Flash Fiction: A Promise

Jihaan Jullanaar Mazaya/180410150039

“I’m home”

Quiet. No one answers my greeting every time I’ve arrived at home. Perhaps Dad is still working at his office. No, not just working. I don’t even know what he is doing. He is a grumpy workaholic man, so my mom decided to leave him. Dad has no time for family, he just concerns to his own pleasure.

BRAK!

BRAK!

BRAK!

“Zy! Open the door! Hurry up!”

I always woke up overnight by this sucks shout and bang he made. He must be drank too much.

“Can you make it a little faster? I said FASTEEER!”

“Could you please be patient a moment? It is overnight, Dad. You’re disturbing the neighbour”

“Darn you! I’ve sacrificed a lot for you! I’ve been working hard morning and evening just for you! What’s the difference between you and your mom? You both are double trouble!”

I used to being scolded by him. See? It’s a routine when he’s at home.

My emotions tonight made me hard to sleep. I will make a cup of milk. My mom used to make me a cup of milk when I can’t sleep well. I remember before she left the house, she promised me that someday she would come back to pick me up, but a moment later she was hit by a car then passed away at that very moment. I know right, she will never come home again. Ugh, I miss you so bad, Mom.

I’m drinking a cup of milk while seeing the timeline of LuNE. Dad just changed his profile picture to a bloody knife. I think Dad’s sleeping. Yeah, although I am still mad because of what he said, but actually I miss having quality time with him. However, he is still my father.

I walk to the living room craving for the comfortable sofa. But wait, isn’t it dad’s phone? If his phone is in here, how can he change his profile picture? I look straight to dad’s room. The door’s opened slightly as usual. I walk to the door, try to pick by door crack, and I see dad’s sleeping on his chest.

I want to close the door but then I see a drop red liquid on the doorknob. I immediately open the door in panic then I found dad’s bleeding on his back. I have not had time to cry and then suddenly,

“Zy, my dear…”

I directly turn around then see a pale woman wears bloody white long dress.

“Mom? B…but why?”

“I’ve promised you someday I will come back here to pick you up, a promise is a promise”

“But you’ve passed away!”

But she just smiles a little. She walks slowly toward me. I am caught by her sharp eyes. My body can’t move at all until her left cold hand grips my right wrist. Her right hand picks up the same knife as dad’s profile picture. She grins at me widely.

“It is your turn, Darling.”

Words count: 494

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