Cross My Heart, Hope to Die// Masky

I looked at the figure that laid on top of my now lifeless mother. I hide deeper in the wardrobe trying not to make a sound as the figure than stabs my father. By now I had tears threatening to leave my eyes, but I stayed quite not daring to make a noise. I watch as the blood pours down their drowning lifeless bodies as the figure begins to laugh psychotically. The figure then turns around, and now I could see who they were. A boy, around the age of 12. He had a smile carved from one ear to the other. Eyelids burnt off, dark black ominous eyes, and long raven hair. He begins to make his way to the wardrobe...