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At 9 o'clock that evening she got home. She walked from her car up the front path to the door and put the key into the lock. She opened the door and stepped into a dark entry hall.
No lights on? That was odd.
A soft sound, almost unnoticeable but in the eerie silence of the seemingly empty house she couldn't help but notice.
"Mom? Daddy, is that you?"
They knew she'd be home at nine, where could they be?
She walked down the hall to the kitchen, thinking she might find a note on the fridge when she went to retrieve something to eat. She didn't find a note. Blood on the refrigerator handle.
Shaken she stepped back, her body trembling.
"Mom?! Daddy!?" She shouted into the empty house. "Hello.?" She whispered, her eyes welling with tears.
She wasn't foolish though, she grabbed the largest knife from the holder on the kitchen county before heading back into the hall. She turned on the lights in the hall way, looking around.
Silence, an empty hall way, and a hall rug soaked in blood, so much of it, surely one person couldn't leave so much? Not if they were still alive.
Up the stairs, the second floor was completely dark, her parent's bedroom door, barely ajar.
Shaking with fear she moved forward, tears rolled down her cheeks, it was all she could do to hold on to her only means of defense.
With a shaking hand she pushed the door open, it stopped after two feet, jammed by something.
Squeezing through the gap she found her father, dead on his back, stabbed multiple times.
She fell to her knees, shaking him, refusing to believe the corpse before her was her murdered father.
A gasp. Soft, barely able to be heard.
"Who's there?!" She cried, whirling.
"No one." came the reply.
The bathroom, adjacent to her parent's bedroom. Trembling she rose, taking the knife and moving forward once more.
She shoved the bathroom door open, lunging in, someone in the shower, a stab a scream, the thud of a body falling.
A laugh from behind, she whirled. Someone's eyes, glinting in the moonlight filtering through the window into the dark bathroom.
"Who are you!?" she screamed as below the eyes a wicked grin appeared.
She flailed out with her free hand, flipping the light switch as she brought the knife down toward her parent's killer.
The shatter of glass, a mercilessly cruel laugh.
She starred at the reflection in the cracked mirror, a cream blouse turned red with stains of blood, a skirt dripping crimson.
"I'm you..." Her reflection whispered, staring back at her with that same wicked grin.
- * - * -
"Cell #23146, new arrival." The orderly muttered to his comrade as he checked off the mark on the list of patients.
"What's with that one?"
"Multiple Personality Disorder. Poor thing, one persona killed her own parents. The other side had no clue, came home find her father dead, mother was hiding in the shower, girl mistook her for the father's killer, stabbed right through the heart on the first go."
"Geeze. Poor kid."
"No kiddin' eh?"
The first shook his head, looking into the padded cell at the beautiful young woman, curled into a corner, tucked into a ball and wrapped in a straight jacket, a wicked grin upon her lips, and unbearable grief in her soft blue eyes.
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Author's Note: This idea came to me while looking at myself in my bathroom mirror without the light on.
I hope you enjoyed it.
And a very happy early Halloween. (