Speak

The knife slid across her throat as black-red blood oozed down her chest. Her white blouse was drenched and stained with the hot sticky liquid in seconds. "Shhhh..." a voice whispered behind me. A clammy hand clamped over my mouth and pressed tightly. "Don't move." It was a man's voice. He held me in place as I watched my mother slowly bleed out. The masked figure holding her hair pulled her head back. Blood spewed from the gaping hole in her neck. A wave of nausea swept over me. The man's hot breath gushed into my ear once more as he said "Let's go."
I was lead backwards, through the staircase in the back of the pantry. He pushed me down the steps first. "Where are you taking me?" I asked. "Out." he answered. "Who are you?" my voice shook. I was sobbing. "It doesn't matter. Now run." I was pushed barefoot into the wet grass.