Crossed

I walked from the kitchen toward the basement door, pausing for a moment to make sure no one had seen me.

My hand hovered over the knob as I debated whether this was even a good idea.

I let out a small breath, then twisted it open.

I closed the door behind me and slowly walked downstairs.

When I reached the bottom, I stopped.

My eyes slowly lifted.

There was a boy, rather man, sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. His head was lowered, like he had given up.

Then I noticed blood.

"Oh my God," I whispered.

I took a careful step forward without thinking, despite every warning in my head.

The moment I moved closer, he lifted his head.

I froze.

My breath caught completely in my chest.

I recognized those eyes.

It was him.

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