An echo of clicking heals surrounded me. they grew louder. a figure appeared, out of the darkness. a man dressed in all black. something was different about this man. he looked familiar yet different all the same.
his cold green eyes glared at me. his build was scrawny, he looked weak. but something told me this man could draw blood when he wanted to.
He wanted to
thinking back on the man , i remembered who he looked like.A person i never wanted to see again. My father.
No.No that couldn't be him.Yes it was as hard as it was to admit it, those eyes i would recognize anywhere. But he is dead, seven years last night. also i realized what was different about him, he was almost transparent.
i woke to a strong throbbing pain in in my back. My fingers grew cold i ran my hand up my shirt, slowly. a sharp pang of pain rushed though me, warm wetness clung to my fingers. i rubbed them together, the red liquid dripped away. blood. he must have stabbed me.
i need to clean it.
standing under the shower head letting the warmness relax me. light red water swirled down the steal drain.That man couldn't have been my father he just couldn't, i thought. He is dead. He was dead.
i glanced at my wrist, the scar was still there. another time he had hurt me. a razor was involved that time. a jagged line crawled over my wrist.my fingers gently traced it.