By the time I returned home, my surroundings were pitch black, except for the lights glowing from the front door and windows. I reached for the front doorknob, but pulled my hand back, realizing that I couldn't just walk in with bloodstained clothes in front of my parents.
I went around to the back instead and quietly opened and shut the door. As I snuck towards the kitchen exit, I could hear my mom's worried voice and my dad attempting to comfort her.
"Where is he?" Mom wondered anxiously.
"Don't worry honey," Dad reassured. "The police will find him."
As my parents embraced each other, I quietly climbed up the stairs and entered my room.
Quietly shutting the door, I took my blood-covered clothes off and dug around in my drawers for a fresh new set.
I had just finished changing and sneaking back downstairs towards the back door, when the kitchen lights came on.
"Dallas?" my mom asked, surprised.
I quickly turned around. "Mom!"
"Dallas! Where have you been!" Mom ran over and hugged me tightly in her arms. "I was so worried!!"
"Honey?" Dad called out. "What are you-" He paused upon seeing me. "Dallas!"He ran over and hugged me and Mom. "Where were you? We were worried sick!"
"I've…I've done something really horrible," I confessed.
"What?" Mom asked.
"Clarence and his friends…," I began, "...Kidnapped me and threw me into a pit. They were about to beat me…so I…" I stopped, not wanting to describe the horrible things I'd done to them. "I killed them in self defense, and then…I…" I faltered, not wanting to continue anymore.
But somehow, I finished my sentence.
"I ate them…"
"Dallas…" Mom let go and looked at me in the eyes, frightened.
"I've been keeping a horrible secret hidden from you," I revealed. "I've been having cannibalistic urges, and then I lose control of myself. When I come to, I've found myself next to deer and wolves and animals and stuff. I killed them, while I was in some kind of trance. I don't know what causes it."
"Dallas, what are you talking about?" Dad asked me.
"My clothes." I walked towards the kitchen exit. "I changed out of bloodstained clothes."
My parents followed me upstairs. I took out my blood-stained clothes from my hamper and presented them to my parents.
Mom looked like she was about to faint, while Dad held her tightly, keeping his composure. "Dallas…" he muttered. He walked out of the room and went downstairs.
I followed him. "Are you going to call the police?" I asked him.
"I think it would be the best thing to do." He picked up his cell phone and dialed in the emergency number.
"Hold on, I don't think this is a good idea," I said. "What if everyone finds out about what I am and what I can do? I'd never see you and Mom again!"
Dad set down the phone, recognizing the truth to my words. "Okay then," he said. "Let's just keep quiet about this, and hope nothing happens."
I sighed, relieved that I had narrowly just dodged a bullet. I rushed back upstairs, and began to pack my things into my backpack.
"Dallas?" Mom asked. "What are you doing?"
"I need to get out of here." I slung the backpack straps onto my shoulders. "Before I hurt anyone else."
"Sweetie, it's okay!" Mom tried to reassure me. "We'll just keep you home for a few weeks until this blows over."
"No! No, it's not okay!" I vehemently countered. "You and Dad have absolutely no idea what it's like. And that's why…" I ran out the bedroom and out the front door.
"Dallas?" Dad called out.
"Come back!" Mom yelled.
By then, their voices were too distant for me to hear. I just kept running, running, running as fast as I could into the dark woods.
Eventually, I grew exhausted and slowed down, stopping to rest on a gnarly tree trunk.
I sat down and opened my backpack, took out a blanket, and wrapped myself snugly with it.
Before I closed my eyes, I looked back in the direction I ran from and thought, Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. But I'm doing this because I love you.