Horror logo

A Culpable Love!

by J.X. Leiva about a year ago in fiction

Part 1 of This Mini Horror Saga!

A Culpable Love!
Photo by Mohit Tomar on Unsplash

Every single day I look in the mirror and see nothing but corpses with no soul. Skin so white and pale. Big dark circles around my eyes and bags that are so big that it looks like I have layers of fat under them. My hair is so dull and lifeless, tangled in bunches and knots. My lips are turning grey with many cracks spread throughout. I turned to the side and I saw an outline of my spine on my back. I haven’t been eating much but I really don’t see why I must fill myself with food when I feel nothing regardless of anything I do. I put my shirt back on, I wear long sleeves so no one can see my cuts and bruises I’ve gotten from school soccer practice. I look into my dark brown eyes that seem black from a distance. Dead. All I see is a soulless human nothing to live for but the amusement and satisfaction of people. I might as well be a machine. All I do is follow orders. It’s like the whole world has me on chains, pulling me further and farther until I break. Unfortunately for them, I’m already broken.

My friends think that I’m so damaged. Maybe they're right. I’ve become extremely distant from my family and friends but I don’t mind. All I want is for the world to shut up for at least one hour, not hear anything that will annoy me. But unfortunately, we live in a world where teenagers become the dumbest and loudest bunch of people ever, with their phones never leaving their side, like if it is some form of an element that they need to survive. The only people that I really tolerate are the teachers and my friends.

Teachers are supposed to help you educate and increase your IQ, but still, they tell me what to do and what not to do, although they are kind and good listeners almost like another friend. Obviously, I want to be smarter than most of my family, but that doesn’t give the right for some teachers to limit our creativity. But at the same time, I really don’t have any creativity, so I don't really know why I am complaining.

My friends understand I'm not the talkative person, or the person to come up with plans to hang out. I hang out with them when they make plans. Usually, the times I really do speak is to inquire about the plans for today or to try to agree with someone. Honestly, I feel like my friends are the only people I can trust. I’ve told them a lot of personal things and they respect me for that. Maybe they are my only family. That's why I have the tendency to hang out with them every day; because they understand me. But today I’m at home alone, in the bathroom, trying to understand why I'm feeling like this. Empty.

I turn to the bathroom door and unlock it, making a high -pitch click sound. I turn the doorknob and open the wooden door. I turned off the light and walked down the hallway. I passed many white wooden doors with golden-colored handles, and many old paintings hanging between each door. We had plain yellow wallpaper for every room, which I found to be quite as annoying. I looked down to my feet, which I had some black, rubber boots on, stepping on the red carpet with brown floral designs on it, and under that was a dark brown wooden floor that was so shiny that people could see their reflections on it.

I walked further down the hallway, past our white staircase that heads down to the second floor, where there was a black, wooden door on it with a silver doorknob. I opened my bedroom door when I heard a click behind me and everything turned black. My hearts start to race intensely, as I stand there with fear spiraling around me. I froze. No one should be home by now. It was spring break and I was the only one in the house. In my mind, the first thing I think of is that someone broke into the house. My body stiffens for a moment but slowly turned around. No one. I thought this was odd. I left the bathroom door open and now that old wooden door is closed. My heart is starting to race faster and faster which each thought continues penetrating me intensely. In the back of my mind, a voice keeps telling me to run, run to my room, and lock it. And that’s what I did. I ran across the hallway and to my bedroom and shut the door as soon as I ran in, followed by a click when I locked it. I’m resting my forehead on the door while my breath is trying to slow down. I press my ear against the frame of the door to see if any sound is coming from the hallway. My breath has finally become quiet.

Thump! Thump Thump! Thump! Big heavy footsteps seem to become closer to the bedroom door. I think for a second, it’s odd just in a matter of seconds I can go from feeling nothing to feeling the extreme fear that has grown immensely especially since I just realized that the thumps are getting louder. thump! Thump! THUMP! THUMP! I jumped on top of my bed and covered my whole body with my blanket. I was speechless. My breathing is starting to increase again. I could hear the doorknob shaking and rattling, the knocking of the door. I close my eyes for a second, praying and wishing whoever this was to go away. Then it stopped. I open my eyes again, almost wincing at the bright light coming through the holes of the blanket. I slowly slip off my blanket, exposing only my head as I look at the door.

"Jay, Sweetie? Its mommy. Open the door, honey."

Mom? Is she home early? I turned to look at my nightstand and see that it was 11:32 in the morning. She never had come this early before.

"Honey, your little sister is sick, I think she needs to go to the hospital, you don't want her to die don't you?" She said in singing like tone.

My mind clicked immediately and now I know that she's not my mother. My little sister was going away with her friends to Virginia Beach. She wasn't supposed to return until Sunday. My mind starts to panic quietly hoping for this nightmare to end. . . . . .

End of Part 1. Part 2 Coming soon.


J.X. Leiva

Hey Y'all. My name is Jason, is your reading this, your probably wondering what I have to offer. WELP! Let me just tell yah that my life comes with funny situations that offer life lessons and advice I can dispose of. Like a sh*tty sitcom.

Read next: The Worst Horror Movies of 2017

Find us on social media

Miscellaneous links

  • Explore
  • Contact
  • Privacy Policy
  • Terms of Use
  • Support

© 2022 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.