His eyes were wider than I ever imagined possible. He practically had no eyelids, with light blue irises and black pupils the size of pinpoints. There were red lines in the white spaces, signifying the lack of sleep he must've gotten in God knows how long. He was smiling, that much was blatantly obvious, but most of it was carved into his face, making it look unreal and forced.
Though I will never know why I didn't bring myself to breathe air and scream. I will never know why I didn't feel obligated to do what any normal person would in a situation like this. It was the way he held that blood dripping hunting knife, the way he gazed at me with such lust and excitement, as if he loved the thrill he got from seeing me in absolute terror. It was because of all of this that I was simply intrigued by him. His appearance terrified me in a way I found stunningly beautiful. It froze me in place, not allowing me to move or even muster up the courage to speak.
He was standing at the edge of the bed, and his sudden movement nearly got a scream out of me. I sucked in a breath when he jumped on the mattress I was sitting on. Before I could let a sound out (Not that I was able to), he was already in front of me, knife to my neck, covering my mouth with his repulsive, bloody hand. The sudden chill of the sharp piece of metal on my skin made me whimper.
"Shh," He told me.
Oh, God, I thought. I'm going to die.
It wasn't like the thought of dying scared me. I knew everybody had to go sometime, and that included myself. It was the fact that it was happening right now, right here, like this. In the short seventeen years of my life, I had never expected to be brutally murdered in my own bedroom. Just the thought brought tears to my eyes, letting one slip out and roll down my cheek as I said my last prayers to whatever God was up there.
At least I'll see Nana.
But strangely, as I waited for everything to turn black, as I waited for pain and then nothing, his smile died down (If that was even possible), and he slowly lowered the knife. He removed his hand from my face, leaving a mess of thick red liquid around the area. The texture and the smell of it made me want to vomit. I took in one shaky breath as the bright eyed boy studied me intently. He was closer to me this time, his face merely inches from mine, making a light shade of pink creep up to my cheeks that I cursed myself for letting him see.
His eyebrows were furrowed together in frustration like he was deep in thought. I wasn't sure if it was safe for me to cease the moment as an opportunity to call for help, because right now, it seemed like a good idea, but he startled me by putting a less bloody hand to my cheek, softly and gentle this time. His next word confused me.
"Rose?" His head tilted to the side a bit in curiosity. I just stared at him dumbly and blinked.
"Who?" I asked, my voice coming out small like a child's. The next voice snapped both of us back to reality.
"Madeline?" It was my mom. The boy jumped up at the sudden voice, and as quick as a cat, he was off my bed and out my window, disappearing as if he was never there to begin with. "Maddie, are you up here?" I heard her footsteps coming up the stairs towards my room. I sat there, baffled, my mouth agape. Putting my hand to my face, I felt that it was still wet with the blood he had left there.
"Uh, yeah, mom!" I called. Panicking, I fumbled to grab the blanket at my feet and quickly wiped it all off right as my mom walked through the door. I folded it so she wouldn't see the mess.
"Hey," She said when she saw me, giving me a smile. "What are you still doing up?"
"I, uh... Couldn't sleep." You could say that again. I cleared my throat. "How was your date with dad?"
"Just fine, actually. Although, I wish we would've picked a cheaper restaurant, but your dad insisted on Italian food." She rolled her almond eyes that matched mine. I just smiled, but there was no heart in it. She must've noticed this too.
"Are you alright?"
I nodded a little too fast. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You look a little pale." She came and sat next to me on the bed and started to feel my face. "Maybe you're getting sick. But you're not warm." I waved her hand away and let out a laugh as she palmed me all over.
"I'm fine, mom," I told her, but I really wasn't. She gave me an unsure look but, to my luck, didn't question it further.
"Get some sleep, hon." She stood up then, about to exit the room when she turned back to me. With a glance to my window she said, "And don't forget to close that. You don't want someone breaking in." The irony of her statement stole all the breath from my lungs, and all I could do was nod and swallow the giant lump in my through before she left, closing the door behind her.
As soon as she was gone, I shot out of bed, taking the bloody blanket with me and stuffed it in the trashcan in my bathroom. I didn't want to feel it, I didn't want to look at it, I didn't want anything to do with it. Who the hell knows who's blood was on that thing. Before I walked out, I studied myself in the mirror. Mom was right, I did look pale. Taking a bar of soap from the counter, I turned on the tap and began to scrub away on my face. I scrubbed hard and fast, as if I was trying to wash away the memory of what I had just experienced, to no avail. Nothing would ever make me forget what I saw, ever.
After drying my face, I dug through the medicine cabnet for some sleeping pills. Figuring I'd make no progress in falling asleep on my own, I took two and walked back to my room. The light wind was blowing my blue curtains. I stomped over to them and slammed the window shut, double checking to make sure it was securely locked. I yanked the curtains shut and stood back, once again breathing heavily. Running an unsteady hand through my hair, I decided that it wasn't in my best interest to lose sleep that night. I had a paper to work on in the morning and a birthday party to attend later that evening, and I was not going to show up looking like a zombie.
Taking a deep breath, I laid down with a brand new, clean, non-death-contaminated blanket. For a long while, I did nothing but stare at the dim ceiling above me. The faint glow-in-the-dark stars I had stuck up there when I was ten barely had any light left in them. In fact, I think the boy's eyes were brighter than any real star I had ever seen. Realizing that made my thoughts drift over to him again. The only question that seemed to keep coming up in my head was why. Why am I still alive? Why didn't he kill me? Why did he come here?
But the most important question, the one I wondered the most was, Who is Rose? He had mistaken me for some other girl named Rose, but who was that? Why was she important? Perhaps, that's why he didn't kill me, because I reminded him of a friend or a family member named Rose. It made sense, and if that was the case, then I was one lucky person to have had a similar face to this girl. But then again, there was also the possibility that he would come back. What if now that he knows I'm not her, he'll come back to finish where he left off? What if he decided to murder my family as well? What if-
"Ugh, stop it!" I whisper shouted to myself, smacking my forehead. And I was right to do that. There really was no excuse for my outrageous thoughts, and I always did this to myself. Freaked myself out to the point where it caused ridiculous paranoia that I wouldn't be able to get rid of for weeks.
I sat up and turned to my desk, grabbing the strongest, most toxic perfume I owned. It was a lame defense weapon, but it came exceptionally close to pepper spray, so I placed it under my pillow for reassurance. If he was to come back, boy, were his unblinking eyes going to get it.
Thankfully, the sleeping pills were starting to take affect, as my eyes were growing heavy, and my body was feeling sluggish. No more than five minutes later, I was out like a light. Of course, the last thing I thought about was his face. The very face that will forever be imprinted on my brain.
And that's when I knew, sleep would be nearly, if not entirely impossible the next few days.
Hello, my lovelies! Okay, so I'm pretty doubtful that I will be turning this into a full on chapter story, since it's pretty lame already (Plus, my stalling on my actual novel has been absolutely ridiculous). But if you guys liked it and would like for that to happen, then let me know in your reviews/comments and I will definitely continue with this. It's something I've had in mind for a while (Since I'm like, obsessed with 'Creepypasta') and I literally wrote this entire chapter on the car ride to Disneyland a few weeks ago, so it's something I'd enjoy doing. Anyways, thank you all for reading and have a great and sunny day! Vale!
-SARAHJO