I woke up the next morning, buzzing with worry and excitement and curiosity. What was on that tape? Was it important?

Sadly, it was school again. Mum had been fuming when I told her I had a three hour detention yesterday for what I did, but seeing as I was in a difficult situation, she didn't spend too long giving me a telling off and a lecture.

Slowly, I trudged downstairs with my uniform on and my hair brushed, and went straight to the kitchen. I was never hungry in the mornings, and after the school trip, I was less so. Usually I'd just nibble on a piece of fruit or toast and then tell Mum I was finished – she let me off all the time.

"Mum, I'm ready," I said after having a few bites of apple.

"Okay, wait by the car and I'll be out in a sec," she replied. I did as she told and went to wait by the car. It was a chilly morning, and there was a frost on the windscreen, but Mum would probably wipe that off soon. Eventually she came out with a piece of cloth. I knew it!

"Let me just clean off the frost quickly."

"Take all the time you need," I muttered, wanting to waste all possible time to not be in that hell hole.

"Wouldn't want you to be late," she said cheerily.

"I want to be late!"

"Why?"

"I hate it there!"

"When you make friends you'll enjoy it more."

"No I won't! Are you this ignorant? All the girls there are sluts, with short skirts and fags coming from their mouths."

"Emma!"

"No, I don't want to go. I don't fit in at all and I never will."

"There must be one good girl there?" She asked uncertainly.

"Nope, not one."

There was a long silence as she scrubbed off the frost, more aggressively this time. I tapped my foot impatiently, feeling fed up again. Why won't she understand?

"If you want to waste your fucking life in your room, being pathetic and non-social, then so be it. When you're older, you can regret it as much as you like because I won't care. Sure, 'Leather Face' has affected you but hasn't it worn off yet?!"

I stood still in shock, my jaw dropping. I'd never heard Mum swear, atleast in front of me, and she never made fun of me for being depressed about Leather Face. Why now? Why now, when I needed her most?

"Emma, I'm sorry." She sighed, rubbing her temples slowly. "I've been so stressed recently."

"Yeah, 'cause of me," I replied sadly. My head hung slightly, afraid of my eyes meeting hers and things being awkward.

"No, not because of you. Because of what happened to you. I worry so much, and sometimes you... You seem to take advantage of that."

"Mum, I'm sorry-"

"Ok, ok, I understand. You can have this one day off. I know how difficult it must be; you just came back from a school trip and yet I expect you to start a new school? It's going to be hard, so I'm allowing you to have this one day to relax and get your mind round things. But tomorrow, you're going back – no questions asked. Y'hear me?"

I nodded mournfully. Despite the fact I wanted to stay at home, when I actually got my way it made me feel... Guilty? Embarrassed? ... Or maybe even both?

With a confused head, I rushed back inside to avoid any more awkwardness and went straight to my bedroom. I glanced at my cupboard, already being able to picture the video tape recorder in my head as I removed my thick coat. Specks of frost scattered across my fluffy rug as I hung up the jacket on a peg and locked my bedroom door.

Then I unlocked it again.

Once I realised I actually needed a TV to watch the tape, everything seemed to fall apart. You would've thought that's the first thing you think of, right? Wrong. All I had my eyes on was the recorder, as if that was all I needed to solve the puzzle.

A puzzle isn't a puzzle if there's only piece. Or two pieces, for that matter. Why? Because that's too easy to solve. Puzzles are meant to be things that get you thinking, that are hard.

And there were only two pieces to my puzzle – get the video tape recorder and T.V. There's only one piece left, shouldn't it be easy? Why was this so hard? Or maybe it wasn't hard at all...

My brother.

He had a T.V in his room, a very small one with very few wires. Plus, he would be at school by now. I never talked to him much anymore as... Everything was just different. I was different, he was different, the situation was different. Even if we became close again, it wouldn't be the same. There would be awkward silences, he would probably say something coincidentally related to my traumatic past.

Different...

Shaking my head at the thoughts, I treaded quietly to my brother's room. It was a mess as usual, and hard to wade through, so as soon as I reached the T.V I started unplugging all the wires.

Ha, as if I thought this'd be easy.

To make it worse, the T.V was much heavier than I expected and it took longer to get out of the bedroom. Every step lasted what seemed like an hour, and my temper was decreasing rapidly.

Come on, Emma.

Did I even want to watch the tape that much? If it was coming from Leather Face, it couldn't be anything good. It would terrify me, make me lose sleep and all for what? A tape which would scar me for life?

Dismissing my thoughts for the second time, I exited the pig sty and carried the heavy object to my room. Once I gently put it on the floor, I locked the door again and began the next task: plugging all the wires in.

All I will say is – unplugging is much easier than plugging in.

The wires all appeared the same and were in a giant tangle. Untangling took ages, continued by an extra year of figuring out which plug went in which socket. At one point, Mum knocked on the door, asking if I wanted a snack. In a rush I replied with, "No thanks, maybe later" and she seemed to leave. Seemed to leave. I couldn't hear when she came and went.

Eventually, everything was wired up – including the video tape recorder. Now all I had to do was turn on the T.V and slot in the tape.

Deep breaths, Emma.

I took slow and steady breaths.

Tell him who's boss.

"I'm the boss around here," I said aloud. As if Leather Face could hear.

Put in the tape.

With shaky hands, I pressed the tape into the recorder.

Switch on the T.V.

Slowly, I turned on the switch and the screen shone to life.

Now press play.

On the video tape recorder, I pressed play.

And everything slipped into place.

~

Pristine walls. White. Blinding.

Crystal clean bed. Hard. No covers.

Man leering over bed. Mask. Weapon.

Girl on bed. Wide-eyed. Still.

Deep red. Everywhere. Like an ocean of death and hell. Like a sea of horror and pain. Like agony. Like blood.

Blades covering the floor. The silver tips smothered in red. The man has boots on, thick, very thick, to be able to walk on the blades without pain. The girl has barefeet, and only a white cover protecting her body.

A chainsaw. In his hands. Spinning and spinning like lightning. Red stains dried on the blade. Sharp tips, like the ones on the floor. That's what I see.

A warm substance trickles down the sides of my face. I touch my ear and a puddle of blood appears on my fingertips afterwards. My ears are bleeding. Probably because of how loud her screams are. Pained, agonised, unknowing. Screaming and screaming, ripping her throat apart. Tears pouring fast from her bloodshot eyes.

The blade slowly resting on her delicate skin. Tearing open her skin and revealing the red seeping onto the blades on the floor. Creating pools of blood, painting the man's shoes in a rich red.

Now a different patch of skin. Rip. Tear. Rip. Tear. Shred. Blood pouring, screams increasing. A different patch. And a different patch. Till her whole and entire body is lying on the bed with no life left in it. Blood, drenching the man and shooting the walls. Only her head is left untouched. The tape zooms in, and I get a look of the mutilated body. I hold back vomit.

Without needing to look, I knew who the man was. It took me longer to realise who the girl was.

Me.