The Hour of Evil

782 Words2 Pages

It haunts me. That house just stalks my life, yet it stands still. I swear there is a ghost, I swear to god above. The windows are like dark eyes that stare deep into my soul, filling it with dark passion and rage. If I knock on the door, I feel the devil himself will open the door, ready to take me. So I stay cooped up in my room, in safety from the blasted building. Also, because my antics involving said house have made my parents think I'm insane, and they keep me locked in here with barred windows and locked doors. They may think I'm just ill in the head, but I know the truth. The house did this to me. It turned me psycho. But I have a plan. To sneak out of this room, and learn the secrets that house has to offer. As the darkness creeps closer and closer to midnight, I must get ready for my hour of evil.
I dress in all black and tied my hair back. I must look like a fool, but I know I can't be seen. My first challenge is the bars. I try to twist them lose, but I know that I'm too weak with exhaustion. My father has metal cutters; there with him and my mother as they lay in deep slumber. My only chance of leaving is getting those cutters. I struggle to unlock my door with a bobby pin, but I get the door open. I tiptoe my way down the hall. The bright white door that is my parents is now in front of me. I open the door, slowly to keep the noise at a minimal. I hear their slight snores battle against the silence. I put my trust in the street lights to guide me in the pitch black room. I almost give up, until I see the dim shimmer of metal. Yes, they're mine! I tiptoe back out of the room, listening to hear if they are stirring around in bed. Not a sound to be heard. Success. I enter my room and ready the clippe...

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...the house. Was last night just a dream? Maybe I was so tired I fell asleep right here. Well, whatever happened, my parents are going to kill me, Literally. I stumble off the floor, using the door knob to help me up. I get on my feet and twist the doorknob. It was stuck. I slam and slam but the door doesn't seem to open. I turn my back against it and let out a heavy breathe. The complete silence is interrupted by sobs. I look out the window to see my parents crying. My mother is in complete panic. They're pulling papers off all of the telephone posts. Missing flyers. With my picture on them.
"Calm down Hun. I know it's been a rough few weeks, but the police said it's no use anymore." A few weeks? There's so many question I have unanswered, until I look at my hands. They are as white as the boy who held them last. And I see the wood from the windowpane through them...

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