The sound of his pale, white feet smacking across the pavement was the only noise in the eerily silent neighborhood. He had to get away. His legs burned and ached, but he couldn't stop. Jake could feel his father's glare burning into his back, following his every move.

And his mother's eyes…

"God," he whispered between heavy breaths, the pain of his words causing tears to well-up in his eyes. The image of his mother's empty gaze couldn't be wished away. Her eyes, the same brilliant shade of green that she had passed to her son, turned pale. Those eyes, that had become void of any sort of emotion.

Jake's thoughts stopped when his feet did. Looking at the mailbox, he realized he was at 173 Madeline Boulevard.

"I'm already here?" he thought. It usually took him ten minutes to arrive at Matt's house by foot, six if he ran. But it only felt like seconds had passed since leaving his own house, a minute at the most. How long had it actually been? How fast had he been running?

There was no time to think of such things. Jake nearly collapsed from the relief of seeing the familiar site, but he couldn't stop now. He carried himself to the door, ignoring the crushing pain in his right side. They boy raised his hand, slamming the side of his small fist against the door again and again as if he was trying to break it down. He didn't care if it was well after eleven at night. He didn't care if the whole neighborhood heard him. He had to get inside the house. He'd be safe if he could do that much. Even after hearing a faint voice saying, "I'm coming, hold on," from the other side of the entrance, he couldn't stop. Jake was so close, he couldn't stop now.

The door clicked, a pretty woman revealing herself. Her naturally light blonde hair was lightly messed up from the few hours of sleep she had already gotten.
"Jake?" the woman said, her eyes half open.

"I…" the boy's voice squeaked. The tears he had tried so hard to hold back came rushing out all at once. The woman rubbed her eyes and looked at the boy more carefully. This time, she noticed the blood seeping through the right side of the boy's dark blue shirt.

"Jake? What happened?!" her once groggy voice perked up instantly. But Jake didn't hear her. He pushed passed the woman and bolted up the stairs. Flinging open the first door on the left, the boy hurried inside the darkened room and slammed the entrance behind him.

On the other side, the boy slumped to the ground, pushing his dirty blonde hair out of his face. Due to the sweat and tears, the follicles stuck to his cheeks. His breath violently raced in and out of his lungs, making it feel as if his chest was about to explode. But that didn't matter.

He had made it. Finally, he could stop running.

Jake's vibrant jade eyes aimed themselves forward. There, on the bed, was an unmoving lump covered by blankets. The lump went by the name of Matt. The blonde stared at the sleeping boy, unsure of what to say. Would it be alright to wake him, or should he just wait until morning?

Before he could come to a decision, the mass of covers moved, answering the question for him.

"Jake?" a low, drowsy voice emerged from the bed, "what the hell are you doing here?"

Jake froze. "You... you're up?"

"No, I just slept through my mom screaming downstairs and you slamming my door." Matt rolled his icy blue eyes and sat up, turning on the simple cream-colored lamp that was placed on his side-table. Unlike his mother, it only took Matt a second to see the blood and tears that covered his friend.

"What happened to you?!" Matt jumped out of bed, rushing to Jake's side.

Jake lowered his head, his bangs hiding his face. "It's…" he stopped. He couldn't say "It's nothing" like he usually would. He didn't have the energy to lie. Not tonight.

"It's what?" Matt urged his friend. The silence was making him worry more than the blood that was now seeping onto the floor.

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't summon his voice. The salty drops rained down from his eyes, dripping down his face and off of his cheeks. "She…" he managed to choke out. His breathing was too unsteady to form whole sentences.

"She?" Matt didn't need too many words from Jake to know what he meant. They had known each other their whole lives. "You mean your mom? What about her?"

The blonde boy took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself down. "She… wasn't…" but again, his breath jumped out of his control.

"She wasn't what?" the boy put his hand on Jake's shoulder, trying to assist in Jake's attempt to speak. "It's okay. You can tell me. She wasn't what?" He gave a light smile, the corners of his pale lips brushing against his mid-length black hair.

"Blinking," Jake finally said.

Matt tilted his head to the side a bit, not sure how to take the statement. "Huh? Like, she was staring at you?"

But Matt's question went unheard. Jake shoved his hands into his hair, yanking at the follicles tightly. "She wouldn't blink. She just kept looking at me, like it was my fault. She blames me. It's all my fault. It's all my fault…" Jake kept repeating himself, beginning to rock back and forth to the chant's rhythm.

Matt shook the other boy a little, trying to get his friend to regain his senses. "What's your fault, Jake? What happened?"

Again, the raven-haired boy's inquiries weren't acknowledged. But Jake's chant changed. "Blood, so much blood."

"Yeah, I know Jake. You're bleeding. A lot. So we need to get you to a hospital."

The blonde shook his head. "Not my blood."
Matt paused for a second, his eyes widening a little more as each word sunk in. "Wait. Who's blood? Jake, who was bleeding?" He shook his friend a little harder this time, hoping the answer would fall out.

"My mom," Jake choked out, "she wouldn't blink."