I didn't find out why we were driving away so quickly for over a decade. Here's how it happened. Eleven years later, I was putting my kids to bed, it was July 16th. It had been a long day at the hospital, where I'm a nurse. I was incredibly tired and I went into my bed, to wait for Tom. Being tired, I completely forgot about the Scarfing. I fell asleep. A while later, I woke up to my husband and my... Dad... yelling. "DAD?! WHAT ON EARTH?!" I yelled. I could hear the kids calling for mommy and daddy. Tom looked at me with the widest eyes. "This is your father?! He's trying to kill you!" That moment was when I put two and two and two together. My dad was the devil. Or, one of, at least. Him coming home, covered in blood, why made my mom wanted us to leave and why he was here, yelling at my husband about killing me. Yeah, makes sense. My dad had demonishly red eyes and a dagger in his hand. He yelled at Tom "EITHER MOVE OR DIE!" Tom, loved me, he really did, and so he did not move. My dad's eyes glowed. He raised the dagger and I covered my eyes. There was a shriek and I felt the warm blood on the sheets. I opened my eyes, and my husband lay dead in front of me, a stab wound in his heart, still gushing blood. I gasped. "How. Could. You?!" I yelled at my dad. The adrenaline pumping through me, I took the dagger from Tom's heart and stabbed my father. He took a final breath and fell to the floor. I walked slowly and fumbled with my phone. I called my mom. "M-mom?" I had said "I- I- I killed dad..." The emotion in her voice was... Weird. She was happy yet upset. I phoned 911 and told them in a shaky voice what had happened. They came, took the bodies and left me to confront my kids about everything. Gee, thanks a bunch. I sat them down as my mom did for me when I was eleven and explained to them what had happened. "Sweeties, your dad... has passed." My daughter, Ella, who was ten at the time, looked at me with wide eyes. She knew what I meant. Ethan, on the other hand, who was only 6 didn't. Ella started crying and Ethan asked me what that meant. "Daddy's gone." I said, holding back tears. "T-to the farm where our dog is. No, Ethan, he's not coming back." I said, a silent tear rolling down my cheek. I brought them down to the living room and put on a movie, so they would be distracted. I went to change the sheets, to ones that weren't full of my dad and my husband's blood. Two years later, on Tom's death day, I got the crimson letter with the dried scabby blood looking sealing. I understood mom's look when I gave her the letter. So, I told Ella about it. I used the exact words that my mom did, actually. I brought her to Floormart and she chose a mint green scarf. I showed her how to do it, and helped her understand.
She's now 15 and she understands. Ethan, well, now he knows. This, this is where my story ends.
