My legs carried me to the cleaning closet. Opening the door, I reached inside and rolled out the bucket. Next, I gathered an armful of rags and pushed the bucket into the kitchen. Letting the rags fall on the counter, I turned the water on cold, filling up the bucket halfway. I looked next to the sink and mindlessly grabbed the dish powder. Adding some to the water, I gathered my things and went back out to the crime scene.
Rushing to my knees, I soaked up blood with some of the dry rags. After it was all gone, I grabbed a rag and plunged my hand into the icy water. Grimacing, I pulled it out and began to scrub the walls, floor, and door. I managed to only use four rags in this process. Next, I dried the water off everything. The smell of blood still lingered in the air. I gathered up the bucket and dirty rags, poured the water down the sink, and pushed the rags down the laundry chute. Back to the cleaning closet. I grabbed the Lysol spray and flower-scented Febreze. Carrying them back to the front door, I absently sprayed them over everything. I walked around the house and sprayed the Febreze everywhere. After I put them back, the trance was gone again.
Fuck...I can hardly remember...It seems like a dream...
Hunger pinched my stomach. I should probably eat something...
Walking back across the hall into the kitchen, I looked to my left and saw the casserole dish on the floor. I picked it up and placed the entire thing in the trash. Opening the freezer, I pulled out two Hotpockets and placed them both in the microwave after putting them on a plate and removing the plastic. I punched the numbers and sat down to wait. I stared at the microwave, silently yelling at it to go faster. The green glowing numbers ticked away slowly, the dish spinning around and around. The hunger cramped my stomach again. "Fuck it," I said to no one. I opened the door to the microwave and yanked the plate out. The food was still partially frozen, but I no longer gave a shit. I picked up the slightly warmer one and took a huge bite, the inside too cold to taste good. I didn't care. Shoveling them both down my throat in ten minutes, I left the dirty dish on the table and walked to the living room.
I plopped down on the couch and sighed.
What am I gonna do now?
The last thing I remember before sleep was staring at the ceiling, trying not to cry.
~~~
I woke up, startled, by someone trying to kick the door down. Or that's what it sounded like, at least...
Oh my god...What do I do? It's probably the police!
I took a few deep breaths and peeked out the curtain. It was worse than that.
Tim...
Who's the other one?
Yellow hoodie and black mask with a deep frown painted on...
No...
I almost tripped rushing up the stairs. "Fuck!" I muttered under my breath. The bruise on my cheek from Jeff's punch and the bruise on my forehead from my grandmother throbbed rhythmically. I pulled the door open to my room, closed it quietly, and locked it. Backing away to the other side of the room, I hyperventilated. I could hear the crash of the door opening and the two men coming in.
Footsteps on the stairs.
I moaned quietly, biting my hand to keep myself from screaming. The room was dark and cold, silent. This made my rapid breathing sound much louder. I heard a hand trying to open the door. "Hoodie! It's this one!" Tim shouted. I fell to the ground and pulled my knees to my chest, sobbing. Terror gripped at my chest. Jeff was going to kill me if he saw me again, Shadow Walker was going to kill me if I went with them.
They were both at the door now, kicking it, yelling for me to open, and yanking at the doorknob. I sobbed harder. I couldn't breathe...I couldn't breathe. My face was soaked with tears and I was shaking with terror.
God...If you're there...Please make this painless...
