I stood outside the door. My breathing unsteady and wavering. I knew they hadn’t even changed the decor inside. The thought of the same blood splattered walls made my stomach flip. The door stood bold and great in front of me. So familiar yet when I looked upon it, terror rippled through my every muscle making me tremble. My knees buckled. I couldn’t hold it anymore. My courage wasn’t this strong. It was too much. But all that work. All the effort I had put into trying to get over it. All the money my mum had put up for all my counselling, all the physiatrists. I put on a brave face for my mum. Everything I have done, I have done for my mum. For her benefit. Throughout those long three months I have learnt to hide my fear and sadness - put on a brave face, show my mum I am pulling through. The truth though; I am no better than I was on the first session. I still have the nightmares. Those dreaded nightmares haunt me every single night. Luke’s body lying dead, unmoving on the floor. Blood dripping from his mouth, his side ripped open, revealing his intestines - both small and large - spread around him like draping ribbon. I pushed the image out of my head, willing it to leave my memory permanently - of course it was done in vain, that image is embedded in my brain forever.

Deep breathes, constant deep breathes. That is what they had told me. Deep breathes, concentrate, good place, happy memories. I smiled to myself. Beneath my eyelids I saw Luke’s face. Smiling, laughing, pure happiness spread across his face. His grin was so big it looked surreal. His ocean green eyes big and welcoming. They where glazed with tears. Tears of laughter. They trickled down his face as he had another outburst. I could hear his laughter. It rung in my ears. Hysterical, crazy, genuine laughter. To most people his laugh annoyed them; it was irritating sometimes. Only sometimes though. Most of the time it warmed my whole body. From my head to my ankles, with every chuckle it grew stronger. It sounds stupid now, but when I heard it, no matter the mood it lifted me. I could be grey with grief and just one chuckle used to lift me to the high heavens. Now as I stood trembling outside the door where he died, his joy filled me up. Giving me strength and courage, I could hear him willing me in. Telling me to be strong. It’s OK, you can do it. His low voice whispering in my head. It brought tears to my eyes, to hear his voice. Those tears of grief and remembrance. No, it’s wrong to cry. I had cried enough to fill an ocean. Not now. No I wouldn’t cry. I had to face them. I had to show them I was holding it together, prove to them I am not crazy.

As strange as it seems, I had missed them. The judging eyes of Luke’s family. They may not really like me - they had never approved of Luke being friends with me - but they had never shut me out or turned their backs. All of his family where true and honest. Brutally honest to the bone. Not at all like Luke. No, Luke was truthful but never hurtful or mean. He would tell you the truth but never tell you something that would hurt you. He would look at you with those loving eyes and ….. NO STOP! I MUSNT THINK ABOUT HIM NOW! I must me strong, for his sake. I will show them that I was a loyal friend (even if they didn’t think so). I must be, to put up with their criticism. I remember when his mum told me I was too ugly to be Luke’s friend, I wasn’t good enough. At the time I was unbelievably hurt, but now I just laugh. What a thing to say. No matter how hard they tried they couldn’t drive me away from him. No, no one had the power or even the determination, the cheek to even try and separate us. Only his family was even stupid enough to try. Well look where that got them. A dead son and his distraught best friend looking to them for comfort. How wrong they had been; I would never leave him, never forget him. Even if I wanted to - the impact he had on my life was too big to even try and contain.

In my unconscious mind I could hear the low voices and soft music coming from inside the house. When I finally looked up though, it seemed silent. Deadly silent. The saying, “you could hear a pin drop” popped into my head. I think you literally could. Very faintly coming from the house I heard a draw open. Metal clanging together because of the force of the pull. I could have sworn the air chilled to below 0°C at that exact moment. Goosebumps rose on my arm like little seeds trapped under my skin. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Something in the pit of my stomach was throwing warning alarms at me. There was something wrong - definitely. I gulped down my fear and my hand hovered over the door handle. I had a burst of courage that flowed through my veins. My hand dropped onto the handle, pushing it down, opening the door. The smell of damp, cold and empty rushed into my face. Making my eyes slam shut. The door was only opened a crack but I knew something wasn’t right. I could not see a single flicker of light in the room. No sound of music, not one beat. Not even the breathing of a living soul. That courage that had run through my veins only a matter of seconds ago had completely gone. Not an ounce of bravery was left in me now. It was like I suddenly knew I shouldn’t be there. Not only did I feel like I was in danger, I felt unwelcome.

A gasp. A short scared gasp. I heard it come from inside the house. It sounded like Luke’s mum. I had to go in now. I had to. I pushed the door fully open. My heart in my throat. I could swear that you could actually hear it slamming against my ribs. I edged in; sliding against the inside wall. I slipped down the wall. I placed my hand on the wall to try and get up again. Slime. Slime covered the walls. I pulled my hand away and I could feel the gunk stuck to it. It smelled strange. Irony, sweet. Strange. The smell sent my head spinning. I had smelled it before. It was a smell that I wanted to forget. I knew it. It clicked suddenly. Blood.
My heart started racing. Images flying into my head. Luke. This house. This dreaded house. I couldn’t do anything I was stuck on the spot. I had to look. I had to face it. I willed myself to stand and my legs finally responded. I could feel sick rising up in my throat. I couldn’t bare it. I eventually reached the place where I knew the switch was. I lifted my hand up, trying to prepare myself. I was trying to be strong to face it all again but I couldn’t. NOT AGAIN! NOT AGAIN! DON’T LOOK! That was all that kept running through my head. Popping up before my eyes. Actually blocking my sight. It was pitch black. I touched where I thought the wall was and searched for the switch. What I found was much worse than what I could have imagined. I felt a finger. Not a normal finger. Not even one of an animal. It was hard like stone and rough like sand paper. The nail on the end was sharp and long. It came to a point. At my touch it grew colder. As if it wanted to be still. It moved. It flicked downward. Letting loose a pool of bright, painfully bright light I tried to scream but nothing would come. I didn’t have any spare air to give. My eyes adjusted and I saw all the bodies. About five of them. Looking just like Luke did. Dead, open and inside out. For about 10 seconds I forgot about the finger I had felt. When I remembered I spun round. Fear now roared out of my mouth. The face made me tremble with terror. It stood 7 foot. Towering over me. It was like nothing I had ever seen. Its eyes weren’t eyes but bottomless pits. Blood actually oozing out. It was mossy coloured. Its skin was dull and rough. Although it was green it looked red. Blood covered every inch of its arm. Dripping from the wrists. Oddly enough its hands where spotless. Well, as spotless as it could be. Its chest lay open. Just grainy and revolting. The pure repulsiveness was unreal. All this though was not the worst thing. Across its face there was a huge grin. A vile, hideous, monstrous smile. Revealing yellow gunk oozing from its throat. I stood stupefied. I couldn’t move. Fear glued me to the spot. Its eyes stared straight at me, merciless. Pitiless.
Then it gurgled words that would haunt me forever, visit my dreams. Swim in my thoughts...
“I’ve been waiting for you! You will be begging for death when I’m done”
*