Lozza's Home

I could feel his eyes on my ass, as I was pulled to my destination by the trolley that weighed more than a stone. Hungry eyes, were laid on me, making a shiver run down my spine, imagining it was his finger instead drawing a line down my naked back. His breath fanning down on the back of my bare neck as he peppered kisses along my shoulders. Biting my lip as I could feel that all too familiar tingling feeling, thinking of all the things I would let him do to me. Butterflies danced around my stomach stirring up emotions that I haven’t felt in a long time. Oh, the things I would let him do to me if I had the chance.

Bang!

I was shot out of my fantasy by the sound of my trolley hitting the flimsy doors leading me to the trolley’s home. I let out a little squeak in surprise, the next thing I heard was a deep chuckle behind me, but when I turned to look there was nobody there. Letting this strange occasion go over my head, I decided to carry on by dumping the trolley in the old, tattered building and went on with my work like I hadn’t had such a heated daydream.

I didn’t see the dread locked, hunk for a few hours after the incident. Yet I could still feel his dark, mysterious eyes on me throughout the day. The look in his eyes were imprinted on my mind as I went on with my daily tasks. That tingle down my spine still present, every time I think of that dark look he gives me, behind them I know something lurks deep inside. Maybe a dark secret that I will never know. Although I didn’t see him, I knew he was still here as his old, battered, black Ford Fiesta was still parked in his usual spot, right next to mine. It was as if knowing how crazy he makes me feel, as if he could read my thoughts, his car was always right next to mine. Sometimes when I go on my break, I will find him there, stood leaning against his car with a cigarette hanging out of his perfect, kissable lips. His tiger eyes stalking my every move like I was his prey. I could have sworn I have seen him lick his lips from time to time as he looks me up and down. The air was always thick whenever I was near him, I’m surprised I have never choked on it. It was like a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the bang and we would be on top of each other, having our way with one another. But little did I know, today was the day that clock went bang!

Oblivious to the world around me, all I could think about was getting out of this hell hole and making my way home to my bed. Just as I was about to clock out, a hand clasped around my wrist and as quick as a flash I was whisked away into the nearest room. With a bang the door slammed behind us bringing me back into the real world, I was pushed against the wall within seconds after and before I could even yell for help a hand was placed over my mouth. The familiar fragrance of cigarette smoke clouded up my nose as I look deep into the tiger’s eyes. I felt like a fragile gazelle trapped in its predator’s grips, who knew this could be the last breath she would ever take. Tingles danced throughout my body as our naked skin touched one another. I could barely register what was going on when he grabs both of my hands and places them above my head. I knew this was a good time to call for help but there was a voice inside of me telling me not to. He leaned in closer, sandwiching me between him and the wall, getting as close as humanly possible placing his face right next to my neck. He was that close I could feel his breath fanning down on me. His nose brushed against my skin as he inhales my scent.

‘Hmmm’ he groaned in my ear, ‘you smell just like I imagined you would all this time’. My heart stopped for a second as I didn’t know whether to be scared or turned on.

‘Sweet and tasty’ he moaned as he inhaled my scent once again, knowing I wasn’t going anywhere, he let go of my hands and ran his fingers down my face.

‘He’s been thinking about me as well. I guess I am not the only one who feels this magnetic pull between the pair of us,’ I had thought to myself, as confusion spread around me like a virus spreading from country to country. All this time, I was thinking I was the jealous, crazy, obsessive person when he was just the same. Maybe we are a match made in heaven.

I was startled once more because as if by magic, his eyes went from brown to pitch black confusing me even more. ‘Mine’ he growled animalistically. Before I could pull away from this guy, he dived right into my neck biting down hard leaving a mark.

It was the strangest feeling I had ever felt in my life, a mixture of pain and pleasure. I could physically see sparks fly off us and across the room. It felt like two souls were being mixed into one, making me feel complete. It felt like a dream that I never wanted to wake up from, I was in the arms of the man I hadn’t been able to get out of my head for the past year. It was heaven to me. I never wanted to let go of this moment. Sadly, that time seemed to come quicker than I expected as he pulled away from our embrace. His eyes looked straight down at the handy work, he had made on my neck, with pride sparkling in them. The sort of pride that an artist gets when he looks at his final piece. My blood smeared all over his lips, making me want to lean in and taste them. My fantasy was broken as he decided to step away from me, taking all the warmth and tingles I had been feeling in his embrace, turning his back on me. Confusion hit me like a dagger to the heart, but not for long as it was cleared up by the sound of water running out of a tap. Looking around, I started to take in the room I had been shoved in, noticing that this was the disabled toilet that nobody seemed to use. I was pulled out of my thoughts, with a cold sensation on the side of my neck, mixed with a mild sting as I realised that he was cleaning my wound. Finishing it off with one final wipe, he then leaned in a placed a soft peck on the mark.

Leaning closer to my ear again, he whispered, ‘there now everyone will know that you are mine and not to touch you. Otherwise, they will face the consequences.’

Without another word, once again he turned his back on me and left the room. However, not before sending me a cheeky wink my way, leaving me dazed and confused. Was this all just a sick, twisted dream that I was going to wake up soon in my bed any minute now. Was he just playing games with me. Toying with my emotions because he knew he could. Placing my hand on the bite, I could feel the delve that he had left on me. I didn’t know what had just happened or understand what horrors was going to happen to me next. If I did, I would have moved to the opposite side of the world, to avoid him.

Not long after the bite, I learnt that the dreadlocked, hunks name was Sam, and he was 30 years old. For the first few weeks’ life with Sam was like a fairy tale, he was the perfect gentleman. I couldn’t have asked anymore from him. He opened the door for me every time we came to one, he would buy me a bunch of flowers with sweet notes attached to them every a week, take me out on dates to extravagant yet expensive places and was always asking me questions about my life. Overall, he was the perfect boyfriend, I couldn’t believe I had bagged myself such a prize. The only thing that bugged me about Sam was that I knew nothing about him. He was so secretive and when I tried to ask him something, he would always weasel himself out of answering it. It was like he had something to hide but little did I know how big of a thing he was hiding from me.

You see Sam was in a cult. However, he wasn’t just in the cult, he was the future leader of this group gathering after his father decided to retire from the ‘family business’ as they liked the call it. Therefore, he had to make a good example for the younger members of the group, so they would follow in line and respect him as their leader. Making his upbringing strict to the rules of their little group and there was no short cutting in their way of life. In their belief, it was the husband’s responsibility to provide and protect the family and the wife’s responsibility to look after the children raising them right, keeping the house clean and making sure that the dinner was on the table. How the male finds his perfect partner was a different story, you see Sam’s cult believed that from the day you are born, a higher power connects you too another soul. That soul being your soulmate, the person you will spend eternity with. When that person is found then the male will mark the female by biting down on their neck making them become one. Sam knew from the minute he laid eyes on me that I was the one for him, but he knew that I was an outsider to his world and wasn’t brought up with his teachings. So, in a way I guess he was trying to ease me into his ways, instead of being like other men in his culture, becoming dominant over the female straight away. It wasn’t until we had been dating a month, when I started to see another side to Sam, when he decided to introduce me to his parents.

It was an exciting day for me, I had never been introduced to any of my previous partner’s parents, but it also scared me a little as I had no idea, we were this serious. I mean I knew nothing about this guy and yet here I was stood outside his house waiting his meet his parents. I mean they called it a home, but it looked like it was more of a public building to me. The gigantic doors were wedged wide open, inviting anyone to just walk in and look around. Men, women, boys, and girls of all ages would be found entering and leaving this building. There was a field behind the property that stretched for miles, but was bordered around by a massive fence, highlighting what was their land. It confused me so much, I mean Sam couldn’t live in a place like this. It looked more like a museum than a place you would call home. I mean there was no privacy for one and there can’t have be much room for the people that were found stepping in and out of the place.

Before I could question Sam, a woman with a gigantic smile painted on her face approached us, squealed in excitement ‘Oh Sam, honey it’s so nice to see you again, it’s been too long’, and enveloped him into a hug.

Uncomfortable with her close contact, Sam tried to pull away from her grip but failed to do so as she only pulled him in tighter. Grumbling in embarrassment, he stressed, ‘I have been gone for 2 hours, Mom how can you miss me that much already’.

Before, she could even reply she was cut off by a tall, strict looking man, ordering her to ‘Let go of your son, Patricia, you are embarrassing him in front of his mate’. He had a look in his eye that screamed dominance and I really wouldn’t want to be on the other end of that glare.

Patricia was about to open her mouth to defend herself but was shot down by the cruel man demanding, ‘Did I stutter, Patricia!’.

Letting go of her son, she bowed her head in submission and placed both arms by her side, she replied with, ‘No Sir’.

‘Good now do as your told or next time I won’t be so kind’, he threatened with gritted teeth, turning towards me his eyes seemed to soften a little as he questioned, ‘You must be our Sam’s mate’.

With a nervous smile placed on my face, I replied, ‘Yes, I guess I am.’

I didn’t understand why, something seemed to change in his face, like I had done something to offend him. He must have given Sam a funny look as I could see Sam’s face change instantly, like he was supposed to have told me something before meeting his parent’s. He replied with an aggressive undertone in his voice, ‘Well aren’t you the confident one’, he then whispered something to himself, something that I couldn’t make out, as he turned his back on us and walked towards the doors. Like he was some sort of God we followed him and everyone around him cleared a path for him, making me wonder what sort of place Sam was living in.

Just as we were about to reach the doors, I felt Sam grab my hand and tug me closer towards him. His voice filled with a sort of aggression I had never heard from him before, Sam whispered in my ears, ‘Don’t speak unless I tell you, does that make sense’.

Daring not to open my mouth, I decided not to say a word, so I just nodded in reply, which seemed to make him happy. Not another word was spoken between the pair of us, until we were in the dining room.

For the whole of the dinner, I felt like I was walking on glass as I listened to the men talk politics. It was like me, and Patricia weren’t in the room, as we sat there slurping the wine and eating the food the men had chosen for us. Patricia didn’t even dare look in my direction as she just kept her head down, waiting for the next instruction to come out of her husband's mouth. I was getting a taster of what life was going to be like living under the Wilson’s household and I wasn’t liking it one bit. I refused to live a life like this, where I am controlled by a man. Looking back now, I was so naive to think I could just walk away from all this, without Sam putting up a fight. It was like Sam could read my thoughts or at least sense my body language because that night he never let me out of his sight. I don’t fully understand why or how this all happened, but since that night, I have never set a foot outside the gates that caged around the property. I haven’t seen my family since the night I told them I was going to meet Sam’s parent’s. I still don’t know why my parents have never come looking for me or at least come storming into the property demanding where their daughter was. All I do know is that this cult was very powerful and had ways of getting people to comply with their demands. In a way I am happy they haven’t been tangled in the web, this cult has been making as I have younger siblings and it would break my heart to see them in the position, I find myself in today.

So here I am 6 years on. Here I am a prisoner trapped in here for my own good. Well that’s what they tell me. That I should be happy as I have everything I wanted; a loving husband (more like possessive); 5 beautifully healthy kids (all produced under non-consensual sex); a big house (that houses another 50 people) and a caring, understanding extended family (who were just a bunch of delusional people). However, this was far from what I wanted to do with my life, I wanted to go out to see the world, to spread my wings and fly. Not be some bird trapped in a cage, pregnant at aged 18 with a man she couldn’t stand to look at, let alone pretend to love. I wanted to find love, not be forced into it, then to have at most 3 beautiful children. That would be brought up in a nice, private house and showed what real love was. But instead, here I am every day faking a smile, a laugh and basically my whole marriage just to give my children the impression that we are a happy family. I still feel guilty about it because I am bringing them up showing them not what real love looks like. Sometimes I fear that someday they will be able to see past the fakery and see the pure hate I have for Sam. That someday they will find out how they were conceived. Something that I really didn’t want them to see, because knowing that they know the truth would really break my heart.

Little did I know when I woke up this morning, today was the day that I would have my first brush with death. Getting up as normal, I changed in my usual checked shirt and jeans. Do my make up natural to make me look alive. Since the pervious night I had been out on the town. I do my morning routine, have my normal breakfast, brush my long black hair and brush my teeth before heading out to do my weekly shop.

The morning cool breeze blow the cobwebs out of my eyes making me feel less like a zombie and more human. Just like normal my street was filled the sounds of arguing couples, crying children and dogs barking to get back into the house. Yes, my little street in Sunnyset was the noisest street in the whole of the crime riddled town. We may have been noisy but at least we didn't have the police out every night like Burton street did. It was known as the 'skid row' of Texas. Our little town, in the centre of the state, has had the most crimes committed in the whole state of Texas for the past 3 decades. Burton Street was its capital for crime. From murder to rapes, sexual assaults to burglary. Burton Street had it all committed, at least one of these crimes being committed at least daily. Burton Street was the longest street in our little town. It was so long it takes an hour to power walk from one end to the other. Right in the middle of it was a supermarket called Dolly's. This was where the majority of the Sunnyset's population would get their food shop, including me. This is where my story really begins.

Now Dolly's was a quick 15 minute drive for my house. Meaning that it was really convenient for me. However, being right in the centre of 'skid row', it did attract a lot of crime. So maybe some of you out there wouldn't be too shocked to hear it was here that I thought my life would end. I stepped out my car, grab my bags and made my way to the shop entrance like usual. I was about half way through my shop when I heard a gun shot breaking the calm environment that was in the shop. I could hear them shouting for everyone to get down and don't move or they would be shot dead. I did as I was told, face planting the floor as I didn't want to see what was going on. Which was a big mistake, as not being able to see what was going on, made it ten times worse than being able to see. My heart pounded ten to a dozen as I heard the footsteps. They came closer and closer until I could feel the fanning of someone's breath on the back of my neck. I could smell his alcohol soaked breath mixed with the stench of his body odour. This guy really hadn't had a shower in a while. The hair on the back of my neck stood up to attention like a soldier on role call. I could have sworn that he took a whiff of me. Letting out a groan in arousal. Was this freak getting off on the fear I was giving off or was it just my imagination going wild. Then I felt his presence behind me disappear with his footsteps. I couldn't take the suspense anymore. So I decided to slowly turned my head to the left to find no one there. Then I turned it to the right to find the same outcome. I slowly decided I was going to sit up. Unfortunately for me, little did I know that was going to be the biggest mistake of my life.

Just as I was starting to move onto my elbows, I heard a massive bang coming from behind me. The most unbelievable pain shot through my body starting from my right leg. I belted out the most loud and agonizing scream I have ever done. As I heard another gun shot and another shot hit me but this time the pain came from the bottom of my spine. I knew that if I was to survive this, then I was never going to be able to walk again with a injury as bad as this. I could barely breath with all the pain I was under. Blood pooled out of my wounds. Making every second that I laid on this cold dirty floor, the less likely I was going to come out of the end of this. I could feel the grim reapers boney cold hands on my shoulders as darkness swirled around me. The last thing I heard was the sirens of police cars and ambulances arriving before I finally past out from all the pain.

Was I dead?

Was the first conscious thought I had as a light at the end of the tunnel vision I had, woke me from my slumber. The light started to grow and grow and grow until it finally filled to whole room I was in. It revealed that I was in fact laid in a hospital bed. I was hooked up to few machines that kept me going. Luckily I was that dobbed up with pain killers that I didn't feel the same excruciating pain that I had felt in the shop. A shiver ran up my spine remembering what had just in what felt like two minutes ago. But turns out what I thought was a couple of minutes was in fact a whole month in real time. If I hadn't woke up today, my family had decided that they were going to pull the plug on me. Which saddened me deeply.

Never mind broke bones, sprained wrists, twisted joints even a measly paper cut. No pain can compare to a broken heart. That feeling where you feel like your heart is being ripped straight out of your chest leaving a black hole. But personally I think its the heart palpitations that you feel have to be the worst symptom. This rises bile from your stomach into the back of your throat making you feel sick. It feels like your heart is going to be broken forever. That nothing in this world will be able to fix it. If you are lucky sometimes someone else comes along and fixes your heart for you. But the way I am feeling right now. I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon.

I don't understood why I feel this way. I mean we never were a item. Hell, sometimes we wouldn't speak for days, weeks. Heck, one time we didn't even speak for a whole month. Yet every day I yearned for you. I silently begged for your attention. Just one more of those small intermate conversations, that we used to have. That made me think that perhaps, just maybe you felt that spark too. That you trusted me enough to talk to be about your dark past. Sometimes I would look into your brown doe eyes and they would sparkle with delight. I swear sometimes your pupil's would dilated when you would look at me. A big chester cat like smile would be plastered on your face, whenever you looked at me, even though deep inside I knew you were in pain. I wonder if she can look through the face mask that you put on every day. Does she even know about your past? The pain you have suffered. The depths you had to go to survive. If she did know would she still be here today by your side.

I think not.

I remember the day the two of you became public like it was yesterday. Everyone was so happy for you but there was no surprise since you did spent a lot of time together in and outside of work. Going to fancy restaurants, holidaying in luxury hotels on tropical island and let's not forget the shopping sprees you went on. Only god knows, how on earth, you were able to pay for it all. But I guess it was all worth it when your buddies high fived you while her girlfriends giggled and asked her the usual questions. I seemed to be the only one who didn't seem to care about the two of you. I was jealous, she was everything I wasn't and I couldn't blame you for taking the chance. She was beautiful, confident, joyful, intelligent and well she had things going for her. She had long blond hair that she would sometimes curl. She would apply her makeup naturally. Sometimes she would look like Aphrodite herself. She had men falling at her feet wherever she went. It was like her beauty put them in a trance. They would do anything for her attention. It was a wonder why you never got jealous. But I guess you trusted her. I wouldn't have.

She maybe beautiful, confident, joyful, intelligent and have a good future but trusting is one thing I know for sure she wasn't. What is a relationship if it doesn't have trust. But she doesn't realise how lucky she is to have you. You worship her like a goddess. How does she repay you? By sleeping with almost every guy at work. Your so called friends didn't seem to mention to you that your girlfriend was the biggest whore in town. In fact it wouldn't surprise me if they were laughing behide your back.

I remember the day, that I saw her in another mans arms. It was our annual Christmas party and she had decided to pop out for a cigarette. After about ten minutes I decided I would go outside for a bit of fresh air since in was getting unbearably hot in the club. That was when I saw it. Their lips locked and arms embracing one another. You would have though they were a couple of cannibals, with the way they were sucking each others faces off. I just couldn't believe what I was seeing. She had the most handsome, loyal, kind and caring boyfriend that anyone could ask for. Yet here she was throwing it all away for some guy who probably didn't even know her name.

Anger bubbled up inside of me like a kettle. I could physically feel the steam bursting out of my ears as I hit boiling point. It took all my might not to go and separate the pair of them. Not to grab her by the shoulders and give her a shake. Tell her what she was screwing up. However, like the coward I am I just turned around and walked away. Pretending that I saw nothing.

For the next couple of weeks I kept seeing her lock lips with at least 20 other different guys. It was like the universe was torturing me. First watching the guy I loved with his arms around another women. Then having to watch her time and time again cheating on him while he is oblivious to the whole situation. I didn't know what was most painful the fact that he was so madly in love with her or that she had been cheating on him and I knew all about it.

But I had made my decision to keep out of it. So here I sit underneath my favourite tree rethinking my situation and what I should do. I really want to tell you. But seeing you the way I feel right now hurts me more. The feeling of cool wind in my hair took my breath away. It knocked me back into reality. Making me make my final my decision.

The high street is dying,

The government isn't even trying,

People losing their jobs,

Forcing them to join the mobs,

People are suffering,

Their lives are buffering,

Some losing their homes,

Others taking out loans,

Owing a lot to the sharks,

Selling stuff in the parks,

Just to make a bit of dough,

How did they sink this low,

They sell to unsuspecting kids,

Who only have a couple of quids,

The life of crimes seems to be the way,

To get some really good pay,

It may seem really selfish,

Making the world become hellish,

But why should they give a shit,

When their life is falling into a pit,

With more having these views,

Making the town go down the loo,

People avoid this town,

Making business go further down,

More businesses become affected,

The locals feel more dejected,

Now this town is full of ghosts,

Not even being on the coast,

Can make people want to go back,

To a place that is such a wreck,

All locals can do it sit back and watch,

The wind blows through my hair,

Whispering secrets into my ears,

Telling me the secrets of the sea,

What goes on miles from here.

My feet sink into the sand,

Deeper and deeper they sink,

With each step I take,

I feel like it'll swallow me whole.

The sea collides with the seabed,

It's sound a beautiful melody,

A melody that gives me peace,

A melody that clears my head.

The sky is crystal clear,

Not a cloud in the sky,

Not one fluffy white sheep,

Can be seen frolicking around.

Seaweed is littered across the sand,

The sea being the culprit of this crime,

Pushing the weeds up the sand,

Leaving them in such random places.

They wrap around your ankles,

A slimy and sticky sensation,

Making most people cringe,

At such an unpleasant feeling.

Seagulls fly high in the sky,

Giving them a good view,

To dive bomb unexpected people,

With their favourite seaside treat.

As the sun goes down,

The moon comes out to play,

And the once crowded beach,

Becomes a deserted place.

With nobody out to disturb them,

Out come the creatures of the night,

Hoovering up every last crumb,

That had been left behind.

Stepping through my front door,

I wave goodbye to the day,

That had gifted us fine weather,

Her blood splattered on the walls,

As her screams travels down the halls,

It dricked down towards the floor,

But nobody came to the door,

Nobody could hear her screams,

It seemed like it was a bad dream,

A dream that would never end,

Not even one of her many friends,

Came to her save her from this loon,

Who would end her life very soon,

She could hear the angels calling,

As well as her mother's bawling,

She shouldn't have entered that house,

The one that stood quiet like a mouse,

But it did call out another adventure,

That could lead to a risky venture,

Now the only place she was going,

To the light in the tunnel that's glowing,

Hopefully up high into the sky,

Where she will rise to meet the big guy,

The guy who decides who is allowed in,

And who is about to get the bin,

She has tried to be good,

And never joined the hood,

Always showing nothing but care,

Treating everyone fair,

So as she say her final goodbyes,

There once was a creepy old man,

Who was hatching a creepy old plan,

To catch the heart of a young woman,

Who was clearly very stubborn.

He asked her if she wanted to dance,

She replied not a chance,

How about a drink he would insist,

Not even if he was last to exist.

His requests were very often,

But that didn't make her replies soften,

If fact they become very harsh,

But he really was a pain in the arse.

He told her it would be lots of fun,

But this only made her want to run,

He made her skin crawl,

As well as made her feel very small.

Telling she would never do better,

Which really upset her,

She was best to just settle,

His words stung like a nettle.

Her friends told her ignore,

That wrinkled old bore,

He was just some old creep,

That was full of cheek.

She started to get sick of his shit,

So she decided that was it,

She decided to get the police involved,

Which they quickly resolved.

By the end of the day,

He was driven far away,

Away from his home,

Where his ego was finally blown.

So the next she tells you to stop,

Do it before she gets a cop,

So don't be like the creepy old man,

You are worthless,

You are useless,

Your writing is shit,

You have no talent.

These thoughts run wild,

Corrupting my mind,

Making me feel blue,

Making me feel insecure.

Your an awful person,

Your too honest,

You talk too much,

You don't think before you speak.

I second guess everything,

Even when I am speaking my truth,

I fear that I may hurt someone,

Cause them to do something stupid.

Your jeans feel a bit tight today,

Your stomach looks a bit bigger,

Your body is an unusual sharp,

You look fat today.

These thoughts make me question,

My food intake for that day,

I start to calorie count,

Stop myself eating that day.

Why don't you have a career yet,

Why do you stay in your job,

A dead end job that you know,

You never want to move up in.

I question whether I am happy,

Happy in a job I have been doing,

For way too long,

Making me wonder if I need a change.

Why are you still single,

You need to find a man,

Before you grow old,

And become unappealing to others.

I ask myself if I really am behind,

If I'll ever find the one,

To spend the rest of my life with,

To find my other half, my soulmate.

Your never going to have kids,

Your not good enough to have kids,

If you did have kids,

They would be failures like you.

I question whether I'll have kids,

Whether kids are even on the table,

Whether I'll ever be able to afford one,

When I am able will I be too late.

In an ever changing world,

We are always questioning ourselves, Looking for other people approval,

Even people we have never met.

Why do we do this?,

Life is too short to worry,

Life is too short to second guess,

You shouldn't go outside after dark, sinde that is when it hunts. A beast so big, so terrifying, that just the sight of it can make grown men quiver. Anybody with any sense would never dare to go out at night. In fear that they would come face to face with this monster. All the pubs, clubs and shops closed as soon as the sky starts to turn red. Their workers running for the next bus home, as soon as they were able to. When the sky starts to turn orange, you will never be able to get a taxi home. Nobody in the right mind would be giving taxi rides home at that time of the night. If you find yourself in a situation, where you are in town as soon as the sky turns yellow. Take my advise and find shelter in the nearest building. Since you really don't want to come face to face with the Huntsman. They call it that, because that's what it does. It hunts man.

Nobody has ever really seen it. Those who have haven't lived to tell the tale. However, rumour has it that it is as tall as a skyscraper. It has razor sharp teeth and claws to cut through its victims flesh. Its orange eyes glow in the dark. It's thick black fur was a good way to blend into its surroundings. The only thing you can see is its eyes and teeth. But if you can see them. Well lets just say, it was too late for you. The reason why they came out at night was because well they were afraid of the sun. Just like vampires they burn in the sunlight. Going up in smoke, as soon as the sun rays touch its skin. Meaning through the day they find shelter in the forest or in a shaded area. You can hear the screams of the Huntsman's victims from miles away. Sometimes the sound will just randomly appear in the middle of the night, waking you up from a deep sleep. It sends an unpleasant quiver down your spine, knowing that they had claimed another victim. You should just hope that it isn't one of your family members. That it had claimed to be its next victim.

I will never forget the day I heard one of them attack my, now deceased, ex boyfriend. We had just broken up for the hundredth time that month. I had enough this time I was determined to not take him back. You see my ex wasn't exactly the most kindest of men. At times he could be a little aggressive. So, when he came banging on my door that evening, just before nightfall, I refused to let him in. I refused to let him back into my life. I still had some of the bruises he had decided to give me, from when he got drunk last time. Deciding to use me as a punching bag, just like he always did after he had had one too many. I could tell he had had a bit too much to drink as he was slurring his words and he looked like a mess. Sometime, I can still hear his pleads to let me in. Saying that he was sorry. Promising that he wouldn't lay another finger on me again. But I didn't believe him. He had made that promise so many time. Too many times before. Still he went back to hurting me. The longer he stayed there, the darker it got, making it harder for him to get home. Although, he seemed too out of it to care. That was until he heard the cackling of the Huntsman behind him. It seemed to sober him up a bit, as he screamed out for help. Begging for me to let him but it was too late. Even if I had wanted to help him there wasn't any time. He screamed out in pain as it ripped into his flesh. It ripped into his flesh with ease like somebody tearing up a piece of paper. I didn't dare look outside as my imagination was flashing images in my mind, on what was going on outside. Tears dripped down my face like rain drops on a window. I don't remember anything else from the night apart for falling asleep, slumped up in a ball at the bottom of my front door. Waking up the next morning to find nothing but a big puddle of blood outside of my door. The puddle of blood told me, that I hadn't dreamt what had happened. That my monster of an ex was really gone. I didn't know how to feel about it. All I knew is that I was safe from him now.

I knew this was it. The end of my world. End of an era. The end of everything I knew. The day my slate will be wiped clean, and I will start all over again from scratch. The best part about that is that I wouldn’t know a thing about it, as soon as I enter the next life, my mind will go blank and everything I have learnt in this life will be gone with a click of a finger. Well, that’s what I believe will happen. Nobody really knows what happens after life, all I know right now is that today is my last day on earth, and I am willing to welcome Death with open arms. I have made my peace with the thoughts of leaving this life so soon, all now I wanted was for it to come and get me. This was my last day on earth, my final crescendo before I descend into a world of darkness.

Laying in my bed, all I could think about was how brilliant my life had been. Memories played out in my mind, like a film keeping me amused in my final hours. How blessed was I to be able to do the things that I wanted to do before the end. Things that most normal, healthy people could only dream of doing. Things that no matter how hard they worked in life, they wouldn’t be able to do half of the things I have done, because they couldn’t afford it. No matter how much they wanted to or tried to, they would never be able to do it. This is why I hated people’s sympathy, how they believe that it was a shame that I would be departing from this earth so early. However, they didn’t realise that the past 14 years on this planet have been the most action packed, fun, exciting and fulfilling years. I have probably had the most fun in my short life, then what most people have in 80 years of living. Yes, I couldn’t do what most, healthy people could do like have a family, a career or build a life for myself. Although, I have never felt like I was missing out on much by not being able to do these things. I feel like I have lived a productive life, even though the past year and a half I have been bed bound. But this productive life would never have happened if it wasn’t for the Shining Star Foundation.

At the age of 5, I was placed under the charity Shining Star’s. Shining Star’s aim was to help terminally ill children, teenagers and young adults live their lives to the fullest. Whatever we wanted to do, the charity would fund raise to pay for it. They would also receive a lot of donations, which would pay for a lot of our trips too. From bake sales to car washes, car boot sales to bag packing, whatever other ways you could think of raising money for charity, we did it. With all that money we raised, we went all over the place, doing things that only other people could dream about doing. Disneyland Paris, Disneyworld Olando, watching live theatre in London, Alton Towers, shopping in New York and swimming with Dolphins, these were just some of the things I have managed to do in my lifetime. Every Christmas time we either visited Lapland or went to our local Santa’s grotto to visit the big fella himself. As you can see, my life was very eventful, everyday was a gift in my eyes, but I would be lying to you if I said I was happy all the time.

By the age of 15, I felt useless. I felt like I was just taking from the charity and not giving anything back. So, I decided to help, to give back to the charity that had helped me through my darkest days. I would help by reading to the younger children, lead on fund raising events, sometimes I would be a pair of ears for the younger children if they had any troubles or answering any questions they needed answering. From time to time I would put on art workshops so they could express their feelings through the artwork. I did this from the age of 15 till about a year and a half ago, after that my illness had sadly taken over, making me unable to do those things anymore.

Two years ago today, my mobility became really limited. Over the next 6 months, it rapidly decreased so much that I became bed bound. Just a week ago, I had been placed on end of life. If it wasn’t for this lousy machine on my right, keeping me alive, I would be dead by now.

Alive for what?

Is all I can think of as I lay here in my own waste, because I can’t get up to go to the toilet, just looking at the same four walls that I have been looking at for the past year and a half. To lay here in pain, unable to communicate it because of all the sores in my mouth, so I just suffer with it. To watch loved ones come and go, listening to them as they tell me stories of how their day had been, telling me all the exciting things that they had done that day, making me feel instantly jealous. Making me depressed as I would do anything to go back in time, to do whatever they had been doing that day. All I can feel is negative emotions, as I couldn’t think of a single reason why I should be alive right now. I have lived my life now and all I want to do now is to slip away in a peaceful slumber. I just wish that they would pull the plug on that machine and just let me go. They are just prolonging my suffering for no reason at all. We do not do this with dogs, so why do we feel the need to do it to our own kind. It’s just not fair. Just give me a lethal injection, to release me from the shackles of this life.

I was brought out of my deep and dark thoughts, by the change of atmosphere in the room. The room temperature went from average to ice cold. It was so cold I could see my breath. A dark, depressing presence appeared in my room. The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention, as they even seemed to have noticed the change of mood in the room. As if by magic the radio in my room started to play. The gentle strumming sound of an acoustic guitar fills the room, followed by the gentle tapping of the drum, just by hearing these sounds I knew what the song was. Just by its intro. This may seem strange, but this song has been my rock since I have become bed bound. The song was called ‘Looking back upon my life’ and it was by a practically unknown band called Burning Filth Addicts. They were a heavy metal band, but this song was one of their softer songs. One that I really resonated with since I have been bed bound.

‘Looking back at my life,

I realise I’ve been blessed,

Blessed with a family that loves me,

And one that I love back,

We have had our ups and downs,

But I’m so glad we have met,

They have stood by me throughout,

Through the thick and the thin.

But now I must go,

Jump up into the air,

Fly high in the sky,

I don’t know what is there,

All I know is my time is up.’

Since being bed bound, this song had become one of my favourites to listen to. It felt like the writer had specifically written this song for me. It was like the singer was singing the song to me, making me feel special. Making me feel wanted in this world, even though I am stuck in this room, with only the same four walls to look at. I knew this song really wasn’t wrote for me, since I wasn’t an old man, who has had his own family and lived his life to the fullest. No, I was a young, women in her twenties, dying from an illness I had had all her life. He had lived his life in a completely different way to the way I had. He has had to work hard, to be able to provide for his family, to be able to live in a certain way. To be able to live in comfort and not having to worry about money problems. Although, what really connected me to this song, was that he had an amazing family behind him. An amazing family that had stuck with him through thick and thin. I also had an amazing family, who had stuck with me, through the good times and the bad times. They had helped me as much as they possibly could. Put things in place, so that I could live independently as any other normally healthy person could. I was grateful for that. I knew that I was lucky with what I had been given, because I knew people that weren’t as lucky as me. To have a family as supportive and protective as mine. I knew this because I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Children who were controlled by their parents, so that it would make their parents lives easier. Children who had been given up on as soon as their parents found out that their child had a terminal illness. Children that didn’t have a family that could fight for them.

‘I lay here and weep,

In my final hours,

I knew this for sure,

As I could feel the disease,

Taking over my body,

Eating away at my flesh,

I know it was talking me high,

High up in the sky.

So now I really must go,

Jump up into the air,

Fly high up in the sky,

I don’t know what is there,

All I know is my time is up.’

At this moment in time, I feel especially connected to this song, as I know this was my final moments in life. I could feel Deaths bony fingertips, dancing along my naked flesh. But I was going to welcome him with open arms, especially now that I am bed bound. I will welcome him as if he was my key to unlock the door of this prison that life had locked me up in. The smooth, angelic vocals of the singer’s voice filled my room, sending me into a trance. A trance that nothing could get me out of. All my fears had disappeared as I laid here just listening to the soft, hypnotic music. I was just about to dose off, into the land of unlimited possibilities, when I felt a bony hand on my shoulder waking me up. Opening my eyes, I come face to face with the Grimm Reaper himself. He opens out his hand towards me as the song sang…

‘Baby take my hand,

Just this one last time,

Please don’t stutter,

Please don’t take your time,

Just hold my hand,

This one final time,

Let me feel your touch,

This one final time.

I feel heat rising on my face, as I place my hand in his. Ready to accept my fate.

‘So now I really must go,

Jump up into the air,

Fly high up in the sky,

I don’t know what is there,

All I know is my time is up.’

When the word ‘fly’ left the singers lips, as if by magic, I was lifted out of my bed and into the air. With one of his hands intertwined with mine, he placed his other hand on my waist while I placed my other hand on his shoulder. We waltzed around in the air, like we were in some kind of a screwed-up ballroom dream. It was strange how romantic these last moments of life had felt, even if it was just a hallucination. I couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy, which was odd assuming the circumstances of the situation that I had found myself in, as this was the last moments of my life. Being overwhelmed with these feelings, I hadn’t realised that this was the first time in months that I had been moving without feeling any pain. It was as if this supernatural being had taken all my pain away with just one touch. I didn’t feel poorly at all, in fact this was the first time I had ever felt this good in my short existence. Smiling to myself, I enjoyed my last moments on this planet. Thinking of how lucky I was to be dying in my own bed, in my own home. That my loved ones already knew that I was going to die young. That they had been preparing for this moment since the day I had been diagnosed. They were lucky, unlike those whose children that had just disappeared into thin air. The parents would put their children to sleep on that night, only to wake up the next morning to find that one of their children had gone missing. This had been going on for years, every now and then a child would randomly go missing. They called him the figure in the night. Those who had seen it and had been lucky enough to have been spared from its bony grasp, had described it as a floating black figure that came in through the window. However, only a handful of children had seen this creature, a boy named Jefferson whose sister had been taken by the creature after he had summoned it, had been the latest to report on its description. It is unclear, whether the missing children are still alive or where this thing has taken them. But after they are taken, they are never seen again. Even the best of the best detectives in the world, have travelled miles to help try solving this unsolvable case, but they always went home unable to have cracked it. Not one missing person has been found since the case had opened all those years ago. A small part of me believes that they will never be found again.

‘The wind grows faster,

As curtains danced in its blows,

Revealing the one that had come,

Come to take me away,

I grow colder,

As its body comes closer,

Fear consumes me,

As I wonder what happens next.’

I was ripped away from my train of thought, by the music dramatizing, as we waltzed faster around the imaginary ballroom dancefloor. He spins me around the room, just like the fairground ride the Waltzer’s does to its passengers, making me feel sick. Just when I had had about enough, the music suddenly starts to slow down, making us slow down too. He lowered us down, until my feet hovered above the bed. Taking my full body into his arms, he cradles me like a baby for a second, before gently placing me down on the bed. A smile is permanently placed on my face, as I can feel the darkness start to consume me. The last thing I hear as the world around me starts to go black is…

There it stood isolated and alone,

That random cabin in the woods,

It seemed so strange but there is was,

Just waiting for someone to come.

The wood is covered in mold,

The porch overpopulated by spiders,

Crawling up and down the wood,

Swinging from column to column.

It's windows are boarded up,

You couldn't have a look inside,

Making your imagination go wild,

Wondering what could be inside.

Could it be a serial killers hide out,

Or maybe a gangs drug den,

Is there a body or two in there,

Who know? You could never tell.

I wouldn't even want to know,

Even if you paid me a million,

I would never set foot in that house,

Only god knows what lays in there.

Another thing that was oh so strange,

Was that nobody was ever in there,

It was always so empty,

With not a peep of human life inside.

It really makes you wonder its history,

Did something happen inside it,

Which made no one want to live there,

Could it be haunted?

Maybe someone was murdered inside,

Stabbed violently by a burglar,

Or maybe it was by a family member,

A father killing his only son.

Whatever it is was it,

It left the cabin empty,

Perhaps for eternity,

Dancing with the devil in the pale moonlight, like Jack Nicholson's Joker would say. Was what I was doing the minute I stepped foot in this bar. That intoxicating smell hit my nose filling me full of memories, good and bad, of this place. It hadn't changed a bit since the last time I had stepped foot in this bar. 652 days to be exact. It still had the same smell, atmosphere and drunks that came in everyday to drowned their sorrows. 652 days since I had last gulped down my last taste of that golden heavenly liquid. A liquid that would transport me into another world with just a sip.

I have had some really good times in this pub. For one I met my wife here. Back then we were both young, free and wild. We spent most of our free time here. Getting drunk and putting in our last couple of quid from that month paycheck into the jukebox. We would dance until the sun came up. Back in those days I wouldn't need a drink to enjoy myself. Those were the days. Days that I look back on fondly. We got engaged here and had a great big party to celebrate. Everyone was happy with nothing to complain about. My children learnt to walk with one hand on that pool table, that was situated in the middle of the room, to keep them steady. They even had a couple of their birthday parties here too. They always decorated the room real nice just for us. I mean we were there best customers. My sons had their first legal pints with me here before each going out with their friends night clubbing. So many good memories. On the other hand there were some the bad ones too.

You see I'm not the most friendly drunk on the planet. Sometimes I can get a bit angry and that's when my fists start doing the talking. The amount of times I've started fights in this place, it must be over a hundred. I was always surprised when Alan (the owner) welcomed me back in with open arms with my favourite beer on the bar the next day. He knew exactly what time I would come in everyday. Was always there with a open ear listening to my problems sometimes he even came up with the solutions. He was a kind man. He was a calm man, who's voice would sooth me. Bringing me back down to earth, from the roughest of storms that I had brewed up in my mind. He was there for me, up until the man upstair came knocking and took him away from me. It's like they always say they best ones always leave early because God can't wait to have them up there with him. Without Alan in my life, things became tricky emotionally. Without anyone to talk to my head became full. Without anybody to half my problems with. I had to find something to deal with my demons. An outlet that would calm them down. So I drank everyday. It became routine, work, drink, stumble home and sleep. Even on my days off it was just sleep and drink. I know it sounds like a sad life but for me it became normal. It had a massive impact on my family especially my wife. It wasn't until she had a massive breakdown in front of me. Was when I realised how bad my addiction had gotten.

It was hard at first with lots of highs and lots of lows. It was lucky, as my family was there for me. Right by my side every step of the way. No matter how mad I got. How many tantrums I had. They were always there. Especially my wife. I wouldn't have known how I would have done it, without her help and guidance. She really was my rock. Soon enough I was on the road to recovery. I went to AA meetings, finding them quiet helpful. They gave me a new and fresh outlook on life, giving me the chance to open my mind to new, exciting things. But my favourite activity had to be the running. Being out in the fresh air cleared my head. The music blasting in my ears transported me into another world. By the end of it, yes I was knackered, but all my emotions had evaporate into the scenery around. I became a better father. With all the money I saved from not drinking, we spent on a holiday away to Florida. Life become so much better that was until I was hit by a brick wall. My wife became sick.

It was a year ago when I started to notice that she was becoming pale. At least 5 times a day she would be running to the bathroom and spilling up her guts. When I finally got her to go to the doctors, was whenwe found out that it was too late. That it was terminal stomach cancer. She refused treatment that would prolong her life as she didn't want to spend her last remaining days in and out of the hospital. She didn't want to feel drained and sick all the time. The doctor gave her a month to 6 weeks to live. So we spent every waking moment making memories. Doing whatever my wife wanted to do. Ticking off all of this things that she had on her bucket list. The days went by the more sick she become. The slower she walked, the paler she became and the more weight so lost. Until she became bed bound, which was where she spent the last week of her life. She died in my arms on her last night, with our 2 sons and their families around her. It was the way she wanted to go and we were all happy to be there.

A month had passed since she left us. It was the most agonising month of my life. I was so lonely, depressed and filled with grief. It became harder and harder to get out of bed. My sons tried everything to get me out but it was hopeless. The love of my life was gone, leaving me on this planet all alone. As the days went by the more alone I felt. Until one day I had a craving. A craving that I haven't had for 652 days. It was for a ice cold beer. I needed something it fill the grief that I was feeling. That was good old alcohol.

So here I was stood in my personal hell, deciding what to do. Break my 652 day streak or walking straight out of this place. Just as when I was about to step towards the bar to order a pint of grief. Was when I heard to sweet, melody of a voice, reached my ears, 'George, don't do it!'.

There she stood, in all her glory, my beautiful wife. Long blond hair, bright green eyes and a heavenly smile to match her beauty. She wore a long white gown with feathered wings, that spread out behind her. She looked so healthy and happy. She continued with, 'you can't do this to yourself honey. Not after we worked so hard to get you off that stuff. Remember you have so much more to live for. Two sons that love you very much with 5 grandchildren...'

With a frown I questioned, 'but we only have 4.' A kind smile and cheeky wink that she sent me. I clicked on 'oh, I guess you can see the future.'

Walking into the room,

The tired looking room,

There is an eerie silence,

That isn't usual there.

Normally it is filled with laughter,

Squeals of joys from every girl and boy,

As they chase each other around,

Around the bright and colourful room.

I guess the bright lights and colour,

Cover up what was really going on,

Behind the locked doors,

As soon as night falls.

The change in atmosphere,

As soon as the keys turns,

Turns to lock the door,

Making it so nobody can get in.

The only person that was around,

Was the poor unfortunate soul,

Who worked on the night shift,

To make sure the place was safe.

But they didn't count,

As they were above the age,

That they were fussed about,

They didn't show themselves to.

These people are too old to play,

To entertain what they want them for,

Too old to have a conversation with,

Full of laughs and childish fun.

Although that isn't completely true,

They may not have shown themselves,

But they showed signs that they were,

Signs that told us they were there.

These signs were only small,

But they surely made an impact,

It didn't just impact me,

But my colleagues as well.

The random movement of objects,

That nobody had been near,

Glassware random being pushed,

The crash sound causing me to jump.

Black figures could be caught,

Just out the corner of your eye,

A shiver down the spine,

Somebody walking over your grave.

By hearing some of these stories,

You see why we go through staff,

Why people don't want to stay,

In a place they feel unsafe in.

What can I say

Some people can't held,

A bit of paranormal activity,

They can't handle the uncertainty.

From time to time,

I can tell they are getting restless,

Bored of the same thing,

Day in day out.

This would sometimes lead,

To them leaving the premises,

Venturing out of the walls,

That were keeping them prisoned.

So when you enter this place,

Remember this isn't really a safe space,

Keep an eye on your children,

It had finally come around. The night every little girl had dreamt of. Since they sat in their rooms playing with their barbie dolls. Making them all glamed up and pretty to go to prom with their hunky, captain of the football team boyfriend. Fresh off the pitch. He would be celebrating the teams victory in the finals, that evening. Hoping and praying to god, that he had done enough for a scholarship to do football in college. How cliché right? The head cheerleader/ pretty girl and captain of the football team/ most popular guy in school being a couple. I mean it was alway meant to be. Well it was always meant to be in the story books. Even in classical horror films, you would find the cheerleader and the captain of the football team together. Although they always seemed to be the one who were murdered first.

But you see me and my boyfriend, Billy, were far for cliché. He was the school bad boy, the rebel. Meanwhile I was the nerd, the sweet little girl how did everything right. We were opposite's. Even in the way we looked. He was tall, short dark hair, blue eyes and wore black and white clothes. Where I was short, long blond hair, green eyes and I always wore bright colourful floral clothes. He spent his time outside of school, knocking about with his friends on the streets. Sometimes trying to get into clubs. If he wasn't doing that he was getting drunk or high. Meanwhile I would focus on my studies, because I cared about my grades. For fun I would have movie nights with my friends. I came from a loving close family whereas he came from a cold distant family. His family was rich while mine was barely getting by. Despite our differences we both loved each other very well. He was the love of my life.

So here I was, in my knee length, floral baby blue dress. Looking like I always do from day to day. My make-up looked natural. My nails were bare and short. On my feet were flat shoes.

You see unlike all them other girls in there, dancing around with prince charming, I never really dreamed about the prom. I dreamed about being a success. At the time, I wasn't sure what in but I just wanted a really good job, a nice family and a roof over my head. Unlike those girls, I didn't arrive with my date in an over the top car. Parading around like I was a actress at the Oscars stepping onto the red carpet. Hoping that all eyes were on me because I was popular and there was nothing else better to look at. No, I arrived on my own, in my dad's beat up Ford Fiesta. I mean Billy was my date but we decided to meet up there. Since we didn't like attention and we were both happy with this. We had also decided to just dress up like we normally did because we couldn't care less about what we looked like, we just wanted to focus on having a good night.

Stepping into the room, it was decorated like a cliché prom night. Balloons and sparkly banners everywhere with lights dancing around the room, randomly catching people's eyes. Around the edge of the hall there were tables covered with silver and gold tablecloths. Silver/ gold fake flowers placed exactly in the middle of the tables. There was a dancefloor in the middle of the room which was filled with horny teenagers bumping and grinding against each other. Groups of friends danced in small circles. There were a few random couples romantically waltzing around the floor.

Rolling my eyes are the typical prom scene in front of me. I scanned the room looking for Billy. I didn't have to look for long, as he court my eye straight away. He stuck out like a sore thumb, as he was the only guy in the room that was not wearing a suit. Just like me, he was wearing his normal, plain white t-shirt, denim jeans and his brand new black leather jacket. He was standing by the bar with two glasses of punch, waiting for me to arrive. It was like he could sense me looking at him. Since he turned my way locking eyes with me. With a smile and a wave, highlighting he was there. After fighting my way though the maze of horny teenagers, I finally made it too Billy. Greeting me with a side hug and a kiss, before handing me over the glass of punch he had gotten me.

It was just after a gulp of my drink, I started to feel like the world was spinning. Like I had been pushed into a portal and it had sent me into another time because suddenly I was stood in a big royal ballroom. Everyone that was around us, just disappeared. Leaving just me and Billy in the room. To my surprise my dress had also changed. Instead of my short, blue floral dress, I was wearing a long plain blood red gown. Billy was in a black and white suit with a red tie matching my dress. As if by magic piano music started to fill the room. Billy took my hand leading me onto the dancefloor. With one of our hands intertwined, his hand was on my waist and mine was placed on his shoulder. We waltzed around the room. Staring into each others eyes. I was so entranced in looking into his eyes, I didn't bother looking to see where we were. All I knew that I was safe in his arms. That I never wanted to wake up from this dream. I was too comfortable in this daydream. Every now and then Billy would spin me around making my dress fly all over the place. But all good things have to come to a end, we all have to wake up at sometime.

This time, I was pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of screaming. I could feel Billy's warm and inviting touch disappear. Looking around I noticed that I was all alone. The screaming continued getting louder and louder. Shielding my ears from the noise. I curled up into a ball. Tucking my knee right up to my chin. I buried my face into my thighs. My world started to spin. I decided to look up at the world around me for a split second. Letting my legs fall flat. The walls around me started to bleed, staining the once white walls red. My once dream had turned into a nightmare. I screamed out into the air, in pain as I couldn't take anymore. Soon enough the screaming was replaced with police sirens. The blood on the walls disappeared and in its place was a even more horrific scene. All around me were the dead bodies of my classmates. Sidney, Randy, Tatum and the rest of my school year once alive and my friends were now laying dead in front of me. The only bodies I didn't see were Billy's and Stu's.

Before I knew it the police busted into the room and I was sat outside being questioned. Apparently while I was out of it. Somebody decided to open fire on our high school prom, killing everyone inside except me. I guess I got out lucky or was I? We were half way through the questioning when I heard my name being called by a familiar panicked voice. Turning I saw Billy, blood caked his body from head to toe. Pulling me into a hug, he whispered sweet words into my ear and thanked the lord that I was still alive. But when I asked where he was when all the commotion was going on. He just muttered something not looking me in the eye, making me feel suspicious.

The next coming weeks were torture for the town of woodbro. It seemed like for weeks everyday I was getting up, changing into something black and attending someones funeral. Paying my respects to the class mates that had died in that horrific attack. However graduation was the worst than any of the funerals. It was probably the shortest ceremony in history. Since it was only me, Billy and Stu that were graduating that year. As the other 97% of the population of our year had been slaughtered.

She sighed to herself as once again she was walking through the doors of her bosses castle. Once again she had been called in the middle of the night to clean up, one of his messes. All because he couldn't handle his temper. Someone had decided to piss him off and he had to do what he had to do to. Just so he kept the respect of his people. People say to her 'it must be a fun and easy job being a cleaner. Especially when your boss is a hot, rich guy.' She would just chuckle in reply. They had no idea what it is like to clean for a billionaire's son. That was also a leader of a gang, that literally got away with murder. They never would know because she was swore to secretary. Whatever goes on in this house stays in this house. Since, she valued her life. If she spoke a word of what went on in that house. Then she would have been in big trouble. Perhaps she wouldn't have seen the next light of day. Yes, he has that much power. The boy did whatever he pleased and he never suffered any consequences. He just had to throw money at the police to make them turn a blind eye from it. As well as having money he had the fear of the people. Not just in town but in the whole state of Pennsylvania people feared him. He was well known across the whole of America but most people thought he was just a myth. That someone so evil and cruel couldn't exist in this world. But he did and poor Sarah worked for him.

Sarah's family had worked as the Maroni families cleaners for decades now. The Maroni's had alway's trusted Sarah's family to keep their mouths shut and not tell anyone anything that went on in their properties that they owned. They had seen many things but never went to the police about them. In return for their silence, the Maroni's treat them very well. Holidays all around the world, nice food, fancy living and a good pay check at the end of the month. Double time whenever they were called out for special occasions such a tonight. Sarah guessed that the sleep deprivation was worth the double pay.

Stepping into the room he had told her to go clean. She took a deep breath, the scent of rotten flesh hit her nose like a tone of bricks. Blood painted the walls as the victim looked like he had been attacked by a wild animal instead of a human. Some people would question if he was really human at all. She would just say that was the way he had been brought up. He had been brought up to show very little emotion. His family seen emotion as a weakness. Their enemies saw emotion as a weakness. So they slapped it out of him at a young age, before it was too late to do. That's why he acted the way he did. Bruising covered the whole body and disfigurement made the body unidentifiable. Fingers and toes were littered on the floor. Sarah could have sworn she could still hear the victims crying out of help. Mouths hung open showing gums and cracked teeth. Blood trickled from their nose and mouth, dripping onto the floor.

Sarah thought, 'Great! That's going to be fun getting the blood out of the carpet'. Rolling her eyes as she got to work, cleaning it as fast as she could.

She could tell that this person was from the biker group Bald Eagers that was a local gang. She knew by his signature leather jacket, tattoos and bald head. They had been causing a lot of trouble for the Maroni's for a while now, threatening to shut down their little illegal businesses. She had guessed that this one had pushed her bosses button too far. Ending up dead. Although it didn't take much doing to push him too far.

Normally Sarah wouldn't see all this because Steve and his crew had got rid of the bodies. All she would have to do was clean up the blood that had been left behind. But she guess they were running late tonight.

Speaking of the devil, just as she started to clean up around the bodies. Steve and his gang came bursting in. Full of apologies as they seen Sarah. They would always say that a lady should never do or see this kind of violence. It was a man's duty.

Sarah replied with the same reply, 'I know I know. It's fine and it can't be helped sometimes. I knew what I signed up for when I started to work for the Maroni's. So this stuff doesn't bother me in the slightest.'

Everytime she said it, she could see the worry in their eyes, as if it wasn't normal for a women such as herself to think of this as normal. But they carried on with their side of the bargain and left in a hurry to dispose of the bodies before the sun came up.

After a couple of hours, Sarah was done cleaning the room. From top to bottom. It didn't look like just a few hours ago there had been a dead body in their. Right on cue her boss, Romeo, waltzed in the room, looking around like nothing had ever happened in this room. Complimenting her on what a good job she had done and that she looked great.

Romeo was a very complicated person. You could never really understand what he was feeling as his face was always in neutral. Even when he was angry, his face was always in neutral. He was a very handsome man who was always dressed in smart, black suits. He liked to keep fit so he had a very muscular physique. Also he was the reason why Sarah's love life has gone down the drain. Sarah was 30 years old, owning her own home and car. You would have thought she was a catch.

But no.

You see round town she was known as Romeo's girl. When you are branded a Maroni's girl, no guy would go near you, let alone date you. Romeo had made it clear that she was his and no one was to touch her. If so they should suffer the consequences. For the longest time now Romeo had been love in Sarah. Showering her with gifts but she never returned the feelings. You see how could such a pure hearted women such as Sarah love a monster like Romeo. Yes, he was handsome, rich and could keep her safe but he wasn't nice. He wasn't affectionate. He didn't show his feelings. Which is something Sarah had longed for. So just like last time, she said her goodbyes to Romeo, collected her check and she was on her way.

There you were, just like I had predicted, just like you always were. 6 o'clock on the dot everyday you step out of the flower shop you owned to lock up and start your short journey down the road to home. You were just as beautiful as the last time I saw you, yesterday, you simply took my breath away. Your concave bobbed hair always looked salon perfect and had been coloured a different colour. Something that you did at least once a month. I'm sure that I had seen it be every colour of the rainbow by now. Your bright blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight. Even on a cold, dreary winters day they always seemed to sparkle, brightening up anyone's day. My heart would always skip a beat every time they made contact with mine. A smile was permanently painted on your face. Even if it was fake sometimes. With long flowing floral dresses in the summer. Jumper and jeans in the winter. You always looked flawless. Woolly hats in the autumn. Flower crowns in the spring. You really knew how to make a fashion statement in every season, on every year. Never going a day without looking like a model, that had stepped straight off the catwalk.

No wonder your abusive ex still stalks you. Sticking around like a bad smell. Just on time here he comes, the jobless low life who thinks its acceptable to go around hitting women, when he's taken by a beautiful creature such as yourself. Who thinks it's acceptable to keep you locked up inside away, from all of your friends and family. Meanwhile he goes out spending your hard earned money on booze, drugs and prostitutes. The sight of this guy just made me want to hurl a glass bottle at his head. Then, pick up the half broken if the bottle off of the floor and jam it into his eye. Oh! His screams would be like a sweet melody to my ears. His blood splattering all over the place as I would push the bottle deeper into his skull. The cracking sound of his skull breaking into pieces, from the impact of the bottle against it, would be so satisfying. I just couldn't help but fantasize about watching the life draining out of his eyes. Him being out of our lives, would have been just be a dream come true for me.

You never noticed me but we have been next door neighbours for the pasted 5 years now. Yes, we would say the usual 'Hello' and 'How are you today?' you know the usual small talk. But I knew from the moment I clapped eyes on you, on that day 5 years ago, I knew you were the one for me. I just couldn't get you out of my head. The tingling that I felt whenever you were around me, it just couldn't be just a coincidence. The thunder bolt to the heart, I felt whenever I seen you around another guy, I can't have just been a coincidence. The rage I felt everytime somebody flirted with you. I just get jealous. But who can blame them for trying to date you. You are absolutely gorgeous and you had the most beautiful soul to match it. I just wish I could ask you out on a date or at least pluck up the courage to speak to you more.

I was snapped out of my daydream by your terrified scream. Followed by his all to familiar shouts coming from a near by ally. I had been that deeply entranced by my daydream, I hadn't noticed the two of you had walking away. Like a bloodhound on a hunt, I sprinted towards the shouts using my ears as my guide. Her screams tormented my ear as I wondered why the hell no was also running to her safety. Just like I was. It was as if I had been the only that I could hear her pleads for help. I turned the corner into the entrance of the ally and there I saw them. He had his hands on either side of her head entrapping her between himself and the wall.

I don't know what happened in the next minute or two, as one minute I was stood in the mouth of the ally. The next I was stood over your ex's body that was bleeding out on the floor. I must have seen red and blank out for a minute or two. When I seen that he was forcing himself on you. You stood there startled and terrified like a rabbit in car headlights. Trying to cover you half naked body with the tore up dress. You looked at me as if I was the monster. Like I hadn't just saved you from your abusive ex. Like I was the one, who had tore your dress and tried to have my way with you. That's when I realized the half broken bottle gripped in my hand. I could hear the faint splattering of the blood, that caked the glass, hitting the floor. I couldn't believe that my earlier fantasy had come to life. There was a ring around his left eye where I had forced the glass into his eye. Shards of glass poked out of his wound as the blood ran down his face. His skull had definitely been crushed under the force I used to push the bottle in. His stomach no long rose up and down, like it should have been doing. Telling me that he was dead. I couldn't believe it, I had actually killed someone.

I knew at that moment that, this was going to be the last time that I would ever see you. I knew at that moment that I had to get out of town. If I didn't, I knew I was going get locked up or at least arrested. I gave you one last glance to soak in your beauty and without a word said between us I left your life forever. Slipping out of the alley and stepped into the next chapter of my life. Your screams for help really wounded me as I wished we didn't have to part like this. But I guess fate had something else planned out for us.

Me and my friends have always been intrigued by the house at the end of our street but a bit creeped out at the same time. It was a creepy old victorian building, that had certainly aged quite a bit and badly, sat there at the end of our street. Looking like it needed a lot of work doing to it to make it liveable again. The guttering was basically hanging off its brackets so god knows what the plumbing was like inside. It really needed a good lick of paint as, most of the original colour had faded away with the sun shining on it. Due to all the horrendous weather we have had over the years, it has chipped away most of the paint leaving white in its place. It desperately needed a new roof, if someone was going to live there, as there were gaps where missing tiles should have been. Plus whenever it rained you could see the water sinking into the house, instead of rolling down into the gutter like it was supposed to do. With water seeping in through the roof, it caused mold to covered the whole of the walls, creating patterns on the wall. It was that moldy, that you could see the wall behind the paper. You could see from the outside that the place was empty inside as there was no furniture in there. So, you could see right through the property without any obstruction. We knew nothing about the place or what could have happened in there to make it some empty. All we knew, for as long as we had been living on this street, no one had lived there. Nobody ever come in and out of that place.

Well that wasn't exactly the truth. As the same time every week, a Sunday morning, when it was quiet on the street a car would roll up to the house. It was a posh black car with blacked out windows. Looking like the type of car a very rich person would own. That the person who was inside of that car was very important like a celebrity or something. Everytime a suspicious looking women would get out the car wearing extra large glasses that covered the whole of her face; a long black trench coat with matching scarf and a oversized sun hat shading her face so no one could see who she was. She would go into her car boot and drag out a long object wrapped in black stuff. It looked heavy because she always looked like she was struggling to move it. She would take the thing inside, spending about an hour or two in the house then she would walk out and drive off until the next Sunday when she would do the exact same thing. This would always happen whenever the adults where asleep. So whenever we said something about the women and what had happened, they would just put it down to our imagination. That we were that tired, due to lack of sleep, that we were seeing things. On the other hand there was always a glimpse of fear in their eyes as if there was something they weren't telling us. This made us wonder if it had something to do with the people that go missing every week. We never understood why the police never didn't do anything about it. That was until Stanley went missing we started to understood why.

Stanley was your typical nerd. He had short curly ginger hair, thick black glasses, freckled face and was always dressed smart. He wasn't exactly the most popular guy in school. But this was his own doing, since he was always telling teachers what other students were up to. He was basically the school spy. You knew whatever you said in front of the guy, that it would go back to teachers. Stanley lived on our street. He live right next door, on the left, of the house at the end of the street. Apparently his bedroom window looked straight onto the house. On every Sunday afternoon, he would come running terrified to us, telling us about the women and what he had seen her do. How she would always turn to look into his window. How she would stare at him. Right in the eye. He told us how her stared sent shivers down his spine. That he could sense that she was dangerous. On one particular Sunday, the Sunday that turned out to be his last, he told us that he sensed that he was in trouble. Later that morning found a peacock feather on his bed with a note saying 'see you on Saturday'. The last time we saw Stanley was on Friday walking into his house. By Sunday morning there were posters going up to see if anyone knew where Stanley had gone. They covered up the kid that had gone missing the week before as if he was old news. But the same happened to his posters, as they were covered up by Mrs Dodds face. This went on and on and on. It seems as though nothing is going to stop it. So from that day on me and my friends didn't dare look out the window on a Sunday morning. In fear, that if she caught us staring, that we would be next to disappear. We knew exactly where we would be going if she caught us.