Luz Victoria B.

Simon Jasso
Sara Islas
Humanities - Sector 19
10/20/2015
The Family Basement
Mom said she would help me move into UCLA this summer. She said that she would
take me to the nearest Circle A and buy me a lifetime supply of Cup Noodles. Despite the fact
that I had little left of my Senior year, she was the one who supported me every step of the way.
I knew it was hard for her, being a single mom with two kids. My older brother Jonathan dropped
out of college a while back and has been getting a free ride at our house. I expected Mom to
have no tolerance for a twenty three year old guy lounging around, but she let him stay.
I was just as dedicated to my work as my mom was. I had a 4.6 GPA and aspired to be a
marine biologist.
But Mom was never able to help me move into my dorm or buy me Cup Noodles. Thats
because she mysteriously died before she could kick Jonathan out, and I felt no right doing it
myself. This was his home as much as it is mine. Jonathan decided to stay with me at the
house.
At first I was sure Jonathan was going to be supportive of me with Mom dying. I really
thought it would be easier to manage my school work with an adult in the house. Now Jonathan
is in the house three times a week at most, and Im in school less than that.
The last memory I have of mom, Jonathan, and I being happy together was when we
went to an ice cream shop. It was a hot day and Mom decided to spend it telling us stories of
her childhood. We all started to get emotional. Mom went on and on about how proud she was
of her Ava being a good student and Jonathan trying to find his path. That last part was just
so my brother wouldnt feel bad.
In the past, Jonathan and I got along well. Of course, we envied each other's qualities
but we rarely lashed out at one another. At least, he never did towards me. Jonathan always
had anger management issues. As he got older, they became less frequent but when they did
show, they would always catch mom by surprise.
Jonathan said she went hiking that morning, while I went to school and came back to an
empty home. She didnt return and he went out to look for her at her usual trail. He said he
couldn't find her, the police didnt find her, and then everyone just gave up. Even I did. The
house was cold, bitter, and unwelcoming. Then the people inside became just as lifeless.
The time was around four AM when the crashing started. I froze, not knowing whether to
hide or see what was happening. I thought I was home alone. Groggily, I grabbed my phone
from under my pillow and made my way down the stairs. The darkness absorbed my presence
as I took my first step into the kitchen. There he was. The first time I had seen Jonathan all
week. I sighed heavily in defeat and ignored his destructive ways, as I always did. But this time,
as I turned around, the crashing stopped. There was complete silence; one could hear a pin
drop.

Who the hell are you?! he screamed, waking up my anger.

Leave me alone, you drunken disappointment!
I regretted saying that, the first sentences I had said to him in over two weeks. Despite
his clumsiness, he made his way over to me. Before I could move, his knuckles met my cheek. I
fell on my knees and stayed still. He raised his leg to kick me, but I was able to scurry away
before he could reach me again.
I raced up the stairs, panting and holding the side of my face. I was fine, although I
tasted the bitterness of my own blood. I knew I couldn't stay here for the night, so I called one of
my closest friends and asked her if I could come over. She asked if she needed to call the cops
for me but I said no. The only thing I needed right now was peace.
It took me two days to get the courage to go home. He apologized but made it very
clear that I scared him and I shouldn't have been out of bed that late. I said nothing in return.
Just a smile and a nod. I thought to myself, I can't stay here much longer. College didnt feel like
an option anymore because I was way too behind for them to still be able to accept me. So I
decided to tell my brother that I was leaving.
The house was silent but I knew I could find him in the basement. He was always down
there. I didn't think much of it. The basement used to be moms work place, so I assumed he
went down there as a way to be with her. Jonathan told me to never go down there. He never
gave a reason and I just didn't bother arguing with him about it.
From my room, I hesitantly made my way down stairs. The living room was dim. Not
because we had a dimmer, but because it was dark outside and Jonathan loved candles. He
said the scent made the room feel lively. As far as Im concerned, the room was pretty dead
even if a candle was lit.
The door of the basement was left open, which is odd because it was almost always
shut. I peeked my head in and felt the bitter coldness rush to my face. My phone felt heavy in
my hand as I held it up to turn on the flashlight. It was then, that my neck got inexplicably cold.
And colder. I wanted to turn around but I was too scared to.
Blue, pale hands grasped my shoulder and I let out a small gasp. I didnt feel any more
reassured when Jonathan towered over me.
Ava, what do you think youre doing? Jonathan said, trying to hide his anger.
I just- I wanted to talk to you and I just thou-
You know the rules! Never go down there! How would you feel if I went into your room
whenever I felt like it? he yelled. I cowered but felt so much anger that I pushed him away from
me.
Its not like you go anywhere near me! I yelled back, inching closer to his face.
I can't handle you anymore! he said, and in efforts to push me down he knocked my
phone out of my hand. The sound of my phone falling down the stairs echoed until it stopped. I
looked at my feet in silence. By the time I looked up, he was gone.
I waited a few hours until I could go into the basement to get my phone back. He left
right after throwing a fit. It was around two AM when I faced the basement door again. The
house was silent. The only thing I could hear was my own breathing. My cold hands reached for

the frozen-like doorknob and turned it. A loud and echoing squeal escaped and I took a step
back. The door was wide open and a terrible smell came along with it.
The smell wrapped itself around my face like a mask and I couldn't ignore it. This smell
was not of a rotting sandwich from last summer. It was like a roadkill raccoon that was left to die.
I wanted to puke so badly. I gagged, but held my head up and raced down the stairs.
The stairs creaked from under me, letting out a loud shriek with every step I took. I
stumbled until I reached the bottom. My phone was nowhere in sight. I felt a light touch on my
forehead that made me flinch and duck. Above me was an old light bulb, swinging from a single
wire, one puff away from shattering on my head. I reached up and pulled down the string.
The light flickered for a few seconds, then turned on. My eyes adjusted to the light but
when they did, I wanted it to go back to darkness. All around me were knives of different kinds.
There were blood stains next to a desk filled with pictures of my family and notes. The
basement reeked of something I couldnt quite identify. Rotting flesh? In the center of the room,
there was a huge desk with straps where different limbs would be tied down. I had no idea as to
what I just walked into. My hands shook when I accidently took a hurried step to my right and
felt cloth on my ankles.
Next to me were huge bags, big enough to fit a person. I gagged and jumped back. The
smell was coming from the bag. My mind told me to run upstairs, forget the phone, and drive as
far away as possible but my body reacted differently. My hands were reaching for the bag. My
hand trembled as I gripped the zipper and pulled it towards me.
The first thing I saw was blood, lots of it, leaking out from under the bag. Then I saw a
face, not of an animal, but of a human. The eyes were still open and were sliced in half, almost
hanging out of her face. I could tell it was a woman because of the long missing splotches of
hair attached to her skull resting on the pool of blood. Her bright blouse was torn in parts where
there were slices in her skin. At the angle I was looking at her face, she didn't seem that torn up.
That is, until I moved her slightly to the side and could see her other half. Her face was
completely torn to shreds. Pieces of her cheeks and lips were missing and I mostly saw bone.
I fell on my back and crawled away in disgust. From that moment, I knew that woman
was no stranger. I have looked at my mother enough times to know that the lady torn to shreds
in the body bag was her. My eyes watered as I grabbed the railing of the stairs and pulled
myself up with the very little strength I had left. Before my foot could reach the first step to the
stairs, I heard creaking.
This sound was not my own, this one was a thousand times louder, sending waves of
panic through my body, my instincts telling me to run as fast as I could. I held my breath and
took steps back, trying to hide myself in the darkness. The creaking went on and got louder
until I saw a figure standing in front of me. Dead silence.
Ava, I am afraid that you have crossed the line. the voice said, echoing in my head like
an empty hallway.