I'm a bit iffy on this one . I will improve this, because I am not particularly glad with the chapter

Eyeless Jack

You clawed at the sheets on your bed, curled up into a ball to keep your warmth in the blanket. The sky had turned dark a long time ago, school had been dismissed long before that too. But you never saw any of it.

The blankets you had wrapped around you were seeming to get heavier every second, your eyes wanted to fall shut and sleep, but you couldn't allow it. The panic you feel, the idea that you will be stabbed in your sleep was rather ridiculous, but it was real.

You glanced at the door right on the side of the bed, your bed was still in the place you had dragged it to, still doing its barricade job. You sighed.

You have been stuck in your room for about two days now, with nothing to do and no one to talk to. Your step-father was so violent the other night, and it had honestly scared you. Hell, that was the understatement of the century.

When a drunken man chases you with blood in mind and calls you horrible names, you are scarred for life. As much as you would like to move your bed from the door and take a single step of freedom from your room, you just couldn't. He could be out there, with a large knife in one hand and a glass bottle in the other. Waiting.

Just waiting for that one chance you take.

With all this in mind you weren't exactly hopping with excitement to see him.

You went down into your blankets a little deeper, holding the crinkling plastic water bottle in your hand like the teddy bear you really needed and didn't have. No, whatever bear you had before had been disposed of and taken away, but your mom had been paranoid enough to leave water bottles near.

Your mother was an interesting woman, she was often paranoid about a lot of things that made sense, such as you getting sick, having her car stolen, not having dinner ready in time. But she was also paranoid about things that seemed far too unlikely to happen, the kind of things that sort of get dumped into the middle of your hometown and completely destroy it. Natural disasters, to put in simple words.

So in the precaution of being prepared, she would always stash some sort of supplies in different rooms. You had thanked your mother's paranoia repeatedly, being that she had stashed some water and a first-aid kit in the corner of your little closet. The thought that your mother had still managed to help you even after having died made you feel warm and reassured. It was like if your mom never left.

The kit was completely useless to you, you had kept that at the side of your bed however, just in case you had to throw it at someone. The water was great, you can manage to stay alive for a few more days.

But for what?

That was your question: What would you have to be alive for? You had missed a lot of school lately, you were behind on your education just slightly. Your step-father would only hurt you again.

You hugged the water bottle in your hand, the sound of the plastic crinking from the hug somehow reassuring. You just lay in bed, trying to ignore all the thoughts going through your head, but it was so very difficult to do when they were practically shouting at you.

Did you have to live?

The idea wheeled over and over into your mind, a little hamster just running along its little wheel. But your thoughts were suddenly shoved into a complete halt when you heard something.

You shut your eyes, instantly getting sore from how tightly you had closed them, and hugged your bottle. Every little noise you heard was taken like a warning sign, a way to immediately think you are in danger, though that would usually not be the case. The sound could have been nothing more than a floorboard settling underneath you, or maybe a small rodent running the length of your bedroom floor, but you couldn't convice yourself of these excuses and explanations. This sound was too different, far too...calculated almost.

The mysterious sound was familiar, a sort of deep scraping of wood sliding against wood, slowly, as if it was trying to keep as quite as possible. You almost wouldn't have heard it, honestly, had it been any quieter.

It wasn't your door, though, your bed was still blocking it from the incident two days ago. The only conclusion you had was that it had to be your window, but how could it be opening? Still not wanting to open your eyes, you clenched your teeth to keep yourself from screaming for help. No sort of window could just open by itself-

Horror struck you when you realized at last: someone was breaking into your room.

But that had to be impossible! Your room was on the second floor, and there were no obvious ways to get to your window. Most likely, the reason you had never noticed it before, was because the possibility of something-or someone-ever being able to get up that high was far crazier than aliens existing.

On some sort of instinct you could name, you sat up on your bed, the water bottle still at hand, and opened your eyes, letting your eyes trail over your room in the dark for your intruder. Your eyes have gotten used to the dark quite a bit from just looking at the ceiling since the sun had set and having them shut for a while.

You were right. Your window was wide open, and a chilling air was escaping inside. But there was no one around the opened window, whatever it was, it must have noticed you getting up and hid somewhere.

"Hello? Is someone there,"You asked cautiously, knowing full-well that an intruder would never answer. It wasn't as if they would say that they are there, the whole point was to stay hidden and unnoticed...but there was no mistaking the presence of someone in your room other than yourself. And the smell...

Your eyes narrowed as you wafted the smell that seeped in along with the chilly air in your room. It was a rusty kind of smell, kind of like some sort of iron, but with a sharp edge to it. You felt light-headed the more you thought about it, and you knew what that smell was, you had smelled it before on several occasions when your step-father had managed to catch you in his drunken haze.

Blood. That metallic scent was that of blood.

It didn't take much to put the pieces together, you were not an idiot. Someone was breaking into your room in the dead of night, trying to be quite and hidden, and he smelled heavily of blood.

Someone was obviously going to kill you, not that the knowledge made you any less terrified than you were at that moment. But it did, however, set a small, tingling thought in the back of your mind.

Carelessly, you tossed the sheets of your bed off of you as you made your way to stand up, leaving behind your water bottle on your pillow. "I know you're there,"You announced to the dark.

Silence. Nothing but dead silence, but you weren't going to just let it fall there, you had to know just who this person was. It was really bothering you for some reason. You had to know, because there was something...something that you wanted to do...

"It doesn't matter if you hide, just show yourself already,"you said, taking a step forward. A fatal mistake.

A flash of blue and blurred black covered your vision for a mere two seconds before you felt an arm wrap around your throat tightly, and somthing sharp sliding across your cheek before being pointed directly at your face. Your hands went up to the arm around your throat and clutched them tightly, as if you were about to pull them off, but that sharp...something was the one thing keeping you from doing anything further. The smell of blood was stronger than before, and it made you feel light-headed like before, but to a near-fainting point this time.

Then, a voice spoke near your ear, a bit muffled, as if something was keeping the person from speaking clearly,"You are such an idiot. You never invite someone to show themselves, you never live after that."

You could tell your soon-to-be murderer was a guy, obviously not your step-father, his voice sounded far too young to be that old man, it was more like a teenager's voice. His hands had gloves on, and the sleeves of what appeared to be a sweater were black. But in the desperate situation you were in, the appearance of the guy, however limited it was, being that he was suffocating you behind, was the least important thing right now.

Your eyes started watering, not with the want to cry, but with the need to breathe. He, whoever 'He' was, had his arm tight around your breathing channel, effectively cutting off most of your oxygen take-in. Still, with the little air you had passing in short gasps in your lungs, you managed to let loose a few words,"I-I needed to ask you something..."

"What would that be,"asked your mystery murderer's muffled voice, not being able to hide the confusion in his voice, he must have never had someone ask him anything right before they are about to die.

In an almost slow-motion kind of way, you took ahold of the hand with the sharp, knife-looking object and let your fingers limply hold the weapon, feeling the boy tense when your fingers brushed it,"Let me do it."

"What,"asked the muffled voice behind you, dumbfounded and confused, his hold on your neck loosened a bit, much to your relief.

You sighed, taking in a deep breath with the extra room to breathe, and tightened your hold on his sharp weapon, almost taking it completely out of his hands, and answered his question,"If I am going to die...then let me do it."

Yep, this was me when I was twelve. Except I never had someone break into my room, unless you count the cute little mouse that lives in my bedroom.

Erm, hope you enjoyed! Sorry, I can't help but make them so long, they can be short, if that is what you prefer.

**People say monsters have no hearts.

They Lie.**