The Girl with the Knife 🗡️ 8

Part Eight — Amy The door stood open. Her mother was frozen on the porch. Neither of them moved. Then Amy stepped into the doorway. She wasn't smiling anymore. “Come inside,” she whispered. Her mother grabbed her daughter's hand. “Don't listen to her.” Amy looked at the older girl. “Do you know why she was afraid of you?” She shook her head. Amy's eyes filled with tears. “Because she knew what she did.” “What did I do?” Amy looked at their mother. “Tell her.” Their mother began to cry. “I made a mistake.” Amy laughed bitterly. “A mistake?” She pointed at the girl. “You brought me here because you wanted to save her.” The girl stared at her mother. “Save me from what?” Her mother whispered: “Death.” The world seemed to go silent. “You were dying,” she continued. “The doctors couldn't explain it. You were getting weaker every day.” She looked at Amy. “The woman promised me another child could take your place.” The girl's stomach twisted. “What does that mean?” Amy answered. “She gave me your death.” Her mother shook her head. “I didn't know!” “You knew enough.” Amy stepped closer. “You brought me into this house. You gave me your daughter's illness. You wanted me to die instead of her.” The girl stared at her own hands. “So... I survived because you—” “No,” Amy interrupted. “You survived because I chose to save you.” The girl looked up. Amy's expression softened. “When you were little, you couldn't breathe. You were dying.” She pointed at herself. “So I took it.” “What did you take?” Amy smiled sadly. “Everything that was supposed to kill you.” The girl couldn't speak. Then Amy whispered: “But when I died, you forgot me.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “And that was the part I couldn't forgive.” The girl stepped forward. “So you're here to kill me?” Amy shook her head. “No.” She looked toward their mother. “I'm here to give you back what belongs to me.” Suddenly, the silver pendant around the girl's neck became ice-cold. She grabbed it. The pendant began glowing faintly. Her mother screamed. “Take it off!” But it was already too late. The girl's vision blurred. She saw the kitchen. The knife. The blood. The little girl. And finally— herself. She wasn't holding the knife. Amy was. Then she heard Amy whisper: “Now you remember who killed whom.” And the girl collapsed. When she opened her eyes again... she was standing in the kitchen. Seventeen years earlier. And across the room stood two little girls. One was Amy. The other was herself. Both were holding knives. Both were smiling. And behind them, their mother was screaming:“RUN!” Part 9..........

Other insights from Soulscribe

Contributor Points

Points-to-Coupons

Referral Earning