SMILING MAN'S POV:

I smile proudly. That's the least I can do. Smile. Big. Bright. Show off your pearly whites. Yeah, that's my type of smile. It's not easy, but when I smile, it fills a gaping hole in my heart.

-

I stood in surprise when I saw a bright light leaking out of my house, unsure of what to think or feel. Everyone chattering enthusiastically around the dining table. The family home fills with the iconic aroma of mom's lasagna; so good my stomach can taste it. Dad leads a prayer, and soon, they all dig in... A happy family dinner.

The front door creaks open and they stare at me, a man wearing a dark cloak with a tint of red on the bottom. 

Pindrop silence. Of course, they never expected to see me again. Not in a million years. Then, their eyes well up with emotion; as if they've won a multi-million dollar lottery.

This feels all too real.

I burst out sobbing as they ran up to me, hugged me, and told me how much they missed me. My mother, shedding tears of joy. My father, his mouth agape. My brothers and sisters, ramble excitedly about all the crazy stuff I've missed. All the birthdays, family trips... Everyone is happy. 

But then reality hits me like a brick. My heart sinks. I have no family. Nobody else but me had ever sat in the dining table for years. Only empty chairs frozen in time.

Chloe, my chihuahua, runs up to me and I hug her tightly. I only have her. She's all the family I need and love. Through good days and bad days, Chloe has always been by my side. For the 10 years they couldn't. There is no world without her.

I stroke her soft, snow-white fur; letting tears drip incessantly down my chin. She licks and kisses my ear. That's her way of telling me she loves me. Even as I stand up, walk to the kitchen, and make her food, she gnaws at my bloodstained pants. Chloe reminds me of what love is every time I look at her. How to love and what it's like to be loved.

After dinner, we lie down together on the back patio and gaze at the stars. It's something I used to do with my siblings, but now I do it with Chloe. The stars wink at us. I laugh. She howls. A cold November night means nothing to our tight bond; our true love.

Chloe finally snuggles up on my lap and closes her huge baby-doll eyes. I cradle her in my arms and listen as she snores quietly. I whisper a lullaby to her that my mother used to sing to me when I was a child.

The other night dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms
But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
So I hung my head and I cried.

...

I'll always love you and make you happy,
If you will only say the same.
But if you leave me and love another,
You'll regret it all someday.

...

You told me once, dear, you really loved me
And no one else could come between.

...

In all my dreams, dear, you seem to leave me
When I awake my poor heart pains.
So when you come back and make me happy
I'll forgive you dear, I'll take all the blame.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away"

I delicately place my Chloe on her dog bed, caressing her one last time before tiptoeing into another room, carefully trying not to step on any creaky floorboards. I walk drunkenly, humming and softly whistling to the tune of "You Are My Sunshine," until I reach the basement. 

It reeks of mold, dried blood, and the acrid stench of canned tuna gone bad.

A young lady sits adjacent to the door; roped to a wooden chair, blindfolded, and with duct tape wrapping her lips. Bruises cover her battered body from head to toe. Her black hair is strewn untidily, and tears marred her face. When I take off her blindfold, her hazel-brown eyes meet mine. I kneel down to her level and lay a finger in the center of her brow.

"Elizabeth," I coo, my index finger pressing harder. An infamous grin spreads from ear to ear.

She jumps in her seat, tightly squeezing the armrests. A single tear rolls down her cheek, a silent cry for help. Her breathing and heart-rate accelerates. She lets out a muffled shriek as I begin to pick at the duct tape.

"Nobody's gonna save you..."

I rip the tape covering her mouth, revealing a severely busted lip.

"So don't try screaming," I chuckle, covering my lips to keep from laughing too loud. This isn't funny. None of it is.  

Grabbing a spoonful of tuna, I force it into her mouth. Elizabeth looks up at me as if she's about to vomit.

"Chew," I whisper, readily watching her gulping and retching. Her eyes bulge as she forcefully swallows her raw meal. Bite after bite, until the can is but a thin casing.

Then, she slumps forward, white foam bubbles out her mouth.

Her eyes fall lifeless.

I glance at my watch. As predicted, it's 10:35.

*********

I know, I know. It sounds weird, doesn't it? I thought that I should do something like this before it's too late.

ANYWAYS, how was the different POV? Is it bad? I'm always open to critiques. 

Oh ya. Before I forget, "I AM SO SORRY I DIDN'T UPDATE THIS SOONER!!!" You guys really wanted this chapter but I'm swamped with work from summer school. Summer school is almost over so I'm back to writing this AND reading all the reads I owe.

Well, if you thought that this chapter is bad, I promise the next one will be better. The vibe shall return!!!

Btw, vote or you will see the Smiling Man in your sleep.