Crying Wolf
an excerpt

Again something in the pit of my stomach told me that something was wrong, so I continued my tour of the house. I headed for my parent's bedroom, which was the first on the left in the hallway at the top of the stairs. Mine was at the end on the other side of the guest room and bathroom. I knocked on the door even though it was barely cracked, just in case she or my father were indecent. When I got no response, I assumed maybe they were asleep. Maybe my mom had gotten a migraine. “Mom, if you need me to--”
I stopped mid sentence, horror crossing my face as I looked on the bed. There my mother lay in her work clothing. Her auburn hair a mess about her head, and a pool of blood soaking the cream colored blanket beneath her. I hadn't heard her come home, and she must have muted the television when she left the room. It was a habit of hers to, so it really wasn't odd.
I flew to the side of the bed, and checked her body for a pulse. My eyes widened more when there was none. “Mom?! MOM?!?” I yelled, desperate for the scene before my eyes to not be true. Sure I resented the things my mom had done, but she had done them out of love. Or so I told myself as I turned her over.
The source of the blood had been a laceration to her side, and on her neck under the chin. Someone had slit her throat. That would explain why I didn't hear her call out when she came home like she always did. Scared now for my own life, and shaking from that fear, I reached for the phone. I needed to call for help, it didn't matter if they believed I was innocent. All that mattered was getting help so maybe, just maybe, she'd survive.
I pulled the receiver to my ear, and gasped through my tears, as the realization hit me. “No, no, no!” I dropped the receiver and bolted for the kitchen, I was now covered in my mother's blood, and desperate. I pulled the receiver to the kitchen phone off the base on the wall. Like the one in the bedroom, I was greeted by silence.