"Mom?"
"It's going to be alright, dear. J-j-just stay close to me."
It was ten years ago. The moment still haunts me every night, like an endless cycle of dreams turning nightmares.
"M-mom..."
"Just stay close to me, sweetheart, everything's going to be just--"
I can still hear my screams. I can still remember how my mom looked. She looked so calm, but I know, deep inside her — she's terrified.
"Hide in the closet, honey."
If only I was strong enough.
"Mommy!"
If only I held on to her more.
"Please, sweety, while I can still hold this door. Hide in the closet."
And her tears. That was the first time I saw her cry. She smiled at me for the last time, and I quickly hid behind our closet. She kept on holding the door, preventing someone, or something, to get in.
"No matter what you do, keep quiet."
I can still remember those words.
"Momm--"
"Quickly now, ugh! Hide!"
I remember hiding in the closet, filled with fear, as I watched her forcefully held that door.
I remember myself crying, but keeping my mouth shut as well. I remember holding on to my teddy bear my father gave to me. I wished he was with us when that happened.
I remember my mom grew tired of holding the door and fell down on the floor. She was panting nervously. I was, too.
I remember seeing the door slowly opening.
I remember my mom being attacked, blood splattered on our bed. I remember her screaming, crying. I remember it all.
And when it was done, there was silence. I kept myself to be silent as possible as well, for I knew that the slightest noise would make it look for me.
And I hid inside the closet until morning, I stopped my every cries, but I couldn't control the tears that flowed down my very cheeks.
It was a nightmare in reality.
Ten years ago, it all happened. And it was all my fault.
If I hadn't been so alone, I hadn't made "it" at all.
And now that I am alone, all I have now are the memories of my parents.
All I have for a family now is the one that killed my family — my imaginary friend.
Written by: David Rowell Potter