Bright colours shocked my vision as I stepped outside of my house and onto the dewy, soft grass that reached up to brush the bottoms of my feet. Trees interlaced their leaves and weaved a beautiful blanket of lustrous green that billowed over my head. Sunlight vivaciously danced and twisted on the ground, swirling in entrancing patterns onto the street ahead. It was just another picturesque day. My name is Elizabeth Robinson and if there is one thing you must know about me, it should be my adoration of nature. Since growing up in such a beautiful town, I have fallen in love with the stunning colours that scatter the landscape. It's almost as if the colours are a safety blanket that makes me feel like nothing can hurt me.

Abruptly, a blood-red, glossy car pulled up next to our driveway, clambering onto the pavement. A skeletal, sickly man with raven hair slid out of the car. 

"Hello little girl, is your mother home?" he questioned in a cold, flat tone. 

"No, she's out at the moment. Can I ask why?" I stated curiously, searching the deep, swirling pits that were his eyes. 

"I just have something for her, can I leave it inside?" he inquired, looking down at me, examining my every motion. My mum often had deliveries for her job as an artist, but this man seemed bitter and hollow and I didn't recognize him from any of her previous deliveries.

"Um, I'm not sure, can you come back when she's home?" I stuttered cautiously, taking short, hesitant steps back into my house with my shoulders hunched. 

"I don't think it can wait, this is an extremely serious delivery", he replied leisurely, following me in outstretched strides, his shoulders hunched over me, encasing me in darkness. My body stiffens and I refrained from my tentative track, making the mysterious man stop still. I thought about it but couldn't find any reason not to let this man in. After all, my mum will want her supplies and I don't want her to get upset because of me.

"Okay." I muttered shyly, my eyes cast down to the grave, trodden grass that was now frowning to the mud. Despite the sky looking cloudier, the branches of the trees sagging towards the ground and the situation feeling somehow odd, I let him in.

He slithered in like a serpent finding its next meal and I could hear the constant drone, thud, thud, of his bleak boots on the pristine tiles. I stayed pinned to the kitchen counter, fingers idly tracing the phone, watching his every move with wide eyes. Now hunched over the table in the middle of the room, he violently dropped the box I didn't even realise he was carrying. His cold, brown eyes glared at me, flicking between my eyes and the phone my fingers were still dancing along.

"Um, thanks. You can go now" I mumbled in a shaky voice, eyes flitting to the open front door.

"Not even offer me a hot drink, after I came all this way?" He questioned, tilting his head in feigned confusion as he slowly stalked toward me. His hand was hovering over a black shape and my eyes widened as I realized what it was. My fingers finally gripped the phone and yanked it to my ear, but I knew it was too late.

He twisted sadistically towards me, his hand firmly slammed against the wall. Cold metal met the side of my neck.

"Don't make a sound or I'll kill you. Get in the car."

I stiffened in shock. Eyes wide, I stepped forward tentatively with his hand burning cold on my back, gun still buried in my neck. As I moved away from the wall, the gun came to pierce my back. I stepped over the threshold of my house and back into our front garden, eyes darting to look at my neighbours' houses. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed someone, anyone, to hear my silent prayers and see me being marched out by a complete stranger. 

But no one came. And in that moment, I was the most alone I have ever been in my whole life.

We crossed the garden too quickly for my liking and I found myself staring at the door of the car, painted the ugliest shade of red I had ever seen. It looked even more ugly now I knew the intentions of the man that chose it.

I was stuffed in the car, the gun now scraping my thigh, out of sight. The car grunted to a start and time was suddenly running a race because soon fingers were wrapping around my arm and cruelly yanking me out. He pulled me into the dingy, weak forest and my mind started running a race too, wanting to beat time. We walked for ages, pushing lifeless branches away and kicking up limp leaves.

All of a sudden, we stopped. Wild, dull eyes met mine.

"Dig" he muttered coldheartedly.

"Why?" I whimpered, reaching up to grasp at my suddenly soggy cheeks.

"It'll be your resting place. Make it good."

A sob sprang up in my throat, but I didn't want this moment to last any longer. Sodden grass consoled my knees as I desperately scraped at the ground, dirt making a final resting place under my nails. Even this moment seemed to pass fast. Maybe my mind didn't want to remember such horror.

All at once, I was pulled sharply up by the dishevelled collar of my shirt and calmly pressed to his side.

"Kneel down and don't make a sound."

His voice pierced my rapid thoughts. The moment has finally come. I slowly sunk to my knees, thinking silent fruitless prayers.

One last phrase burst from my blue, chapped lips:

"Please, make it quick."

My surroundings no longer comforted me. Bright colours were replaced with a funereal wash of darkness that stamped out the hopeful sun. Trees contorted to stare heartlessly at me, laughing sickly in the wind at the event unfolding in front of them. The frigid gun spiked a burning ring on the back of my head.

I've always hated the dark. Now I know why.