Rain On The Windows

• Tiana F, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2021

All I could see was blood, smudged through the hallway floor and walls. The more I walked, the more blood there was, and the thicker it became. I stopped. There was something slanted at the end of the hallway, staring straight at me like a big rag doll. I took one more step.

It was a dead body.

I wanted to see who it was, so I took another step forward. To the left, I saw a pair of scissors lying on the floor. The blood and blades glinted in the light of my only torch. The blood had dried, its hair tangled into the blades. The more I looked, the more I thought about how it could have happened; who had done it.

I picked up the scissors. Those repulsive, dirty scissors.

I heard someone coming down the hallway, saw a light in the darkness. The light came closer and closer to me. I dropped the scissors and quickly turned my light off.

I needed to find a place to hide.

I hid in a room just a couple of doors down. I hunched over, lying under a hospital bed. There was shattered glass and needles pushing up against me. If I moved a muscle, someone would hear me, but I would rather have glass impaling me than get spotted.

I heard the person come closer to the room.

Light shone under the door. They were looking for something. Light shone through the window in the door. I looked over as slow as possible.

A pale white face was looking directly at me.

The thing came into the room.

I stood up with glass sticking into me. Blood dripped from the wounds where the glass had been stabbing into me when I was lying down, and I saw my fresh blood smeared on the cold, hard floor.

He saw I was wounded.

He came running towards me, and I jumped on the bed. I needed to get away from this thing. I scrambled to the window as fast as I could. It was smashed. I tried to climb through it. I got my head and arms through. I felt something grab my legs. I looked back and the person had hold of them. He pulled me back through the window, the shards of glass ripping into me. Blood went everywhere as he pulled me to the ground.

He held the scissors up to my face. The dried blood still stained the blades. I could see my reflection in the scissors. I knew that this would be the final time I saw myself. I knew I’d lost. There was no way I was going to get free from this person. I looked him dead in the eyes.

The last thing I remember is the sound of the scissors dropping on the floor.