• The house was silent. All four of us were dead to the world, Mum and Dad together in the same bed for the first time since Dad bought his workshop. Outside, everything was eerily quiet, as if the world were holding its breath, waiting for the nightmare to start. I woke with a start, and heard Lunick crying. This was strange in itself, as Lunick only cried if he didn’t get his own way. But this was 2am. What could he want?
    I rolled my eyes and dragged myself out of bed. I was awake. I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep for hours. I rounded the corner into his room and was surprised to see him hiding on top of his wardrobe. Two more weird things: “On top of the wardrobe” and “hiding”.
    A voice came out of the lump. “He’s coming to get us.”
    “Who?”
    “The man.”
    “What man?!?”
    No other answer came from him. He simply pointed to the window. I crept over to the window and peeked out, my heart thudding…
    There was nothing.
    But wait…did we have a garden gnome usually?
    I turned to Lunick. “It’s just a gnome!”
    But he just carried on pointing. I glanced outside again, then stared, confused. What happened to the gnome?
    Just as I went to turn to Lunick again, I heard a small thud downstairs. Lunick squeaked, then retreated as close to the back of the wardrobe as he could. Feeling a twist of both curiosity and fear, I looked at the lump of Lunick one last time, then sneaked downstairs. I crept into the kitchen, heard a gasp and next thing I know, a blunt object is brought down on my head so hard it should have killed me, and I’m out cold.

    * * * *

    When I come to, it’s deathly quiet. I try to rise, but the room spins and I collapse back down again. I look to the floor around me, and there are muddy footprints everywhere. When I recover, I haul myself up again. I switch on the light, and look again. What I realise gets my heart thudding so hard my body pulses with every beat. There are more than one set of footprints, about five in total. The footprints are muddy, and head towards the stairs. I listen out to see if I can hear any breathing, or footsteps, or anything…but there’s nothing. I try to scream, but there’s a lump in my throat and I just squeak. I listen out again for any signs of life upstairs and in the house, and then woozily clamber upstairs to mum’s room. The door is closed, and there’s an eerie silvery light shining in the gap under the door. I summon all of my courage, then turn the handle.
    The first thing I see when I swing open the door is red. Red, red, everywhere. I look around. The bed, furniture and walls are covered in it. Blood. There are scraped handprints on the floor, and signs of a struggle. The moon’s silvery light shines through a blood-stained window, casting a ghostly glow on the room. In one corner is a splatter of navy liquid, a sort of honey-like substance. But this doesn’t compute, and I search for any signs of my parents.
    There’s nothing but blood. No bodies, no clumps of hair or slits of cloth, just that horrible red. I panic. It can’t be happening. I pinch myself, realise that I’m either in a sleep where I’ll never wake up, or this is reality. This is what’s happening. I follow the scrapes of blood where something large, heavy and bloody has been dragged, and barge into Lunick’s room. I dash to the wardrobe, slip in blood, and frantically search the top of the wardrobe. Tears are pouring from my eyes. Not Lunick. Not Lunick.
    I pause, and look around. It’s then I notice the sound. A humming, pulsing sound. Is it the clock? I look at the clock. The wire has been severed in the struggle, and it shows the time of the incident. 2:10 am. 10 minutes is all it took for my normality to be devastated. 10 minutes is all it took for my family to be massacred. 10 minutes is how long one episode of my favourite TV program is. 10 minutes for my life to be over.

    * * * *

    I stagger to the window. Dawn is breaking on the horizon. Birds are beginning to sing. The world is starting again. My life is over.
    I look down, and don’t notice the source of the pulsing. Don’t notice the bizarre disturbance in the air directly below me. Don’t realise that if I jump, it won’t be over. Ignorance is bliss? I open the window as wide as I can. I can follow them. I can be with them, forever. I swing my legs over. I jump. Goodbye reality.