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Out To Get Me

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Sammy was upstairs, nodding to music with his headphones on while looking for jobs to start during the summer. His mother was supposed to be cooking downstairs and the last he saw his father, he was on the couch reading the paper. Their family dynamic wasn't the best.

As best as they can, Sammy's parents would make sure he didn't know, but they were getting a divorce. Sammy didn't know the details, only being thirteen years old, but he knew it was his father's fault. He would sometimes feel his mother sneak into bed with him at night, crying softly, and Sammy didn't know how to handle that.

He didn't know if he should turn around and comfort her or pretend to be sleep. Sammy sighed. Maybe he should talk to her next time. After all, she was his mother. Sammy paused and looked at all the possible jobs he can have, glad he lives in a small town. He knew most people and surely one of them will help him.

His thought was interrupted when a loud thunder echoed throughout the house, shutting off the power. Sammy screamed but calm down, taking off his headphones. He looked outside to see the pouring rain. "That rain came out of nowhere," Sammy said quietly. He was surprised he didn't hear his parents' voices.

Usually, his mother would call him downstairs so they all can be in one room. "Mom?" Sammy called out. No answer. Sammy got up and made his way downstairs, barefooted. His blonde hair got in his eyes and he was walking blindly in the dark. Once downstairs, he was nervous since he didn't see any candles being lit up. "Mom? Dad?" Sammy called out.

No answer. Maybe they were in the basement, trying to get the lights working. Sammy smelt something burning in the kitchen. He moved towards it, nearly slipping on something wet on the floor. After a couple of times of almost burning his hand, he turned off the stove. He frowns at the wetness between his toes. It wasn't water, it was too thick for it.

Maybe Mom spilled something. "Mom! Dad!" Sammy called out. Nothing. A flash of lightning and a missed opportunity to see what that liquid was. Sammy walked into the living room and saw the couch was empty as well. Sammy was really starting to get nervous. He was about the head to the basement but was stopped when he felt a chill. He looked at the patio screen doors, which was open.

Why would they be out there? He walked over to close it but saw a figure out there. It looked to be his dad's height and size. "Dad!" Sammy called out, but a loud thunder covered his voice. Sammy walked out to help his father with whatever he was doing. The wind whipped his clothes and the rain shocked his body with cold drops.

Sammy ignores his cold, wet feet. "Dad?" Something glimmered on the ground and Sammy stops to lift it up. It was mom's wedding ring. What was it doing out here? And where is she? He looked up at the figure, halfway there. Something told him to go back to the house, but why? This was his father.

Sammy walked closer to the figure, cursing himself that he left his glasses. Then again, it wouldn't help against the rain. "Dad?" The figure turns to him, it seems like he was holding a shovel. Sammy stopped, wanting to cry. He was getting scared. "Dad?" Sammy asked quietly.

The figure ran towards him and Sammy ran back to the house. He wasn't sure anymore. He was scared. Where was his mom? He heard the stomps of heavy boots hitting the puddles. Quick lightning and a heavy thunder later, Sammy closed the patio doors and locked it. He looked around, but he was still in the dark. Sammy ran upstairs and to his room when he heard glass breaking behind him.

Sammy locked it and hid under his bed. He reaches for his phone and called the police, but when the operator answered, he heard footsteps and hung up. The footsteps were heavy and slow. Sammy covered his mouth when he was sure the stranger was by his door.

The stranger banged on the door, no words to be heard. Sammy was confident it wasn't his father. Sammy moved back when his doorknob turn violently. Sammy prayed for someone to help him. Sammy wanted his mother.

Then it turned silent. Nothing but the patter of rain hitting his window filled Sammy's bedroom. Sammy didn't dare move, afraid if it was a trick to get him to come out. But unknown to him, he was doom by staying in.


Sammy wasn't right when he was nineteen in college. He couldn't sleep that night, so he went to a party his roommate told him about. "I know today is a bad day, but all the more reason to go out and make good ones. Go out, get drunk and laid." Sammy was mostly focused on getting drunk when he made it there.

Shot after shot, his vision getting blurry and the room was swirling. His mind played tricks on him. Why the hell not? He's plagued when he's sleep, might well when he's drunk and awake. The mysterious man from his childhood lurked nearby, playing with him.

Sammy moved away from the table, trying to move, but his feet couldn't move right. Just when the door was in sight, the mystery man was at it and lock it. Sammy breath labored and told someone to look at the door. The person only pushed him away. Sammy was on his own. He bumped into people and spilled alcohol on the floor. It took him way too long to find the staircase and even longer to climb it.

The mystery man was coming after him. He knew it. But he didn't know why. What did he do wrong? Is it because he was alive? Sammy didn't see anything. He'll testify that in a heartbeat, mostly because it was true. Sammy found a room and closed the door.

He cried out, but no one came to help him. He climbed under the tight bed and begged for his mom. His friend. No one. The door busted open and Sammy covered his mouth. His heart raced and Sammy was close to throwing up. His vision swam, not helping him at all.

The night went by in a blur. But by the end up the night, Sammy was arrested. He didn't know why? But as he looked back, he saw the once sturdy house that held the party in ablaze. Fire touched the sky, heat against his skin, and bodies burning to a crisp. Only a few people who survived that night and they said it was his fault. Sammy hated them. One who was his roommate also didn't vouch for him.

Curse Them

Curse them all

He didn't do it.

But someone did.