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Join date : 2013-04-04
Location : Under a rock... Wait...
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PostSubject: The Picture   The Picture Icon_minitimeFri Nov 01, 2013 4:24 pm

There's this picture in my bathroom. It’s of a woman picking flowers at a cottage in a dress. I used to have nightmares about it, since the woman looks as if she’s wearing a mask. She seemed to be ready to look up at any second. I imagined her wearing one of those mass murderers mask, a creepy, piercing stare behind the mask. I blamed my love for horror stories, movies, and other things such as games. I didn’t even think twice when I catch myself staring at her through the mirror, just waiting for her to move her head, fortunately my imagination wasn’t that bad those days, and I managed to walk out of the bathroom a few moments later, her still unmoving.
On a night where I was home alone, I stayed downstairs waiting their arrival. I had the Television off, and I didn’t care about turning the lights on, knowing it would attract family members or neighbors walking into our house. I walked into the bathroom, again seeming to be mesmerized by that picture. I kept staring at her, this time… noticing something off, one of her arms seemed to have been moved in a different place. It used to be at her side, barely visible, but this time, it was out in the open, and was in plain sight. I stared at the picture through the reflection of the mirror, turning around, seeing it normal. I hurried out of the bathroom, turning on the lights and the television before gaining the courage to take the picture and throwing it out.

A few weeks of peace made me think everything was okay. I no longer saw anything in the mirror, nor did I see the picture. But, then I was alone again. I went to the bathroom to get ready for bed, freezing as I saw the picture, back in its place in the bathroom. I still, mesmerized as the picture seemed to come to life. The images from my dreams not being true, as she turned her head, the mask seemed to fall off, tattered bits of flesh fell to the ground, the basket where her flowers were, she pulled her arm up, revealing a blood stained hand, and a knife. The basket seeming to have a head in it, my eyes widening in horror as I realized the head was my roommate, who went out with her friends in a movie. She seemed to straighten up, a sort of limp in her walk as she went towards me, I hurry out of the bathroom, grabbing my cell phone and hurrying out of the apartment.

I called my roommate, no answer. I took a shaky breath and texted her. Nothing. I attempted to call the police, but the cell phone service seemed to have disappeared. I heard a bang from the apartment building. Turning to run, but all I noticed was the feeling of pressure on my body, the lady now looking down at me, her smile wild as the flesh from her nose dangled down and almost hit me, her knife covered in my roommate’s blood. I couldn’t even scream.
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