My Mom is trying to kill me

My Mom lives in a quaint old town in the SE of Texas, densely populated and rundown, everybody seems to know each other and stores are family run. She has lived here all her life, I however grew up with my Dad around sixty miles away in very busy city that could not be more different. My Mom was rarely brought up for discussion between me and my Dad and when she was, it was met with indifference. As I understand it, my Mom abruptly deteriorated mentally and became uninterested with us both when I was only four years old and complained of multiple voices in her head. I'm twenty-four next month, and in recent years involved myself in her life as much possible, understanding she was not stable enough to be a fit mother of no fault to her own. My Dad didn't like that I visited her as much as I did, but I knew she needed the help. She's fifty-five but frail and crippled, mind and body.

Two days ago I visited her and something seemed off. I had a key so I knocked, unlocked the door and called her as usual. I heard her TV as I opened the door which was expected as she hates despises silence. The mail was untouched in the doorway and I could smell mould before taking more than two steps in the house. My blood ran cold. I hastily rounded the corner to the living room immediately to the left and saw her. She sat in her everyday spot on the sofa staring dead eyed into the TV. The house seemed like it was in a state of decay, her food was growing with mould and her sinks were bone dry.

"Hi Mom are you doing ok?"

I didn't get so much as an expression.

"What's happened to your food you must be starving, when's the last time you had something to eat?"

Still not even a turn of head, or any sign of acknowledgement. As I got in closer I noticed she had been urinating where she had been sitting and must have sat in it for hours at least. It wasn't uncommon for her to be unresponsive, but I would at least get a mumble and glance. I knew I couldn't leave her in this condition so I needed to get help, and decided I would stay with her for the next couple days until I came up with a plan for her. I fed her and cleaned her and held her hand up the stairs before tucking her into bed as it began to get dark around 7:30pm with her radio on her bedside table. Around an hour later after reading a couple chapters of my book I began rearranging the spare bedroom ready for me to sleep in, directly next door to my Mom's bedroom. That's when I heard the stomping of feet lasting around three seconds, it sounded as if somebody were speedwalking before a deafening silence, Mom's radio was no longer on. Completely shaken, I pinned myself to the bed. The heavy stomps came from the next room but I didn't believe that to be possible as my Mom struggles and takes her time walking gently, she simply was not capable of stomping with that much strength.

After five minutes of convincing myself that what I swear I just heard was my own mind playing tricks on me, I build up the courage to enter the hallway after switching on a light to go check on my Mom. As I slowly open the door to avoid the piercing creek of the old heavy wooden door, I squint to find my mom in the thick darkness. The light from the hallway creeps into the room as I widen the gap of the open door and it settles on my Mom's face, about a foot away from the door. I jump back and scream out of reflex.

"F**K! Mom! What's going on?!"

Her eyes are wild, stretched open, her lips curled back behind her snarling teeth. She's breathing heavily enough to bring her shoulders up with each breath, almost as if filled with adrenaline and at a loss of breath.

"Mom! Are you ok?! What's happening to you?"

Her breath slows and she closes her mouth, but her eyes and the adrenaline in her breath remain. I eventually manage to calm her down and lie her back in bed, and it's not long before I'm lying awake in the bed next door. I sent my Dad a quick text about what happened and turn to my book, after recent events I can't bring myself to a calm enough state to fall asleep, however I finally manage to drift off after a while of reading with the light on at my bedside.

I woke up to a loud smash, followed by more silence again, my Mom's radio stopped playing once again. I dig myself deeper into the blanket and listen, admittedly shaking with fear. About fifteen minutes go by without any further sound, before the thundering speedwalk footsteps begin again, followed by my Mom's bedroom door swinging open with a bank, hard enough to disturb the air and loosen the dust on my ceiling. I can hear her breathing from the same position I found her in earlier just inside her bedroom door. Her breath has now grown coarse and hollow, I could hear the anger in it. I grab my phone under the cover of my blanket and see multiple texts and calls from my Dad.

"YOU NEED TO LEAVE THE HOUSE NOW"

"Are you still in the house with her? You don't understand you need to leave!"

"ANSWER YOUR PHONE AND LEAVE! NOW!!"

I was paralysed with fear at this point, not knowing what to do and what is going on. I could still hear her from the hall. She stood there for what felt like an eternity, without a change of pace or volume in her breathing. Until finally the familiar loud, solid steps continue going away from my room towards the top of the stairs. From my room I can see the banisters to the top of the stairs with my bedside light, and I saw her crazed eyes fixated on me as she darts down the stairs. I hear the metallic slide of a knife from the kitchen, as it dawns on me that my own Mom is trying to kill me. She's mumbling at a louder volume the closer she gets, I can't bring myself to move a muscle while I can hear her walking back up the stairs with haste.

Author's Note

This is part 1 of a short story series I'm writing as a hobby, obviously very new to it.

Reviews

[Caitlynn]

There's a few, very minor errors, nothing extreme, since you said you're new to this it's pretty good, and to be honest I see real potential in your writing, it can flow a little easier, it's a little rough around the edges. I like the concept of this short story, very interesting.

[Mr Hale]

Thank you! The last time I wrote a story was for an English assignment back in High school, so I'll take any advice I can get. Do you have any tips on how/where I can learn to improve?