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He killed me

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It happened to me
You never think you would die… But I know who killed me.
It was August 17th 1993 I had graduated high school, and was on my way to collage. I was reminiscing about the good times with my friends. It was about 2 am. The lights flickered and went out… What the? I stood up the pictures fluttering to the floor. Why would the lights go out? I stood up my footsteps muted by the carpet. I walked out into the hallway and that’s when I realized something was wrong. Everything was quiet, too quiet. I stole down the stairs when a callused hand grabbed me from behind and I felt the cold metal of a knife up against my back.
I tried turning around but to no avail. I was about to scream when the knife dug into my skin piercing my back. I felt a little trail of blood trickle down my spine. Then a soft raspy voice began singing, what the hell? “Three little piggy’s up on a hill so far two got killed” Then he stopped, as if expecting some kind of fanfare. I needed help, and as if my prayers had been answered there was a knock on the door.
The capturer released my arm and shoved me into the entry way “Answer the door! But if you tell the person anything will kill you and that person!” I opened the door and there was my best friend, Sabrina. “Hey.” I smiled. Trying to not sound panicked, and unfortunately my pretence worked. “I saw your lights go out, are you ok?”
“Yes, fine, fine” My eyes darting around. I hoped this works. I couldn’t let my best friend, who I emulated, die. She exemplified everything I wanted to be. Her secular family, the adulated way her little brother acted toward her and I wanted to be her. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow!” I said sliding the door shut and turning back to face the murderer of my family. A tear slid across my face as I walked towards my death.
I finally got a look at his face. His face was mostly covered by a blonde beard, but there was red dripping off of it. He took the blade of the knife, covered in my blood, to his lips. He stuck out his tongue and licked the blade. My stomach tensed and I barfed all over the hydrangeas in a vase on the table. He chuckled darkly. He advanced and I turned around and darted towards the door.
“Oh no, you don’t! He screeched flinging the knife just as I reached the door it dragged down my shoulder, impaling my hand. I screamed then, the blood gushing out of my gash. He darted forward, his tongue trying to lap at the blood. I screamed in pain and terror and ran passed grabbing the knife and stabbing him in the arm. He howled in pain and ripped the knife out his arm ran after me in rage. I raced up the stairs, stupid I know, and into my bedroom blood gushing out of me and onto the rug. I sobbed and slammed the door. My arm stung and I looked down and I could see the bone. I shuddered and then began the banging.




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