GENRE: Adult Paranormal
In the cold silence of my room, I count the faded scars on the inside of my forearm – one for every lie I was told. Like when my father promised me that the faces in the shadows didn’t exist – that I was just crazy like my mother.
A few inches under my wrist is the last.
I rest my head against the wooden, cherry polished headboard. It has to be nearly four o’clock in the morning. Two more hours until sunrise. Five more hours until my second to last session with the hypnotherapist.
My eyes, the dark aqua made black by the lack of light, focus on the shadows in the corners of the room. Eight years ago today is when it happened.
All I see is their blood when I close my eyes – all over my hands and the oversized shirt I slept in.
Staining the carpet. Painted across the broken coffee table.
So. Much. Blood. Why was there so much? It didn’t make any sense.
She can’t make me remember.
The old row house groans around me.
Two more hours until sunrise. Twenty-six hours until I can sleep at night again.
I wrap my arms around my knees and squint at the empty space under my closet door. The overstuffed tabby at the foot of my bed opens one eye and stretches across the purple floral quilt. She slow blinks at me and curls back into a ball.