1 Streetlights

The streets were quiet. There wasn't a sound; not even the faint scurrying of a mouse on the old streets. The roads were dark, including the one, small road on the outskirts of the city. On this road was a streetlight, the streetlight that continued to flicker every night between midnight and one o'clock in the morning. The rumor that the whole town had heard but never seen. A home lays behind the streetlight, a family of eight inside. The light flickered, flickered, and flickered….

Then, stopped.

I wake up on a cold, misty morning in my warm bed in which I shared with one of my older sisters; Caroline. She's only nine, blonde hair, and pale skin, with exceptional hazelnut eyes that could look through your soul. She stood out in the family, most of us have brown hair and green or blue eyes. Myself especially, I only have short brown hair, with big green eyes that are almost like emeralds, at least that's what Mother says. I shift around in the twin-sized bed, careful not to wake up Caroline. My bare feet touch the ground and I immediately feel the cold nibbling at my toes, slowly crawling my skin. It's definitely February; Sunday, February 11, 1962, to be exact. Living in London is pretty cold, however, I've gotten used to it from my entire life.

It gets even colder when I open the window to see outside, people buzzing by, already starting their day, and I feel a rush of energy. However, this energy is different, almost unnatural. I ignore the feeling, believing it's my imagination, and go downstairs. Mother is in the kitchen cooking breakfast, the smell of bacon and eggs filling the air. Father is in the living room, sitting on the couch and reading a newspaper. Psychopath Kills Five is shown on the front with small pictures of people, a six in total. I glance around the house, taking in the small pieces of scenery. The first floor of the home is small, no walls are separating the kitchen from the living and dining room. Only a countertop that Mother uses to help make the meals.

"Good morning," I say, loud enough so both Mother and Father will hear me without it echoing through the house.

"Good morning, Ci-Ci. You want your breakfast?" she asked, holding a plate of fresh bacon and eggs in her hand. Mother isn't tall, but she isn't short either. Her long blonde hair sways while she heads to the dining to set the plate down in my normal seat, looking at me as if to say come here and eat. I understand her and head to the living room, catching a glance of Father. I freeze. There is a dark shadow in the corner, looking at Father with even darker eyes. It gives me the chills and I continue to make it be my imagination. It's just your imagination, I tell myself, praying to God that it's true.

"Ci-Ci? Are you going to eat?," Mother calls from the kitchen, making breakfast for the rest of my siblings.

"Yes, I just…" I pause wondering if I should tell her about the dark figure, but I brush it off. "Nevermind, I'm going to eat." I go to the table and sit, taking in the aroma of the food. I then pick up my fork and begin to eat, taste overflows my mouth as I savor every last bite.

After I finished the plate I brought it to the kitchen, said a simple 'Thank you,' and go upstairs to get changed. I get into the room and Caroline is awake, but she's just sitting in the bed, staring blankly at the door. I look at her weirdly, and normally she would have gotten on to me about making faces at people and how it's rude but she just continues to stare at the door blankly, unfazed by anyone or anything around her.

"Shhhhh...…..," she cautioned, turning her head to the side, "don't wake me up…" I then hear a loud giggle and Caroline falls back into the bed and is sound asleep. I'm dreaming IM DREAMING.... I repeat in my head. I feel like I'm going crazy, slowly losing my mind like the psychopath that was on Father's newspaper. First the unnatural presence, then the shadow behind Father, and now this….. I can't keep this to myself anymore.

I slip past the bed and get into my wardrobe, careful not to wake up whatever possessed Caroline. I put on a light blue dress, the design's a little ragged but it's one of my favorite dresses. Then, closing the wardrobe I slip to the door and go downstairs, running into my big brother Max. I hurriedly say, 'Good morning,' and he returns the greeting and tells me to be careful while playing outside. Of course, I'm not going to talk to him about the incidents so all I say, "Okay!," and run out the door. I'm going to talk to my friends about these incidents, they'll believe me.

Later that night, I return home, mentally exhausted from the betrayal of my so-called, 'friends'. I told them everything, from the eerie feeling to the incident with Caroline. They just laughed at me and told me I had a weird nightmare. I didn't, I know I didn't. This is real. But who can I tell this to? I can't tell my family, they'll believe it's witchcraft and maybe hurt Caroline, or they would tell me the same thing my friends told me. It's just a nightmare. It's just a nightmare…

I want to tell myself it's a lie, that's it's just a hallucination and I just didn't get enough sleep. I go to the kitchen and grab a glass from the cabinet, careful not to break it. The small sink quickly fills with water as it fills the cup, and I try to stop it as to not make a mess. The cup slowly comes to my lips as I take a few sips, then set it down again. However, it's not going away. That terrible uneasiness that surrounds the room, the dark clouds haunting my vision. It's frightening, so much to the point of insanity, yet I'm able to keep my composure. How? Why? My mind starts filling will questions, distracting me from reality, making me vulnerable. The feeling of someone grabbing my back then hits me.

My first intention was to scream, but before I could do so a dark, cold hand came from behind me and covered my mouth, filling each pore of my body with fear. I struggle yet this person, this THING keeps ahold of me. I feel the same uneasiness that I did this morning, and the same aura that surrounded Caroline, and the same look of evil penetrates the back of my head, just like it did with Father. His grip is tight like iron, and squirming was right next to useless in this situation. Sweat slowly trickles my face, my breathing heavier and heavier, more desperate for oxygen by the second. My mind starts going numb, and I faint from his hand depleting sweet air and the fear that ran through my being.

Waking up the next morning was tough, my hands felt rough and my body weak. My hand's intertwined with Caroline's and rush of happiness fills me. Her cold hand was in mine and I have always seen her as a parent more than anything. Wait, I thought, her hands are cold. I quickly sit up to find her severed hand in mine, and the rest of her body dismembered and glued back together. Like the person who did this regretted it, and wanted to fix her.

I scream, tears starting to spill down my face as I jump out of the bed and run to the other side of the room. The hand is still in mine, along with a note. The small price of paper is folded and covered in blood, my shaky hands peeling it from the part of the corpse. I slowly go back to the bed and set the hand down next to her and go back to the other side of the room. My 18-year-old sister, Yammie, then comes in to investigate the scream from earlier. Her eyes widen when she sees the scene, screaming. My mind goes numb, and I started to ignore my surroundings. I look at the note in my hand and peel it open, then my own eyes widen.

She really is beautiful, did you

kill her out of jealousy??

I thought you loved her...

My hands' quiver with fear, my face becoming green. I feel nauseous, and my mind is covered by reality. It sinks in, and little by little my sanity dies. My own handwriting scares me. I'm taken aback when I am continuously being shaken by Yammie, who is still in the room.

"What happened?" she questioned, her eyes already swollen from crying. I notice the rest of the family standing in the doorway, looking at the scene. They probably heard her scream, and also came to investigate. Their shocked faces tell me that they need answers, answers I don't have. I feel overwhelmed by the great tension set on my shoulders and start to cry. I'm holding on to Yammie, crying, and nobody knows what going on.

The couch's warmth is faded by the blanket of my memory. My eyes are closed, only because of my crying so much. The warmth from Yammie's lap if all I feel, but that's leaving me too. All the warmth is leaving me, and I can't even do anything about it. Before now I was struggling, thinking that maybe I should run away. It seems like the only good option, how long will it last I wonder?

Distant yells are interrupting my thoughts, "Ci-Ci? Ci-Ci! What happened?" She's almost shaking me, her emotions are pretty obvious, which is different than her usual poker face. I think. Why did this happen to me? Why my family? I start terrible flashbacks of what's happened in the past two days. My mind is heavy, my hands weak. My emotions aren't stable anymore, and I let out the rage and fear within myself. "I didn't do anything…. I didn't… do it…..I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!" My screaming breaks a few glasses and my vision is blurry with tears. I kneel on the floor, clutching my hair and wailing. Max and Ben try to grab me so I don't do anything rash, and Yammie and Sofia come to hug me and calm me down. I'm exhausted, I don't want to be here anymore.

I wanted to leave. Leaving and going to the little pond that I always played it with my friends. I wanted to stay forever. However, I couldn't. My family needed answers, and I'm the prime suspect for them. A dark shadow crosses my vision and I quickly turn my head to see it clearly. No one else notices, but the dark shadow in the corner overwhelms the room, making the mood darker. That's it, I thought. That shadow demon thing killed Caroline. My mind is suddenly relaxed, a huge tension feels as though it's been lifted off my shoulders. I laugh. I laugh at the realization of how stupid I've been acting. After I'm done everyone is looking at me weirdly like I have two heads. I sit down in embarrassment. The room's quiet.

My investigation begins.