5'2 inches

[ATTENTION, THIS IS NOT MY STORY ITS AND ANIMATED STORY FROM YOUTUBE< THAT I DECIDED TO PUT INTO WRITTEN FORM. THAT BEING SAID,ENJOY.]

I sat on the couch next to my crying mother, a tissue in her trembling hand. tears streamed down her cheeks and behind her white sweater, and she stared at the Television.

Another murder.

Recently in our once peaceful town, a serial killer had been on the loose. Police knew it was the same person because each victim was a girl my age, exactly 5'2 inches tall. The most recent victim was a blonde girl named Samantha Westbrook. images of her stepfather sobbing flipped across the screen.

"Police say they have still not found Helen crisp, but assure they are trying their best. the killer is most likely a pervert obsessed with teen girls 5'2 inches for an unknown reason. Parents, keep your young girls outside movement limited, especially in the case they are this height. if you happen to know who the killer may be, dial this number."

"Sweetheart.." my mom said shakily. "from now on you go nowhere except school and back unless i am with you, understand?" i nodded my head, strands of hair in my face.

"i guess i should go now." i told my mother, stroking her face. "ill be okay, i promise, i'll text you as soon as i get to school."

mom nodded and kissed me on the cheek.

"i love you, sweetheart." she sighed.

"i love you too." i smiled, and started toward the door.

one day me and my friend, Brianna were on our way home from school. we took the paths we did everyday, and gossiped about some girls in our grade. i looked at Brianna and her long brown hair and her pink backpack. her white shoes, her makeup that she really did not need, and everything else about her. she was the most alive person i knew. and i prayed that nothing could ever change that.

suddenly, as we walked past the same woods we passed everyday, we saw police cars, and large ambulances, and a big hole in the ground. police pushed covered bodies on stretchers out, and pulled bones and other terrible things out of the ground.

something was buried.

"is that...?" one cop began. "skin...?"

the others stared for a moment, some gagged, turned away, or just stayed silent.

skin.

"L-lets get out of here.." Brianna said quietly, and we ran out of the scene.

we later found out that it was Helen crisp, now the 9th victim of this awful killer. The police suspected that the killer was a butcher in town, Jerry smith, but was later proved wrong because they had no evidence.

about a month later, the killings slowed down. things were normal, we were still cautious, but weren't turning around every time we walked down the street, sleepovers began to happen and kids could play in the woods.

One afternoon, on my walk home from school, A woman, about my mom's age ran out of her house and walked up to me. her voice was in a pant from the running.

"H..Hello, Baylee. i'm.. V... Vanessa b-baker.. i.. i know your mother." she said with a smile.

I Did not know who she was, but i still wanted to be nice.

"oh... hello Vanessa." i said warmly.

"would you like to hang out in my home with my daughter, Chris?" she asked, pointing to a girl in the upstairs window. i could not see her face, it being covered by a hat.

"she is a bit lonely, she's 5'2 inches, and even though the killings are not happening as often i'm still cautious so.. she has not been outside in probably a month. she watches you every afternoon walk home from school and finally asked me if you two could have a play date. i checked with your mother, and shes said it's okay, but i wanted to know what you think."

'of course!" i beamed. "i'll make sure she's so bored!"

Vanessa beamed. "well you just head upstairs and i'll make you two a pie!"

i walked inside, up the stairs, into Chris's room. the room was dull, a mirror, a wardrobe, and a bed. but clean and nice.

"hey, Chris!" i said, excitedly. " 'I'm Baylee! wanna hang out?"

Chris lifted her head. she wore a black gown and a bucket hat, kinda like the stuff you wear to funerals.

"sure" she said quietly, but i could hear the joy in her voice.

"you two have fun, now!" Vanessa laughed, closing the door.

i sat down on Chris's bed. "so.. what do you wanna do?" i smiled.

"Baylee.." she began, in a sad voice, "does the outside world... scare you?"

"i'm scared for sure," i said, "but I'm 5'3, so i should be safe."

"we're never safe..."

suddenly she grabbed my hand and walked toward the mirror.

"she took off her bucket hat, i could see her face now. we both looked in the mirror.

"I have great news, Baylee! I'm 5'3 now, so i can go outside, and hang out with you!"

I smiled.

yet my smile quickly faded as i saw it. her skin was not normal, looked like it had been sewn on. her legs, arms, feet, and neck had scars. it looked like she was wearing skin.

suddenly, a faint ding came from downstairs.

"that'll be the pie!"

she ran downstairs and shut the door behind her. i did not know what i had just seen, but all i knew was that i hated it.

so out of curiosity, i decided to do some exploring.

i opened her wardrobe to find, on hangers, some type of leather. i grabbed it and laid it on the floor. it took me a moment to realize it was HUMAN skin.

"ECCH!" i screamed, trying not to vomit. i quickly rushed over and locked the door. i had to leave. now. i thought about the window, but when i looked out, it was too high.

"Baylee.. open the door honey. i have got some delicious pie.." i heard Vanessa say on the other side.

"Yeah, Baylee!" i heard Chris say too, "Let's play!"

after i did not answer i heard Vanessa say, "Mommy will go get her keys."

was it worth the jump? or would i break something and not be able to run?

suddenly, Chris barged in and lunged at me, holding me tight, i kicked her away, but abruptly, Vanessa slashed me across the back with her huge knife.

"AHHH!" i screamed and fell to the floor in pain. a huge, long red, fresh cut now on my back.

"YOU IDIOT!" Chris screamed. "YOU DESTROYED MY CLOTHES! NOW I HAVE NO CLOTHES TO WEAR! THE SKIN I'M WEARING IS TOO SMALL NOW!"

Chris rolled up her fishnets to reveal 'her' skin peeling off her foot. the blood and dead skin cells was so disgusting it could not even be called human skin.

"oh." said Vanessa sadly. "it is all Mommy's fault."

she looked down at me and smiled.

"honey, how about we wait until the wound heals and the skin her?"

Chris smiled and danced around happily, Crazily.

Chris and her mom tied my arms and legs together and pulled me down the stairs to the basement. when Vanessa turned on the light, stood a surgery table, and rusty, bloody cutting table. they tied my arms and legs to it. i was there for weeks. they fed me stews and water, and treated the wound well and gave me antibiotics.

Soon, the scab began to dry and crust, new, fresh skin underneath.

the fact the wound was healing meant my death was near.

"Look, Baylee!" Chris began. "you've become so famous!" she showed me a news report on her tablet. my photo stood there, next to a video of my mother, shouting, begging them to find me, and Brianna, right next to her. the sight of them made me burst into tears as i begged Chris to get me out of there, but she just laughed, for she only saw me as leather for clothing. she lifted my shirt and beamed. "Mom! the scab is healed! i think i can make new clothes now!"

a few minutes later, Vanessa took out a cutting knife. "shush, child.." she whispered.

suddenly, the doorbell rang.

"was not wanting anyone over.." she said, nervously. "honey, take the skin off, and lay on top of Baylee so she does not move." she left the room. Chris laid her disgusting body on mine, crushing me. i tried to scream but Chris grabbed a knife and pointed it at me. " Don't scream Baylee or i'll stab you ruthlessly in the neck." she whispered.

i knew very well she could not harm me. "help it's me! in the Basement!"

The police burst in with guns. "Baylee?" they said in shock.

"YES! ITS ME, HELP!"

but Chris charged at them with a knife. "NO! MY CLOTHES! YOUR TAKING THEM! I-"

the police shot her down, to Vanessa's horror.

"NO!" she screamed, falling to her knees. "MY BABY!"

EPILOUGE

two days later on the news, a broadcast came on talking about my rescue, and how the killer was a 50 year old White female Named Vanessa smith and blah, blah, blah.

A week later, Chris's grave was dug, though nobody came to the funeral.

To this day, i shudder walking in that neighborhood.

So, if you are 5'3, I'd watch myself.

THE END