earphones. Five, six- My feet tapped to the beat, my head bobbing slightly as I finished my masterpiece. Seven- I could feel the words in my mouth aching to be sung, eager to be heard outside of my individual ears. Eight, nine- I finished the flower, and was about to skip down into the kitchen, where my parents were working together on cooking dinner. Ten- I heard their laughs, talking about the previous events throughout their day, sharing stories. I could practically see their smiles, taking in their warmth and happiness.
I slowly opened my eyes back up, my breath still heavy in my chest, but I was calmer. I could feel my parents aura, even if it was destroyed in reality. I held onto that feeling, cherished it before it was torn from me. The eye was gone, and everything was still. I slowly let my tension go, my chest becoming a little lighter. They hadn't spotted me. I waited patiently for two more minutes, making sure that everyone was gone, and I was safe. When I finally gathered up my courage, I stepped one foot out of the closet. My family was still there, I thought to myself. They're fine. This is just a bad dream, I just need to wake up. I continued to batter my mind with these thoughts, convincing myself that everything was perfectly fine and I would wake up in my bed and see the smile on my parents faces' for another day. I reached the end of the hallway.
It wasn't a dream.