Escape.
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- Parts 1
Complete Fri, Jan 8, 2016<5 mins
"MAMA!" Jonathan cries as he sits up on his bed before rubbing his eyes and slowly he sees a dark shadow moving and creaking the floors while he gasps loudly and cries out again "MAMA!" he slowly gets out of bed while his small feet thumps on the floor a bit and he walks over towards the door before peaking out the side of it a bit "Mama..?" He tilts his head a bit in a wonder as he opens his door slowly and walks out and down the hall to his moms room then peeps into the bathroom but he sees nothing and he sighs while he runs straight to her room, pushing the door and looks around inside her room "mama..please.." He gasps as he sees his mom drenched in a pot of blood in her bed and he falls to his knees, shaking and trembling while he hugs his knees and rocks back and fourth slowly "m-M-M-M-M-M--aaaa" before he could speak the door slams behind him and locks his up in there all you hear is Jonathan screaming in pain. Someone reports it the next morning and they find the bodies and takes them to the morgue as the cop checks into there files before shaking his head .."mama was evil.."
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#289
suspensful
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The boy stood in front of the bathroom mirror, a little too close, his tiny hands pressed against the cold surface. He smiled at his reflection, though it didn't smile back right away. He was used to this. It was always like that-he would smile, and then the reflection would follow, eventually. "Hi, there," the boy whispered, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet house. From the kitchen, the sound of pots clanging echoed, and his mother's humming filled the space. He could hear the rhythm of the spatula stirring in the pan, the sizzling of whatever she was cooking. His father, still seated at the dining table, rustled the newspaper, absorbed in the evening's headlines. "Mom, look, it's me," the boy called out, his eyes never leaving the mirror. He waited for her usual response-a glance over her shoulder, a quick nod of acknowledgment. But she didn't answer. She just hummed. The boy tilted his head, eyes narrowing. There was something about his reflection now that felt different, too still, too patient. "Hello?" His voice trembled slightly. "Why don't you say something?" In the reflection, his own lips parted in silent mockery. But this time, he swore it wasn't him. The boy swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. His reflection didn't mirror his every movement anymore. It was slightly delayed, like it was watching him instead. A whisper seemed to curl in the air around him, soft but distinct. "You're not alone here." His heart thudded. The voice, distant but clear, came from the mirror. "Who's there?" the boy asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His father grunted from the other room, and the boy glanced toward the dining table. His father was engrossed in his newspaper. The boy turned back to the mirror. The reflection was still staring, but now, something more than just the image of himself looked back. "Don't you want to play?" the reflection asked, its smile curling wider, unnaturally wide.
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