Please read! it would mean the world!
It was a quiet night. My parents were out for an anniversary, and since I was only six, my 15 year old sister was left in charge of me. I was watching her sleep from across the room. The sheets of her light blue bed moved up and down to her heart’s beat. Her eyes were lightly closed, but her sleep was deep. Both of her hands were resting gently at her side and her auburn hair swept off the bed.
Then, downstairs a door squeaked open. Good, I thought to myself. Mom and Dad are home, I can go to bed. I snuggled deeper under my blankets, about to drowse off. But the slow creak of the bedroom door opening across the hall made me alert. I looked over at my sister, just 10 feet away, not disturbed by my parents who just opened the guest room door.
Then our door creaked open, I took another peak at my sister, then pretended to be sleeping so I wouldn’t get in trouble for being up late. Usually, Mom or Dad would march over to the bed and kiss me and my sister on the forehead. But that didn’t happen. When a few seconds had passed, I cracked open my eyes.
There was someone in here, but it wasn’t my Mom or Dad. It was a person I could not see the face of. I could only see they were dressed in all black, from a mask, to gloves, to shoes. They were facing away from me, only inches away from my sister. I didn’t say anything. The person stared at my sister for almost a minute, before they pulled out a long, curved knife.
That’s when my sister opened her eyes. Still drowsy, she mumbled quietly but alert, “oh my gosh is that-“
Then the person in black cut off her speech, slicing her throat in half. I held back tears as I saw the person in black examine my dead sister’s throat. The person turned around on their heels and wiped the blood from the knife onto their black jacket. I still couldn’t see the person’s face, thanks to the hockey mask.
The person then noticed me. My heart beat at an unsteady pace, for I knew the person was going to kill me. Though, instead the person gently put a finger to their lips, telling me to be quiet. Then inch by inch, the person walked towards me, still holding the knife out.
This is it. I thought holding my breath. Then, the person placed the knife on my bed, centimeters away from me, so close, I could see my reflection. “She was a bad one,” the person whispered before they jumped out the bedroom window, slipping into darkness.
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