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Chapter One

The boy woke up, it was morning. The sun was shining on his face. He blinked a couple of times, adjusting to the light before he got out of bed and left his room. His father wasn't around as of yet, he would come home soon. As the boy walked through his house towards the kitchen he stopped in front of the TV. He turned the Tv off then looked at the wall clock. It read 6:47 AM. His father must be home already. The young boy put away his clothes and went down to the kitchen to make breakfast.

As he was making pancakes he heard a voice speak behind him. "Mama made me wake you up!" said the young boy.

"It's six o'clock, son." said the man, entering the kitchen. "We're going to be late for work. Let's go."

The young boy frowned at his father as he picked up some cereal, and threw it back into the bowl. After eating breakfast the two left the house. The family drove to their job and got to work. By the end of the day the boy had gotten home. The house was quiet when he entered, which wasn't so unusual. But this time there wasn't anyone else inside. Usually his father would have been home early. He knew what happened when his father got home late.

"Dad? Where's papa?" he asked, walking past the kitchen and into the living room. He saw nobody in the living room. The couch was empty too. The boy began to walk down the hall to their bedroom. When he reached the door he stopped, his hand raised towards it.

Why am I stopping? I'm sure he's gone to his own home. The young boy opened the door and stepped inside. He shut the door behind himself quietly. As he did the young boy noticed something odd. The curtains were drawn over the window, and the blinds on his father's side of the bed were closed tight. The only source of light in the room was coming from under the door of the bathroom. The boy stepped closer to the door slowly. There was nothing wrong. He could feel it. Something was wrong. The boy took another step forward. Then another. Suddenly the young boy felt his heart beat faster. He took another step and the feeling intensified, growing stronger. He felt dizzy. He grabbed hold of the bathroom doorknob to steady himself. Why can't I see anything? What is this thing inside me? A chill shot up his spine as a loud thud came from the other side of the bathroom door. Was someone else here? He tried to open the bathroom door, but it wouldn't budge. He looked back into his room for an escape route. He didn't think about how much noise he was making. Then it hit him.

What the heck am I gonna do!?

He was trapped in the bedroom. The only way to leave the house was through the bathroom door. With one last glance over his shoulder he ran to the bathroom. On the way he passed the bed. His father wasn't on the mattress anymore. Instead, the bed sheets were covered in blood. The young boy froze as he stared at the blood splattered across the bed. He stumbled backwards, falling on his butt. The boy scrambled away, his eyes wide with fright. That wasn't normal, right? He wasn't supposed to be able to move that fast. Maybe...maybe I should stay in my room and wait until Papa comes home. Yeah, that'll be safer. The boy pushed himself to his feet and ran out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He fell onto his knees and buried his head in his hands. He stayed like that for several minutes, letting his breathing slow. Then he sat back on his heels and glanced around the room. His breathing became more normal, he still looked terrified, but the shaking of his arms and legs had calmed down. Finally, he stood up, brushed himself off, and went back to the bedroom. He pulled the covers off of the bed, revealing a pair of bloody shoes, socks, and pants strewn all over the floor. The boy gasped in fear. He didn't know where his father could have gone. Did he hurt Mama? He had the look in his eyes that she had described earlier; it was a murderous look. The young boy swallowed thickly, the image of his father killing his mother still fresh in his mind. The boy shook his head slightly, trying to shake off the memory. He grabbed a few things from the closet and put them in a plastic bag. The boy hesitated a little bit longer, looking at the door.

I really shouldn't, I've never left the room since...since yesterday. What if something happens while I'm outside? The thought made the boy shudder. He grabbed the bags and carefully carried them outside. The house was locked. The boy sighed, knowing that even though his father locked the door his keys would probably be on the ring on the table. The boy walked towards the door, trying to remember if his father had left any tools on the table. Unfortunately, he hadn't. The boy put the bags next to the house and opened the gate. He walked up to the house again and climbed the front stairs to his bedroom.