Day of the Dead.


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5. 12:00am

They were at our house. Knocking on converted windows. Hitting the sides of the house. Every sound made me cringe. Finally a knock on the door. Then an abnormal creaking. 

                              The door. 

We were all so confident. And we all forgot. Our 40 year streak would be over. And one of us would be dead. 

Mum. 

Dad.

Sister. 

Brother. 

Me.

I heard the door close again. That was abnormal. Strange creaking on our carpeted floors. 

We were prepared. 

We were prepared. 

We were.

Were.

The sound of stretching limbs and I felt the room damped and get chillier as what every They were entered. Quiet padded noises. It felt like we were waiting forever. For it to be gone. For us to be gone. I didn't dare move to clench Sister's hand tighter. 

I suddenly wished that I had covered my face with the blanket, but it was one of my pet peeves. I liked to breath cool air, when the rest of me was warm. I hated myself in that moment. Another creak. 

Another. 

Another. 

Another. 

I could feel it close to me, feel the nearness when nothing else really was. Feel the coldness emanating off of it. Silence. Uncomfortable silence. I wanted desperately to reach out and grab a marshmallow but I knew that I would touch that thing. 

No one knew what happened when you touched one on Them.

I felt a cool something brush my cheek. Sweetly but colder than anything I had ever felt. But it was also nice. Something stroking my cheek. I shivered uncontrollably. My sister and brother stiffened beside me. But nothing came after me. I was still here. I heard creaking and the door open and close. We all let out a collective breath. 

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