Attic of an Abandoned House

Juanita envisioned this as her haven, but she mever knew that life could also corrupt her mental being.

The attic laid on the last floor of the abandoned house--distant from the crowd beneath the floor as it made more noise than she could ever hear. Through the windows of the room pathed the light of the sun, Juanita desired for her haven. No one else wanted to live in an abandoned attic but her. The sound of the siren wailing, the sweet ecstasy, the loud monotonous movement of the crowd outside, it was different for her; it has given her fear. Her minutes inside the room exhibit value as a sign of safety and gratification; it was the best place for her mind to invigorate.
Juanita sauntered up to the last floor of the house; she made light steps along the way as she fancied the sound of silence in the day. Cautiously pushing the door, she tiptoed towards the inside of the room. The door shut as she walked towards the window on the far end. Her tears escaped as she squeezed her eyes tight. Her tears ran down as she squeezed her eyes tight. It was her last resource as she intended to run into the persisting death. Her imagination grew stronger as she envisioned herself with the doll she was holding. It was her imaginary friend whom she could talk to when things on her way get distorted or when she yearned for a friend to keep her sane. Ultimately, she craved for a counterpart of the doll she had. Jaime. She had given the doll the opportunity to be a fragment of her existence. Even the lifeless things had the most impact in her life, when her family never had the urge to do the same for her.
As the siren wailed louder and louder, she couldn't bear the sound until it urged her to watch through the small window. It was coming from the far end of the road. Her anxiety overloaded her until there was nothing else she could do but scream to eternity. Her scream fought for her life�"the life of an innocent girl. The sound of her voice and loud wailing corrupted her mind until it wasn’t able to do its purpose. Before her fear progressed, she took a deep breath and clung on to hope.
She walked towards the door and attempted to open it, but she started panicking as she couldn’t open it. The burden on her shoulders drove her down. The wind was strongly howling as she ran towards the rectangular window. Her feet quivered as the ground beneath her had vibrations caused by a load of cars driving around the vicinity. Her face marked red as the heat inside the room embraced her body. To stop agitating, she sat on one corner of the room and closed her eyes. She dreamed about the world being in a different dimension where no belief shall embody an unknown.
She decided to wake up to reality and attempted to open the door.
It was unlocked the whole time.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This is delightfully intense & bizarre, as if written with a Halloween mood in mind (so much spooky writing at the cafe, so I see it in your story!) You do a good job of writing interesting descriptions using long complex sentences, but also breaking up complicated passages by adding some air . . . a simple sentence structure, here & there. It feels like this attic is a self-imposed exile that exists only in this narrator's mind. She feels like an outcast, so she creates an imaginary place where she can be the queen of outcasts! This is kinda common among people who identify strongly with being broken. I like how your story has one foot in fantasy & the other in reality (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie