Knock, Knock [SAMPLE]

Raelin Merkley shivers as hard droplets of rain soak her jacket, chilling her to the bone. Fearing that someone is following her, she casts a wary glance over her shoulder before returning her gaze to the house in front of her.

The storm continues, thunder crashing against the sky as Raelin clenches her fists. Her hair sticks to her cheeks in heavy layers, masking her tears, but not hiding the bruise that discolors her skin. It’s too late to cover it, not that she wants to. She’s tired enough for her limbs to scream in protest with every movement she had made since running from her home.

No. That’s not my home. Not anymore.

Water clings to the rose bushes that line the front of the house. A hesitant hand reaches out to graze the petals before drifting down to the thorns. One snags on the side of her finger, causing her to let out a shocked gasp. It bleeds, but it doesn’t hurt. Nothing hurts anymore.

Knock, knock.

Her fist bangs against the door twice as she looks over her shoulder again. Though she believes her boyfriend isn’t dumb enough to follow her out of the house, Raelin can never be sure. She doesn’t see any sight of him, and exhales in relief. She digs her teeth into her chapped lips and turns back to the door.

Heavy steps thud on the other side. Whoever lingers behind it pulls the door open just enough to see who is banging on the door so early in the morning. A dark brown eye peers through the slit.

“Raelin, now isn’t a good time.”

“I need help. Please.”

“Raelin-”

“Uncle Robert, please.”

The rain may hide the tears, but it doesn’t stop them. Rubbing a hand across his tired eyes, Robert steps back enough to let his niece in. She only wants him to listen to her for a few minutes, and then she’ll be gone. As much as she hates it, she knows she’ll end up going back to her boyfriend’s apartment after ignoring any advice her uncle gives. These visits to him happen every couple of weeks, and she realizes now that her uncle will tire of helping her at some point.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, wiping away the tears that still run. Robert says nothing, keeping a silence as chilling as the rain. “Where’s your dog?” she asks.

Robert pales, casting an uneasy glance toward the kitchen doorway. When he raises a hand to jerk his thumb in that direction, Raelin can see a splotch of red staining the cuff of his sleeve.

“Outside.”

“Oh,” she whispers, throat still raw from screaming at her boyfriend.

“Do you ever get tired of it all, Rae?”

She flinches at the use of her father’s nickname for her. Of course she is tired of it, and she knows well enough that her uncle is aware of that fact. The only difference between those prior visits and this one is that she is truly, finally done.

“I can help with that, Raelin.”

Her dull-blue eyes light up, hope beginning to claw its way into the girl’s chest. Her Senior year has been nothing like she expected. All she needs is Robert’s continued support, and everything will change. The tip of her frayed sneaker digs into the carpet as she follows him into the kitchen.

Streaks and puddles of blood decorate the tile, scrawled messily against the white like a child left unattended while finger painting. A thick gap seperate’s Willie’s throat; the dog’s cold, dead eyes straight into Raelin’s. Dread twists her stomach in knots, and the toast she’d had for breakfast forces its way up and onto a surprisingly clean square of tile.

Her throat burns. Questions pile into her head faster than she can get the words out. Her body would have gone numb if the rain hadn’t already done it.

Robert fiddles with a drawer, searching for something, but Raelin finds herself frozen. Her limbs have locked into place, preventing any type of movement or questioning about what had happened.

Questions and confusion fills her head faster than she can process it, making her mind a jumbled mess of thoughts that are unable to be sorted through. A dull but steady pounding takes over her head.

Robert has always been quiet and distant when it came to the family, keeping to himself rather than engaging with everyone else. Robert wasn’t a big social creature, and Raelin didn’t think there was anything wrong with that.

Her dad had always told her there was something wrong with Robert, but she never listened because he was her dad. Her mentally exhausting, alcoholic father was nothing but a liar— except, apparently, for when it came to his brother.

Raelin falls to her knees.

Her head becomes light, and she finds herself drained of the energy she needs to pick herself up again. The fight that morning with her ex-boyfriend has taken that from her. The pain comes far too quickly and all at once. She realizes how wrong she truly was; things still hurt.

The blade is dull and worn when Robert comes flying at her. Even the blood on the knife is pale and colorless. Raelin has no way of telling if it is old or if everything in the world now has that gray, lifeless hue.

The tip of the knife catches her in the forearm before she can react. Her blood is red; the same shade as the rose petals outside. It drips onto the floor, splattering and mixing in with Willie’s. She can’t tear her eyes away from the crimson liquid, even as the knife comes again into her back. Once, twice. Her hands scrabble against the ground, trying to find the balance to pick herself back up.

Raelin loses her count of the stabbings.

Exhaustion wracks her body, preventing her from saving herself. Blood coats her fingertips, leaving marks behind when she fails to pull herself up. Willie’s lifeless eyes still stare into hers, begging for help and release that will never come. The knife pierces her hand, pinning her to the floor, but no amount of screaming makes her uncle back off.

Within a second, she finds herself unable to move at all. Her eyelids become heavy, the peace of sleep calling out to her. Any will to fight has fled.

She isn’t sure when Robert finishes hacking into her flesh. She isn’t even aware until there’s a sharp metallic cling from the knife hitting the tile, and Robert bends to scoop his niece into his arms before carefully laying her next to Willie.

“I’m sorry, Raelin.”

The burst of questions his apology brings forth somehow manages to make her head hurt even more, although Raelin didn’t think such a thing was possible.

He bends to retrieve the knife, paying no mind to the girl and dog who lay there. Raelin can hear the sink begin to run as Robert scrubs his hands and the blade.

Raelin blinks once, her heart burning with the strength of a thousand suns. She does not know whether it’s the wounds or the heartbreak that finally kills her.