Twisted life of Horrors

Yikes

Mum is standing at the kitchen counter. She's singing to herself an old Pirate Song that I downloaded off the Internet illegally. She quite likes it.

"Argh me Hearties, slit their throats

Slay them say they're nought but goats

They lived a short and dull old life

Better kill before they strike"

I never liked it, even when I downloaded it. Now, sitting at the table watching her sing and prepare dinner, I feel that old medieval chill run its finger up my spine. I shiver and stare at the hot potato resting in mum's gloved hand, trying to shake off the feeling.

"Honey," Mum says suddenly, "Have you ever thought of murdering someone?"

The chill snakes up my neck and penetrates my brain, making it freeze in utter terror.

Mum can't feel what I can. She goes on nonchalantly. 

"I have, and do you know who I thought of killing?"

I felt my breathe seize as she points the knife she was using at my heart.

"You."

Screams burst forth from my mouth and my legs suddenly stand and run. I run with my legs, sprinting as fast as I can, running from the potential murderer... my own mother.

Tears spurt down my face as I am gripped by an impossibly large fear. My heart feels like it's being ripped out in the terrifying pain of my running. I'm so, so, so scared.

Then, a jangling thought pops into my head.

"She's got a car!" I gasp, and dive headlong into a bush. Flicking leaves from my vision, I peek through a gap in the bush and watch, heart thudding, breath catching in my throat.

Then, I hear the familiar rumble of a car, and then the large bulky body of our Jeep comes rolling past, my mother in the driver's seat. I duck from the vision of her and wait for several minutes before I look again.

Nothing. Good.

I sit there for eternity, waiting, waiting.

I can't remember when exhaustion made me sleep...

*   *   *

"Hana?"

It's Mum's voice... her sweet, musical voice, so calm and beautiful, promising to never hurt me...

I sit up suddenly, wrenching my eyes open. Mum doesn't look deranged and ready to kill... she looks worried and scared that I might lash out again.

"What happened?" I ask in a croaky voice.

"They found you unconscious  in the bush after two days, honey. You were almost gone... you have a severe Mental Disorder. We don't know what it is yet, but the Doctor's say your running away may have been associated with my... my father's history of hallucinations. They say a hallucination may have made you run."

I feel like crying with guilt and relief.

"Love you, Mum."

"Love you, sweetie."

Reviews

[Livana Lowell]

Ha ha, don't know if I buy the mom's little story. I love stories that urk me and send shiver-thrills (one word for me) down my spine.

However, I think this sentence should be revised: "My heart feels like it's being ripped out in the terrifying pain of my running." It's kind of awkward, though I get what you're trying to say.

This word is unnecesary, "illegally". If you were to delete it, it wouldn't mess up the story any kind of way.

I loved this comparison: "The chill snakes up my neck and penetrates my brain, making it freeze in utter terror." It was quite unique.

Is "spurt" the right word to describe the tears running down your cheeks.

Other than that, I really like it. It made was entertaining and I absolutely adored it.

[Kevin Chelsea]

This is the kind of story I find creepy as hell. My mind putting a demon smile on the mother's face when she says "you".
Zoiks! Run, damn it!

Thank goodness I'm not crazy. I think.