He isn't scary

He isn't scary. Even while his unsolid dripping hands rake through my hair. His cold breath touches my skin, making it moist and fragile. I'm slowly passing out because I've been holding my breath for almost two minutes. If I breath in though, he'll take me away. I learned this the hard way. He's getting angry that I haven't breathed. I close my eyes as he runs around my room unleashing the nightmares I had once though haunted the shadows. I know now that he's the only. He lets out a banchee's scream and I claw my bed so I don't forget not to wet myself. He isn't scary. He hops before and shows my sister's dying form before me. Her head turns to the side. Her head stands still. Her body turns again. Her head stil faces me. She turns again. Her head lies on my breasts. I cry inside where he can't hear me. He starts conjuring up my brother, then father, the my little niece. I close my eyes and he makes them scream. He isn't scary. The windows shatter behind my head. I covered in glass. My lunges are shouting and I'm losing focus. I almost laugh but don't , that's what he was expecting. I stick my tounge out as I fall unconcious. The last thing I hear is his shriek of anger. He isn't scary 1

My mother walks slowly into the kitchen. Her eyes so tired they seem dead.2

"You get a visit from grandpa last night too?" 3

"Family reunion."