Red Roses (Part 3)

…

“I’m on your driveway.”

I froze, wanting, even yearning to look out the door and find that he wasn’t there and that the unknown caller was just a stupid prank. But no, I knew that wasn’t true – there was someone out there, that I was sure of. Quickly I ran up the stairs and hid in the “secret” bedroom; the “secret” bedroom is what my mother designed into the house, you had to pull down a book from this shelf in order to open the door. He wouldn’t be able to find me there. To make sure of it I put my phone on silent.

I heard foots thundering as the mystery man stepped unto the porch. Surprisingly my phone rang, even though it was on silent. I panicked but still answered.

“I’m at your house.” The caller hung up. The door opened. I heard the steps go up the stairs. Then everything was silent.

The voice said, “I’m in front of the room.” Shivers were sent down my spine. I tried looking at the person through the little crack on the secret door. The face looked directly at me – it was my mother. I could smell her scent.. her perfume filled the area. That’s all I remember until everything went pitch black.

Little after that, the caller – my own mother, who killed me – would put white roses on the spot where the gun penetrated me. The blood soaking from the spot would turn the white rose into red. My mom would cry softly saying, “I only did it to get back at your dead father…”