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Scribe
Join Date: Apr 2006
Location: In Misssssssouuuri..
Gender: Female
Posts: 54
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Stairs
Every night I walk by this staircase. Its sickly twisted black, metal frame spirals upward to the room. The room, which I am never to enter. Every night I look up to the room, darkness surrounds it. But tonight, a light shined out from under the door. I lingered by the beginning of the stairs before my father pulled me away.
"Dad! What gives?" I asked as he shoved me towards my bedroom, which was right under the forbidden door.
"You shouldn't loiter by those stairs. Now go to bed, you got school tomorrow."
I mumbled as I walked into my room, kissed my mom's picture, and slid under my covers.
The last thing I heard before drifting off into sleep was Juanita, our housekeeper, and my dad arguing about something.
"I will not go up there! Evil resides in that room!" I could tell that was Juanita by her thick Mexican accent.
"There is a light on up there, and that's going on my electricity bill, so go turn it off! I don't pay you to sit around on your ass all day!"
I heard Juanita say some swear words before I feel asleep.
---
I woke up to something dripping on my ear. I frowned and turned on my back. Maybe there was a leak in my roof.
---
When I woke up, my face was drenched, as well as my hair. And what was that smell? I went to my bathroom to dry my face. I turned on the light and passed by the mirror. I stopped dead in my tracks. My heart started to race as I turned slowly towards my mirror and screamed. Blood covered my face and my hair. I screamed as loud and as long as I could before I passed out from sheer terror.
---
Several faces hovered above me as I woke. One was Dad, the other was my little sister, and I couldn’t identify who the last one was.
"Dad..." I croaked. He stroked my hair with his large hand. "Zach, are you ok? What happened?" I shook my head. I'm not actually sure what happened. I wonder where all that blood came from. And where was Juanita...
"Zach what's wrong? You're as white as a sheet!" Dad looked at me with eyes full of concern.
"Where's Juanita?" I asked. Dad's eyes hardened. "She went home for the night. She'll be back tomorrow." He was lying. My dad patted my head and walked out of the room with my little sister, Ida, in tow. She looked at me with wide eyes. I smiled and gave her a thumbs up.
When they left the room, I started to wonder. Where was Juanita? I looked at the clock, 5:56 p.m. Juanita was usually here until at least 7. Did dad send her up to that room? Was that her-
My train of thought was broken as the mysterious face grabbed my wrist. I jumped. I looked up at him to discover he was a doctor, stethoscope and all. He did all the routine things that doctors do. How is your head? Does it hurt anywhere? Breath for me please.
After he was done, the Doctor packed up his things and left the room. I was all alone. I was going to continue my thought from earlier before I was interrupted, but I started to feel sleepy. That Doctor had given me something to help me sleep. Oh well, I'm sure I'll remember what I was thinking tomorrow.
---
I was at the bottom of the staircase looking up at the room.
"Zachary..."
Someone was calling me. I grabbed the railing and started my way up the stairs. The soft calling of my name continued as I ventured up the sick spiral. Its black frame jutted out every which way. The voice got louder as I grew nearer to the top. Somewhere, somehow, a breeze had picked up. I kept climbing as the voice got louder and the breeze got stronger.
By the time I reached the top, the voice was screaming my name and the breeze had turned into a horribly strong gust that was threatening to throw me off. I gulped and reached my hand out toward the doorknob. A layer of sweat covered my body. The wind beat against my face as my hand hovered above the doorknob.
He's a liar.
The instant I grabbed the doorknob the wind died, and the voice stopped. I slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open. I half expected to find Juanita, but instead, there was my mom. Her platinum blond hair was up in a ponytail and she was in her favorite summer dress. Her back was to me.
"Mom!"
She turned around and smiled. Blood started to pour out of her mouth. And then she was gone. I gasped. I slowly started to make my way into the room, before my mom appeared in front of me. Blood poured out of her mouth and onto my face. Her eyes were nothing but empty sockets, crying bloody tears. Cuts and gashes covered her body, staining her favorite dress red. Then she screamed. The wind picked up and carried me. She made a noise that I have never heard before in my life.
She wailed and cried, " HE'S A LIAR!" over and over again. I could hear her clearly even as I descended further to my death.
---
My eyes shot open. My mother's words echoed in my head. He's a liar. He's a liar. HE'S A LIAR! I whined and covered my ears. Tears leaked out of my eyes. I was so scared. I don't think I have ever been so scared in my entire life! My tears quickly formed into sobs, which eventually became wails and screams. Those three little words would haunt me forever.
He's a liar
Shortly after I ran out of tears, my father stepped into the room.
"Zach? How are you feeling buddy?" He asked as he sat down on the bed next to me.
I sighed. " Good." He doesn't need to know about the dream.
"Are you hungry?"
I shrugged, "Not really." He smiled and ruffled my hair. "Well, dinner will be ready soon"
He got up from the bed and walked out of the room, leaving the door open.
I let go of the breath I had apparently been holding. I slowly got out of the bed so I could dress. My stomach rumbled. Maybe I was hungry.
---
We ate dinner in silence. The occasional 'can you pass the peas' or 'don't put your elbows on the table' were the only words that stained the silence. After Ida left the table, I worked up the courage to ask some questions.
"Dad?"
"Yes, Zach?"
"Where's Juanita?"
"I fired her."
Confusion fluttered over my features. "Why?"
Dad looked down at his plate and scraped along, collecting mashed potato remnants.
"She never did anything, so I fired her."
We sat in silence for a couple minutes.
"How did Mom die?" I quickly asked.
Dad slammed his fork on the table and stood up quickly. " This conversation is over."
I opened my mouth to protest but he shot me a look. Fear quickly took control of my body.
He glared at me for a second or two and then turned around, walking towards the door. I stared at his back as he opened it.
"She fell."
----
"I can't believe you, Harold! First dogs and goats, now maids! What in the name of God is wrong with you!?" she screamed as she paced on the roof.
"Honey, it's all going to a good cause." he calmly said, making smooth hand gestures.
"A good cause? And what might that be?"
A sick grin spread across his face.” Power."
She stopped, turned around and looked at him. "Power?"
"Yes."
"What kind of power?"
"The kind that will allow me to give life to the dead, and take it from the living."
She shook her head in disgust. "You're sick you know that? SICK!" She quickly walked to the edge of the roof, overlooking the city. He swiftly walked up to her and slid his arms around her waist.
"Lily, you know what power means to me. I am the president of my company; I am a highly respected man. I want to be the big cheese of my religion, and to do that I have to have power." He leaned his face into the crook of her neck and breathed next to her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
"There is nothing you can do."
The woman's face contorted in rage, and she shoved him away and stood on to the edge of the roof. His eyes widened.
"Lily! What are you doing?!"
Her face became solemn and determined. “You will have no power over me." She took a small step back and let gravity do the rest.
----
I looked down at my Biology homework, not really caring about cell division. I scratched my head in thought.
She Fell.
Did she really? My mother wasn't really the careless, or unbalanced type. She did gymnastics for years and was very graceful. I drummed my fingers on my desk. Did she really?
I stood up with a sigh and walked out of my room. The house was deathly silent. I walked around, looking for human contact. I checked the kitchen for Dad, and the T.V. room for Ida. Neither were to be found. I gave a stretch and thought aloud.
"Maybe they went out."
My eyes scanned the household, until I came upon the stairs, and the door that sat up top. The light was on again. I gazed at the door, for it seemed to shimmer and move. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, but it continued to move. I quickly looked around. No Dad in sight. I quickly walked over to the stairs. The cold, black frame looked twisted and unwelcoming. I reached out and put my hand on the railing and placed my foot on the first step.
" Well I didn't explode," I joked as I started my way up the stairs.
With each step it felt as though my feet got heavier, and the air got thinner. I was breathing heavy as I reached the top. The door shimmered and contorted. Sweat poured out of my forehead as my hand was on doorknob. I slowly turned it, until I heard it click.
He's a liar.
My mother's words zipped through my head, and I pushed open the door. Horror wrot my face when I saw the room. I fell to my knees and whined in horror. There was my mother, her dead, rotting body, nailed onto the wall, in the middle of some diagram. My eyes darted about the room. I saw bones of different size hanging along the ceiling; candles were at the points of a pentagram on the floor, where in the middle lied a crumpled figure. My eyes locked on the figure. I couldn't recognize anything through all the blood and entrails, until I saw the pink shoes. Ida. My face twisted in sadness, anger, and fear. I looked a little higher and saw my father with a headdress made of bones and skin, with a necklace of tongues, his face painted as a skull, and he was wearing a black, and white robe. Blood coated his hands and soaked the sleeves of his robe.
"Zachary," he said softly.
"What did you do!" I shouted at him, on the verge of hysteria.
"I did what was necessary to bring her back?"
"Who? Who is important enough so that you have to kill Ida?"
"Your mother."
My breathing stopped as I stared at him. Mom?
I whispered, “what?"
He slowly stood up and walked towards me." Your mother. I am going to bring her back."
My gaze was fixed onto his eyes." How?"
He smiled softly," with the life and blood of others."
I shook my head," no. That’s not possible! You can't bring the dead back to life! It's impossible!"
He placed his hand onto my head. I flinched. "Zach, there are a lot of things in this world that are supposedly impossible."
He leaned his head next to my ear and whispered, " Nothing is impossible."
My eyes widened, and he backed away. He smiled, and his eyes burned with passion. " Will you help me?"
I shook my head and slowly backed away.
"No."
He persisted, " For your mother."
"No!" I spun on my heel and flew down the stairs.
"You can't run from me!" my father roared before he took off after me. At the end of the stairs I ran towards the door that lead to the outside world, but he some how ended up there before me. I yelped and turned around. He grabbed the collar of my shirt, and pulled me back to the floor. I shrieked, kicked and flailed my arms about with all my might. He started to drag me back towards the stairs. I scrambled, grabbing at anything that might anchor me, we reached the stairs, and I clung to the bottom step. not allowing him to drag me any further. He snarled and punched me in the back of the head with enough force to knock me out.
----
I awoke in the circle where my sister's remains lay. I gagged at the stench of punctured intestines and old blood. My eyes shifted around the room, until they caught a machete to my left. I reached my hand over and curled my fingers around the hilt. Just then my father's foot crushed my fingers. I grunted and looked up and saw him with fresh face paint.
"So what are you going to do now?" I asked, my voice trembling. He removed his foot and pulled me up by my neck, grabbing the machete along the way. He kept his grip firm on my neck while he spoke.
"I am going to give you back to your mother." He lifted me off the ground and chanted in an off tongue, my fingers seeked for something to help me. My fingers made their way to his wrist. I found a long, slender bone on his bracelet. I ripped it off and lodged it into his eye. He screamed, dropping the machete and me. He sunk to his knees and held his eye while wailing in pain. I quickly picked up the machete. His good eye wandered to me.
"What are you going to do, Zach? Kill me?" He chuckled.
I gulped. Blood flowed between his fingers and ran down his arm in crimson runnels.
"Good bye, Dad," I whispered before I took the machete and forced it into his forehead. Tears were running down my face and I heard the bone break, and his last cry. The life leaked out of his eyes. It was done. I was safe. But to what cost? I looked around the room. My mother was still dead. My father killed my sister, and I had ended his life. I was the only one left.
I shakily made my way out of the room, walking over the bodies, and stumbling down the stairs. I slowly picked up the phone to dial 911, but set it down again. I gazed up at the stairs, to the room. My face wryed in disgust. That room was evil. Many evil things had happened there. I wandered towards the garage and several jugs of gasoline, sprinkling it about the house. I grabbed my mother's picture and a jacket. I stood at the front door, looking one last time at this evil house. I lit a match and let it fall to the floor. Walking away I didn't look back at the blaze behind me, at the house, the past, all the events that had unfolded into a tragedy. Now I looked towards the future with questions, and hopes, of something nice. Maybe.
Last edited by HelenSpringer : 06-05-2006 at 06:38 AM.
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