The Darkness

I jumped up from my seat when I heard the sound of the door. I can't even remember when I dived. Judging by the brightness of the air, it was already morning. It was the doorbell that woke me up from my sleep... I knew that. I heard it even though I was sleeping. I quickly got out of bed, peeling off the blanket I was wearing with my feet. I took the broken lamp on my desk and slowly opened the door. Ahmed's sleep was not very light. He would not wake up easily. I opened the door and poked my head out to check the hall. The person entering the house must have been a thief. I scanned the hall with the lamp in my hand and began to look behind the curtain drawn by the noise coming from outside. Even if I couldn't see anyone, I could attest to the accuracy of the voice I heard. I was pinned in place by the darkness passing by the window. He was a large man, obviously wearing a hat. The hat detail suppressed my urge to worry. I pushed the thoughts that came into my mind to the background. This would not be so.

I looked around again and pricked my ear to see if anyone was in the house. When there was no sound, I went into his room to look at Ahmed. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw you sleeping on the bed. I checked the door lock. The lock was in place and locked.

I walked into my room and left the door open. I was scared, and I was sure I heard a voice. I suppressed my inner voice that said the person passing through the window was the person I saw yesterday. I sat on my bed, trying not to think. I jumped from the click of the window. It was the same darkness!

I just hid behind the bed. When I looked at the window, something was writing on the glass. I wrapped my arms around my trembling body and closed my eyes. I started to pray inside. I don't know how long I just stood there. Fear took over my whole body.

I started to cry silently like a madman. I lifted my head, resting on my knee, at the sound of my alarm. The sun-drenched room seemed unfamiliar to me. It was the first time I was afraid of this room. I got up and moved a little closer to the window. Our backyard was wooded and a quiet place. It was calming to me. Until this morning… When I pulled the curtain aside, there was a blood-red heart covering the glass. As soon as I saw the heart, I took a step back. This must have been a joke. Someone must be messing with me and playing a bad joke. I closed the curtain well.

I was faced with the worst shock of this morning with the note written on the mirror as I turned my back. This could not be. He couldn't have come this close. The blood-stained writing on the mirror, as I could tell by the sickening smell that came to my nose, indicated that I was finished. I had wrapped myself around someone I didn't know. What did I do when I wrapped it?

"It's too bad you noticed me so early, little one. Remember, I'm just a breath away!"

Remember, I'm as close as a breath!"

"It's too bad you noticed me so early, little one. Remember, I'm just a breath away!"

I opened and closed my eyes an immeasurable number of times to verify the accuracy of what I saw. Each time, the truth was hitting my face more and more with the blood flowing from the mirror, hurting me more. Each time my heart was pounding with more fear, I could hear my heart pounding with my ears.

This fear was indescribable!

This horror was indescribable!

I was done with one word. How would I deal with it? How was I going to deal with a scourge like this when I didn't even know what it was, who it was, or how dangerous it was, when I was alone and couldn't take responsibility for the nine-year-old? Without thinking, I reached out to wipe the mirror. I tried to delete the mirror until the writing was completely gone. Even though it looks worse now, it was better to look like a murder than to see that article.

It was actually murder. It was the blood of my soul. My soul was murdered by a maniac I did not know, with knife blows. He was in my house!

The metallic smell of blood was starting to make my head spin. The smell of blood coming to my nose was enough to make me nauseous. I rushed to the bathroom to wash my trembling hands. When I opened the fountain, the blood on my hand started to flow in the white sink. A stranger's blood was on my hands. Just like my soul got into his hands... There was only one difference. I was innocent; he was not. It wasn't, because he approached me knowing it would tear me apart. He was going to pull me into the dark on purpose! I thoroughly rubbed the soap on my hands. My trembling hands were freezing in the summer heat. I walked out of the bathroom, washing my hands thoroughly.

What I saw was real. Someone broke into my house. That man broke into my house! As I thought about it, I went to the outer door with the words that leaked into my mind. When I turned the lock in fear, the key had turned. This meant that that man also had the key to my house. Not knowing what to do, I threw myself on the sofa in the living room. I put my elbows on my knees and put my head in my hands. This man I didn't know must have broken into my house countless times. He saw me, Ahmed, while I was sleeping! I wanted to go crazy when I thought of God. What if he did something to us while we were sleeping? What would I do now? I run my trembling hands through my hair and lean back, tugging.

The house I've lived in for years felt spooky. Who knows how many times he had entered? How many times had he set foot in my house where I lived? Who was the worst man? And what did he want from me? If I hadn't looked yesterday, if I had taken care of my stupid eyes! Maybe I wouldn't have brought the trouble on me. What would I do now? WHAT WOULD I DO NOW?

Without thinking, I got up from the chair. First, I had to send Ahmed to school. He had to leave the house so as not to frighten her further. He was lying face down when I opened the door to his room. He was unbuttoned and sleeping like an angel. She was an angel, a pure angel, unaware of anything. An unlucky angel who lost his parents.

"Ahmed...Ahmed Get up, my sister." With the slightest shake of his arm, he opened his eyes. She was looking at me with her honey eyes swollen from sleeping too much. I forced my lips to curl despite my fear. "Get up; you're going to be late for school."

"Okay, I'm going to change and come," was his way of kicking me out of the room. He was young, but he was a mature boy, Ahmed.

“Okay,” I told him and went back to my room, where the smell of blood was dominant. The image in the mirror was goosebumps. Since I forgot the possibility of Ahmed seeing it, I couldn't think of deleting it. It would be foolish to leave my job to chance, even if he didn't get into my room much. Going back to the bathroom, I wet the duster and go back to my room. Even though I thoroughly cleaned all the blood on the mirror, there was an odor. I put the cloth in a bag and threw it in the trash. I couldn't wash it. I could never touch that blood again.