The Monster In You

"Don't touch me you selfish prick!" My mom shouted outside in the living room.

"How dare you call me that woman! I'm doing this for you and the kids!" My father shouted back.

My ears were ringing with their shouts as I held my brother, Harris, in my arms tightly. He was crying and sobbing uncontrollably, tears falling like rain out of his eyes. I felt like crying too but I knew that it would make him upset even more so than he already was. So I just gritted my teeth and stopped those tears of my own from coming out as well.

We were in my room on the 2nd floor of the house and me, Claire, was supposed to be having my 12th birthday today. But as soon as I came home from school my father and mother were already in a stormy terrible mood and as per usual they were fighting at night, again. I hated why they always fought at this time of the day and specifically the fact that they always fought in the middle of the night.

If they hated each other so much, then why don't they just sepa- 

Thud!........."Marla!" My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of something hitting the floor hard and my father raising his voice at my mother's name. I don't know what came over me but I quickly put Harris down and told him to stay put, then rushed outside of my room.

As I neared the stairs I saw something so very, very terrible, there layed my father on the floor weeping like a puppy and held someone, someone who was covered in a pool of crimson red flowing from a gaping blood covered wound on her chest.

Wait, her, how did I know it was a her though? I asked myself at that very moment. 

No, no no no it couldn't be her.

My thoughts were thinking of someone whom I wouldn't fathom to be her, someone who sang me lullabies to sleep, someone who hugged me when I cried, someone whom I knew would tear apart my very existence if I knew that she was no longer in this world. 

But as I went down those fated spiralling staircases, oh those fated stairs, I knew that deep down in my heart that it was inevitable and a horrible dreaded silence came over me. As I finally reached the bottom of the stairs, I ran like I had never ran before in my entire life and reached the crime scene. 

However when i finally saw her I was terribly, terribly spot on on who she was, there dead on the floor lay my most beloved person in the world, my mom.

My mom was dead.

Her body was enveloped in a pool of blood that came from this giant hole in her abdomen and the amount of it was just……..horrifying. I looked behind her and saw the statue of the stone soldier that decorated the living room, its once black sword now slick with blood, that was when the realization struck me that my mom had gotten stabbed by that very sword.

"M-m-mom? Please wake up! Mom!" I sat on the floor, ignorant of the blood washing over my arms and legs. By this time dad was nowhere to be seen and had blundered off somewhere, leaving me and mom alone.

So I started desperately shoving my mothers still body, willing her to wake up, no, begging her to wake up. But she just wouldn't open those beautiful blue eyes and look at me.

I just couldn't believe it, no I refused to believe it, but as I sat there next to her trying so desperately hard to wake her up. I knew that deep down this was real, that whatever i did mom just wouldn't wake up, and that reality frightened me and shook me to my very roots.

"No! Not her! God not her! Mom please! Aaagh!" I shouted desperately in anguish.

Pain like nothing I had ever experienced before rushed into my veins and all I could do was scream.