Halfway through the summer vacations Betty lay in bed, fluffy blankets gently caressing her feet. Unicorns gracefully flying in her head. Hastily, she shot straight up. Locating the agitated banging she half consciously descended the staircase and opened the front door.Silence fell. 

  Betty navigated through her memory, looking for the lady confronting her. Hair dripping sweat on her matted sleeveless top, down to her tattered shirts. Scars dominated the area on her hands and legs as if she had escaped from the woods.

Crimson drops stained her white muddy sneakers.She needed assistance. “Umm,  I am Lucy, this man is after me and...and he has a gun.” she yearned,catching her breath, innocence glimmering in her eyes Betty's herat permitted the lady an entrance. Her family had woken up and they inquired their visitor about her stalker. Lucy informed them that he was a psychotic serial killer. 

  Down the street hiding behind the bushes was a man peering intently in the direction of its prey. His usual introduction was by the name of Mark.in his hand, glistened his silver fully loaded gun. Mark had bathed in the scarlet river that flowed out of many people who fortunately owned unfortunate fates and fell victim to his open gunfire in the vast emptiness of a forest. This lady had been the most challenging of all his prey. Her slimness and agility disgusted him.

  Entrance into the house was bad news. Mark knew he should spread terror like the devil he was “ dad.. who's that man with black and red spikes ..what is he doing  sitting like that?” exclaimed a young, languid and lame girl from her car, struggling to exit her Mercedes, crutches thrusting  her armpits. Fuming at being exposed, Mark decided it was time. It was time to spread terror. He raised his weapon. One bullet banged at the metal. His two witnesses, from a distance, spun around. Immediately their eyeballs steered in the way of that suspicious man, who had vanished.the two sensed danger.  Mark had risen up and started closing the distance between him and his prey. He had already wasted a bullet on two security cameras. 

  Chaos, utter chaos surrounded Betty's house. They all had heard the gunshot and could feel the presence of a threat. Everyone scattered around panicked, heart pounding, and then instantaneously,another gunshot blew. The door lock was demolished. Mark barged in. He faced emptiness and silence, but could smell his irritating prey's blood that also emitted from his clothes.Stationary, under the couch, Lucy dared not breathe. Silenced, behind the fridge, Betty observed the intruder through the reflection in the tiles. Mark knew bombarding gunshots would bring all the hiding ants at his feet and this veil of emptiness would fall. He opened gunfire. Deafening noises blared in Bettys ears as the thought of the only one being completely safe, haunted her. She thanked people for making metal fridges, but despised the thought of losing her family to a serial killer. They only had wood protection.

 Betty saw a trail of maroon splattering the tiles and immediately knew a bullet raced through one of her family members' bodies while she stayed there under complete protection. Suddenly, she witnessed a movement. A whimpering plea travelled to Mark's ears, he recognized it. Gun raised,he zoomed in on the couch. Stealth as a fox, he eyed the woman underneath. Instinctively Betty held a knife and aimed it at the oppressor. She became a dragon, streams of fury puddling in her eyes as she let go her only source of revenge. The knife crashed through stilled air, reaching its target. Lucy faced death under the sofa and had stopped breathing, she knew this was the end.Then she took a sigh of relief. The gun dropped. Betty had dislocated his shoulder. The death threat hollered, whining uncontrollably like a baby, acting psychotic.

 Outside sirens blared. Concerned neighbours had informed the police and Betty's brother called an ambulance. The police barged in and yanked the pretending murderer, who had been opnely challenging them on every news channel. With swelling eyelids, Betty sat, a stream of grief and guilt gushing  down her cheeks. In the ambulance ,her father lay motionless on a stretcher.