Chapter 19

I walk into the kitchen to see that my parents have moved Elizabeth to the table and tied her to a dining chair. It seems to be secure for now, although the rope has worn so much of her flesh off around her wrists and ankles. I can't bring myself to think about eating because I am paranoid that the smell of her rotting flesh has permeated everything in the house. It's rancid and I don't know how my parents stand it.

My mom is at the kitchen sink, humming a tune while she cuts up some vegetables. My dad is sitting at the table with Liz, reading a newspaper and oblivious to her vicious escape attempts and her murderous intent floating in the air. My mom turns around when I walk in and smiles. For a minute she looks the way she used too, but there's just something about her eyes that is off.

"I am so happy that you're staying for dinner darling, I do hope that your friends will make it back soon though."

I smile at her, not completely fake. "I hope so too; I am glad that I finally found you guys." I clear my throat and take a deep breath. "So, I think that my friends and I are going to go look for more people. Would you want to come with us?"

All noise ceases beside Elizabeth thrashing around, limp hair flying around as she shakes her head back and forth. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board, my dad flipping the pages of his newspaper, it is all gone. They both look at me, that weird look stronger now. My mom is the first to talk.

"Oh honey, you really shouldn't try to leave. Your sister hasn't been doing well and she needs your support. You wouldn't want to be a bad sister, would you?" The glint in her eyes is almost threatening.

I gulp, beginning to regret mentioning anything and choose to try the brash route.

"Mom, Dad... Elizabeth is gone now, you see that don't you? You are both in denial, we need to leave before she hurts one of you." My voice cracks at the end.

I don't want to leave my sister behind, but I also don't want my parents to befall the same fate that she did. Before I get a chance to say anymore my mother brings her hand across my cheek full force. The sting causes my eyes to water and I can feel the heat left behind from the impact.

"How dare you say such things about your sister. What has she ever done to you? We will not abandon our child." Her voice is downright venomous until her demeanor breaks.

My mom starts to cry; her behavior is scaring me. I raise my hand to feel where she hit me, but I still can't believe it. She has never raised a hand to me that I didn't deserve.

My dad walks over then and gets close to my face, standing between my mom and me.

His voice is very low when he speaks, unlike anything I have ever heard him say. "It's time for you to go to your room. You can think about what you've done, upsetting your mother like that." His facial features are hard, and he doesn't look like my dad at this moment.

He takes my upper arm in his hand and directs me to the guest room in my aunt's house. He lightly pushes me in, and I hear a noise on the other side of the door. I rush over and try to open the door but something is blocking it. I collapse to the floor, panic overtaking me. My chest is tight, and I try to breathe but it feels like the walls are closing in on me.

I can't save them. I can't save them.

I repeat it in my head repeatedly.

I don't even know if I can save myself.

Finally, the dam bursts and the tears are flowing freely, soaking my face. I made it, they are alive and well. But at the same time, they aren't. They aren't my parents anymore. Now, they are just vessels for insanity and my poor sister, they won't just put her out of her misery. It pains me to think about her in this form, I don't want to remember her this way. I want to remember her as the kind, adventurous girl that she was. The kind of girl that would throw herself in front of a car to save someone else.

My tears stop and my breathing evens out eventually. I still have no idea what I'm going to do. The door won't open, and I don't know what side of my parents I've unleashed with how they acted just a while ago.

My thoughts drift to Jackson and Mikayla and I'm upset again. I don't want to be trapped in this room and then they leave me behind. I realize now that my parents are never going to be the same again. I need to get out of here, and I need to save my sister's memory before I do it. I already know I don't have the guts to stop my parents, I will just have to find a way to do it without being detected.

If they got that mad about what happened in the kitchen, what would they do to me for this?

The thought makes me shudder. I stand up and look around the room. It's very plain with a white bedroom set to match the off-white walls and carpet. I am looking at the mirror on the dresser when I get an idea. I need to be able to protect myself if push comes to shove. I have seen it in enough movies to know I need to wrap my hand before I break it. I take the pillowcase off one of the pillows and wrap it around my knuckles before turning away from the mirror and walking over to the lone window. We are two floors up so I don't think my parents would expect me to jump, and if I did, I would probably be hurt enough that they would just capture me again before I got away.

Taking a deep breath, I pull my arm back as far as I can and close my eyes before slamming my fist into the windowpane with all my might. It shatters, broken pieces of glass clattering to the floor around me. I can only hope that my parents are in the basement with Elizabeth and that they didn't hear me.

I could probably get away right now. I wouldn't be able to save Elizabeth, but I could for sure save myself.

The issue weighs heavily on my heart. Guilt at the thought of running off and leaving my sister and parents to this weird obsessive game ruins me. I can't leave yet. I sigh, my breath is shaky and my fist sore. Red seeps into the white fabric surrounding my fist. It blooms across the soft white fabric, spreading out as far as it can. I'm captivated for a moment, watching my blood soak through the pillowcase. Then I grab a big shard of glass and toss the pillowcase to the ground. There are quite a few cuts on my hand, but they are all seemingly shallow. I am hoping that I will be fine until I get back to Jackson and Mikayla. Tucking the glass into the side of my jeans, I holler for my dad, hoping that he hears me and falls for what I am about to do.