The key they’d given me still fit the lock, but the house no longer felt like home. The wind was quiet as I sat in the rocker, watching the clock go tick tock, tick tock, until it was finally eight fifty five. It was time to leave for the very last time. To leave the house of invisible ghosts. Ghosts that haunted me every night when the moon was out with a soft glow, but the owl was hooting like no other. Something was off, and I didn’t know what, until that night when Mike disappeared.

The sheets were pulled down and his pillow was flat, his shoes and keys were gone from the stand. But his car was still there in the driveway, parked just where he always did… to the left in front of the house. I couldn’t see anything off, but his wallet was missing from its usual place. Where would he go and not drive off without a note or text that said “Hey, I’ll be back”. Instead, it felt like the house was now cold, even with heat in the middle of Christmas.

I looked out the window as a shadow appeared. Along the wall was a long slender something as I turned to look, my head snapped quickly with fear in my soul. A hint of something I just didn’t like. But then in a second, the shadow was gone as the long window curtains swayed on the floor and the room was earie as the owl just watched.

Watching and waiting for something it knew.

I crossed my arms and turned to leave, when the kitchen door slammed shut at once. I could hear the window make a crack. Whoever it was was someone not welcome as I picked up my pace and ran down the stairs, my hair flowing back as I picked up my feet. Swift and silent on the steps with carpet. My grandmother hated the old wooden steps, making my grandfather put plush red carpet down once he retired.

As I came to the bottom and turned on the light, there stood Mike with a knife in his hand and blood on his shirt. His eyes were dark with circles underneath and dirt on his pants that looked to be fresh. My body froze stiff as we stood and stared, his mouth then opened and said “You’re dead”

I didn’t respond as he started to walk, straight towards me with the knife pointing forward as I scanned for my phone to be nowhere in sight. I needed to call or else I was dead. The only other option were maybe the scissors stashed in the drawer. There were so many things Mike didn’t know, and my defense was one I told not a soul.

I stepped to the left and out of his path as he started to fumble, but caught himself on the edge of the table. His eyes then squinted as his one arm kept him from falling to the floor. I could smell the booze coming out of his pores, his beard all tangled from god knows what.

It was then I knew what had to be done. I would never let him touch me again. The man was a monster that had to be done. A monster who killed my only soul. My soul that knew better than any man thought he did. This woman of twenty was ready to strike.

He tried to stand up, but fell to the floor. Slowly I took my left hand shaking, opened the drawer as I kept my eyes on the monster I knew. The monster who thought he could rape my soul.

My hand kept moving the junk drawer items, clanking with noise that nobody heard, not even our baby asleep in her bed. It was now or never, and we had to escape.

A grin on his face then appeared as a smirk came across his face. “You ain’t that smart, Zane “ he said as he fell to the floor and passed out cold. It was then I knew we would never grow old as I took the knife and slit his throat.

“Neither are you, you son of a bitch”