The heart of Annie-horror

THE CURSE OF THE DEAD HEART

The thudding of Annie’s heart quickened as she heard footsteps come closer. The bedroom door was closed and locked but the intruder smashed it open with an old blunt axe. Annie scrambled underneath the bed and lay there breathing heavily as the man walked in. Suddenly, he crouched down and pulled Annie out from under the bed. He sneered at the young girl who was crying and twisting, trying to get away from his grasp. He lifted the axe and brought it down hard on Annie’s head. He ran from the room laughing hysterically leaving the girl bleeding on the wooden floor of her bedroom. That was where her mother found her that evening after coming home from work. She lifted the body of her dead child and cradled her in her arms sobbing, crying out in anger. Annie’s school clothes were drenched in blood, a new shade of red. When her mother got up to call the police she noticed a cell phone. She picked it up and examined it. It looked just like her ex-husband’s. She turned it on and checked the sent items. The first one there was a message, pleading someone to come back to him. She recognized it as the one she had gotten from him. She gasped, dropping the phone into the pool of red blood that was crawling around the room and painting the floor with a juicy red. The mother, that night, cried herself to sleep. Her precious daughter was gone because that loathsome husband of hers had wanted her back. In her hand lay a small red box decorated with pictures of daisies. The police had been kind enough to let her keep the heart of her beloved daughter. The next morning after the mother had gone to work the red box that was decorated with daisies started beating. The heart was alive. Over in Mexico the man who had killed Annie toppled over and was crushed by a car while crossing a road. At four o’clock when the mother came home, the heart made a final effort and thudded for the last time. Ten years later after been hidden away so as not to bring further sorrow to the mother, the heart started beating again. There was a rumble from the graveyard and a small body crept out and started walking towards the house where the mother of Annie was sleeping quietly. It managed to open the door and crept up the stairs. It picked up the heart and swallowed it. The mother woke to find a figure that looked like her daughter in front of her.
“Annie?” she said groggily, “ It’s me, mommy, Hera? Do you remember me?”
“Mum?” squeaked Annie.
Hera reached out to hug her daughter, then suddenly a big gust of wind blew the girl away. Hera stared after her. The next thing she new she was opening her eyes. She found the red daisy box fallen off the table. Hera dressed and went to work. That day she went home early to find the front door smashed open. She ran in and searched the house. When she got to Annie’s room she found a man holding a big axe above his head, aiming it at the scared Annie who was crying. Hera lifted her handbag and crashed it down on his head. He dropped the axe and ran out the room and down the stairs. Annie ran to Hera, who picked her up and cradled Annie in her arms. The next day Hera came home early enough so that she was home before Annie. Annie never died at the age of eight. She died nobly at the age 87, 23 years after her mom died.

And they all lived frightfully ever after.