Out of the Darkness
By Jessica Hutchinson
This is how it all began. I was sitting in my living room watching the news, when an advertisement came on TV. You know those police reports describing a wanted victim? Well it was similar to that, except one difference. The person that was shown on the screen was of a young boy, probably only five or six. They described this child as highly dangerous and likely to have killed more than 20 innocent people, all female and all having brown hair. Being a female with brown hair I began to worry. They then went to describe this child as having a fair complexion and fair hair. They warned all people in their homes on Sylvia Lane to watch out for this child as he was last seen around this area. I began to freak out as I was living in that area. I fitted that description perfectly. I began to nervously look outside my window. Trying to spot the young child but I was pitch black, so I could not see anything. I heard something behind me, just outside the back door. So I turned around to check but I couldn’t see anything.
“Hello?” I called out, but no answer.
Whatever it was it was probably my imagination. I decided to lock all the doors and windows anyway. As I walked towards the back door I spotted something on the window. When closer, I could see a scrap piece of paper with something scrawled on it in green pencil. I picked up the paper and read it. “I know your there, don’t be afraid. Come outside and play.” was written on the paper, in childish like writing. My heart was beating miles per minute, my palms where sweating pools. I quickly locked everything and ran to the phone. The phone was dead.
I ran up to my bedroom to grab my mobile. It had thirteen new messages, from someone I didn’t know. They all said the same thing, the same message that was on the note. Who was this child? How did he know my number? How did he know where I lived? I tried to call the police, but my mobile said I was out of range. I was all by myself with a strange, murderous kid!
I heard smashing glass downstairs. I grabbed my tennis racket and slowly walked downstairs. I could see that the window that had the note on it earlier was smashed and glass was all over the floor. But most frightening of all where the bloody child-like footprints leading to the bathroom. To afraid to move, I stood there listening for any sounds. I felt a drip on my face. Wiping it off, I noticed it was blood. I looked up and on the ceiling was another message, written in blood. It said “why won’t you play with me?”
I ran to the bathroom, holding the racket in both my hands ready to attack, when I heard crying. I lowered my racket and peered into the bathroom. Sitting in the corner of the bathtub was a little boy with fair skin and fair hair bawling his eyes out. I dropped my racket and walked to the little boy.
“What’s the matter little boy?” I asked him, almost forgetting he was a wanted criminal. The child just looked up and gave me an evil grin. Taking a knife out from behind him, he leaped at me. I ran through the house screaming, with the little boy running after me. I noticed that my racket was still back in the bathroom. But thought that there was nothing I could do with that. This boy had a knife. I suddenly remembered a gun I had hidden in my drawer upstairs. I ran to my bedroom and quickly closed the door before the child could enter. I then placed a chair against it to help even more. I could hear the child banging on the door. I quickly grabbed my gun and shot about three or so bullets through the door. The sound stopped. Suddenly realising what I had done I fell on the floor in tears.
The next day the police arrived and examined everything. The boy had been stalking me for a week, collecting any information he could about me. His parents were dead, shot by him of course, because they wouldn’t play with him.
This is a story that I wrote in thirty minutes. For English again. I love the whole Idea of it all, but I think I could have written it out better.