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The End

A Horror Story

By Alexandra BasherPublished 6 years ago 4 min read
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The screams of my alarm clock wake me, and I reach over and hit the snooze. The clock reads noon, and I furrow my brows. My mother never lets me sleep this late, especially during the week. I climb out of the bed, and I head for the stairs.

"Mom!" I call out, but I don't get a response. "Dad!?"

Still no response. I descend the stairs which lead into the living room, but I don't see them. I search the entire house, top to bottom, but there's still no sign of them.

They never let me stay home alone. I run back up the stairs to my room, and I quickly rip my phone off the charger. I ring my mother first, and my heart begins to race as each ring carries out.

She always answers on the first couple of rings, and my stomach drops as I hear her voicemail for the first time. I ring my dad next in hopes that my mom just forgot her phone somewhere, but then I hear his voicemail and I know something's wrong.

My hearing is drowned out by the rapid thumping of my heart against my chest. I quickly make my way outside, not even caring to stop and put my shoes on.

To my dismay, their cars are sitting in the driveway, which means they should be home. I take a deep breath, and I try to compose myself. This has never happened before, so I don't know what's next.

I pull my phone out, and I send my mom a text that always gets her attention.

9-1-1.

I hit send, and I wait. I wait for what feels like an hour, but turns out to only have been five minutes. I let out a sigh as I don't receive a call or anything from her.

I let out a scream of frustration, and I chuck my phone across the yard. Useless. That's when I notice everything.

The world is silent. No chirping from birds. No cars in the distance, or anywhere for that matter. There's absolutely nothing. It's like I'm starring in a black and white film. No audio, only visual.

I pick myself off the ground, and I head to my neighbors house. I pound on the door consecutively for at least five minutes, but there's no response. I wasn't expecting one, mostly just hoping.

I have this feeling in my gut, and I start walking towards town, with no idea as to what's next. I don't see a single person, and the sky seems to be darkening. The blue fades into a gray, and lightning cracks across the sky.

I'm alone in this world, and I know this isn't a dream. My mom isn't going to magically appear and explain everything, because she's gone... like everyone else.

I finally see a figure at the end of the road, and my feet instantly start to pound against the hot cement. I've never run this fast in my life, but I need to know what's happening.

I run. I run even though I can barely breathe, and I push through. I ignore the burning sensation that has taken over my throat and the stinging that has taken over my feet.

I get to the end of the road, but the figure disappears. I look around, hoping to find the figure once more, and when I spot it I book it once more.

I stop dead in my tracks when I realize what I'm running to. The town cemetery. I spot the figure standing by one of the tombstones, and that's when it dawns on me. My mind flashes through images of every worst possible outcome, but I still walk forward.

The transition from hot pavement to cool grass gives my feet some relief, and my breathing returns to normal. My throat is still on fire, but I don't care.

I get closer to the figure, and I know I've seen it somewhere, but my brain isn't thinking properly, so I can't tell what it is. When I finally reach it, I question, "What's happening?"

I don't get a response. It extends its hand, and my eyes follow its direction. My eyes go wide, and my legs give out on me, causing me to drop to the ground on my knees.

My breath hitches in my throat, and that's when everything finally comes together. My whole world comes crashing down, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

I can't tear my eyes away from the name staring back at me. My own name. In that moment, it hits me harder than anything ever has before. I finally know what the figure is, or more importantly who the figure is.

"You're death," I call out, and my eyes wander back to him. The black cloth covering him from head to toe. The long scythe that accompanies him.

It finally makes sense.

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