Under the Bed

I didn’t hear him come in; he was completely silent. The only reason why I even noticed that somebody walked into the room was the creaking of the broken floorboards—he stepped right on the one floorboard that needed to be replaced. When I heard the loud squeaking sound, I rolled out of bed and went under it, squeezing myself in as far as I could.

“Where the hell did that little brat go?” he grumbled with anger. His heavy boots crashed into the squeaking boards with every step, obviously making himself present in the room.

He walked over to the bed and stopped. The front of his boots were covered in a red spatter, a faint smell of iron coming off of them. Fear overwhelmed me, my vision starting to get blurry and my heartbeat pounding in my ear drums. The urge to scream out for help again was strong, but I bit down on my mouth as a precaution in case I unknowingly did it. Please don’t let him look under the bed.

The boots stood there for a moment, just a few inches away from me. The man grunted and the boots turned around, walking to the other side of the room. My sight was cut off from the bed, but all I could see was up to his waist now. In one of his back pockets there was a small, clover-shaped charm hanging out.

He has my car keys! How am I suppose to get out of here now?

He started for the closet, his boots stopping right in front of the door. Just from hearing the loud snaps, I could tell that the door was suddenly yanked from its hinges and fell right to the ground. “Where are ya, girl? I’m getting real tired of looking. Come out now, and maybe I’ll go easy on ya.”


Copyright © 2019 by Luka Tatsujo

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