Behind The Closet Door

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Preface

 

 

 

 

 

 

From childhood's hour I have not been

As others were; I have not seen

As others saw; I could not bring

 My passions from a common spring.

From the same source I have not taken

My sorrow; I could not awaken

My heart to joy at the same tone;

And all I loved, I loved alone.

Then- in my childhood, in the dawn

Of a most stormy life- was drawn

From every depth of good and ill

The mystery, which binds me still:

From the torrent, or the fountain,

From the red cliff of the mountain,

From the sun that round me rolled

 In its autumn tint of gold,

From the lightning in the sky

As it passed me flying by,

From the thunder and the storm,

And the cloud that took the form

(When the rest of Heaven was blue)

Of a demon in my view.

 

Alone - Edgar Allan Poe

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~ Chapter One ~

 

Hope leads you to desperations beyond which you were willing to seek.

 

 

 

 

 

 

         I held my breath as I waited for the test results.  Mr. Pagan was going around the class, passing out each students test, and I was about to bite right through my pencil.  I closed my eyes, and started to work an algebra question in my head to pass the time.  I felt a brush against my arm, and feared to open my eyes.

            “Well, Mrs. Venyetta!” I felt myself start to suffocate as I held my breath, “It looks like someone made the" ”

            Suddenly, a female voice came over the intercom, and it summoned me to the office.  Almost as if my silent prayers were finally being heard, I collected my things, grabbed my test from Mr. Pagan, and sauntered down the hall.

            I felt as though my exuberance was a little more than it should’ve been for a trip to the Principal’s office.  But once I entered through the door, my bright face grew grim.

            “Why are you here?” rudely slurred out of my mouth like acid before I could catch it.

            My Aunt Carryona, stood in front of the Secretary’s desk.  Her was expression surprised at first, and then like always, it faded into a solemn broken mask.  “Hi, sweetie.” She tried to smile, but obviously something was trying to suppress the expression.

            Without the sudden knowledge required to know I had done it, these harsh words tumbled out of my mouth, “What do you want?” I glared at her with an icy manner.

            Mrs. Belva, the secretary, gawked at me, “Juliet!  That is no way to talk to your Aunt!”

            Without breaking my empty stare at Carryona, I spoke, “She is not my Aunt… she’s absolutely nothing to me.”

            None of my harsh words seemed to crack Carryona’s mask of boredom.  I longed so badly to make her hurt, as she did me many years ago.  Again, I asked her, “What are you here?  What do you want?”

            “Juliet Venyetta!  I will not tolerate disrespectful behavior!  Your Aunt is here under very unfortunate circumstances that clearly you unaware of!  So sit down, and pay attention!” Mrs. Belva shrieked, her eyes appeared larger under her glasses.

            I did as instructed, and directed my full attention to Carryona.

            “Yes, I’m afraid so,” Carryona agreed with Mrs. Belva, her face beginning to wilt.  “Honey, I’m here to pick you, and Cameron up.” She said, placing a hand gently upon Juliet’s shoulder.

            I only wanted so bad to flinch away.  I felt as though Carryona’s hand was a white-hot iron, burning right through my clothes and skin.  Everything about Carryona made me want to wretch.  The mere thought of being with her made me want the earth to open up and swallow me.  Her perfume, which used to be comforting as a five year old, now gagged me.  Her goddess like figure, and killing looks made everyone envy her deeply.  Me, I had no emotion for her.  She only cared about herself, and it was simply that no one else was to matter when she was around.

            “I just found out today that…” Carryona’s eyes began to tear up, and she accepted a tissue from Mrs. Belva.  She dotted the tissue underneath her eyes to keep her make up from smearing.  “Juliet, your parents passed away in a plane crash this morning on their trip to Fiji for their honeymoon.” She hid her face in her hands, and began to sob.

            I sat there… as quiet, and lifeless as a rock.  In that moment, nothing else was heard, seen, or said, because I blanked out, and I was alone, with myself, in my mind.  It seemed to be the only sanctuary left.  Now that Jerry, and mom were gone, and my real dad died long ago from Mono, I had nowhere left to go.

            I tried to throw all that had just happened into the back of my mind.  I tried to swallow my sorrow, and almost choked on my fears.  I stood up, and held up my index finger, “I need a minute.” I tried my best to act as though I was fine, but I knew if I didn’t make it to a trashcan, or the bathroom, that would change.

            I trotted down the hall to the girl’s restroom, and locked myself in a stall.  This can’t be happening! I told myself quietly.  This wasn’t supposed to happen!  Oh God, please tell me I’m not going Carryona!  Please don’t make me!  Then suddenly I heard Carryona’s voice, and it was then when I threw up.

 

 

 

I sat in the backseat of Carryona’s Toyota, and rested my head on the seat, as I stared out the window.  Smoky-colored clouds invaded the sky, and strikes of light soared through the heavens.

“Ooh, this storm looks like it’s going to be bad.  Cam, Jules, you two buckle up, okay?” Carryona tightened her grip on the steering wheel, and buckled her self in.

“Don’t call me Jules, and don’t call my brother Cam.  You know our names, so pronounce them right.” I snapped at her.

She sighed.  “Juliet, I’m tired of your rude behavior, young lady.” She said, her face blank, as always.

“Well, I guess I can say the same for you.  It’s not like I should, though.  You’ve never done anything good for me.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with Aunt Carryona.” Cam said, playing with his teddy bear. “I think she’s nice.”

I sighed, and rested my head against the seat.  I was tired of fighting for the day.  It was apparent that I wasn’t going anywhere by arguing.  So, I gave up, closed my eyes, and hoped that my dreams could take me somewhere far away from here.  As the dark clouds began to pour, and ice aided the rain’s raid upon earth, I fell asleep, and dreamed of the last good memory I had left.

I didn’t dream of my parents, not of Cam, or of anything a normal kid would find comforting in this time.  Instead of somewhere that seemed safe, my wondered to the deepest levels of pain to find something I felt I had lost.  I thumbed through all of my fears, pains, as though they were files.  As I picked around, I resurrected some of my old memories.

The memory of where I was five, and I had almost drowned in a huge lake, was the first one to stream by.  One of where I was left alone in a subway station after my first boyfriend had broken up with me flew by next.  Another one swam by, and it was of my fifteenth birthday.  On that day, I had gone horse riding with my best friend, and my horse jumped a fence, which caused me to fall off.  The fall had split my Tibia, and fractured my Fibula in my leg.  The doctor said my Humerus was fine, but would hurt for some time.

            The last one that soared by was the last time I had seen Carryona.  She had come over to our house to have a supposedly pleasant talk with mom, but that’s not what happened.  She had ended up grabbing her, and shoving her to the wall.  Carryona snapped mom’s wrist in two, and clawed her neck.  All I could remember seeing were the terrible images of mom.  Blood ran down her arm, and neck.  Her bone was sticking gruesomely out of her arm, and I had tried to suppress myself from hurling.  I had grabbed Cam, and told him not to look.  I ran with him outside, and dialed 911.

It wasn’t long before the cops showed up to observe the scene, and fix the problem.  Someone knocked on the bathroom door, and Cam tightened his hug-like grip around my waist.  A low, muffled voice sounded through the door.  Cam, only six at the time, was terrified to the bone.  He was shaking so hard, he was rattling my teeth just from contact.

“Hello?  Is anyone in here?” is what I thought the voice said, but I couldn’t be sure if what I deciphered was correct.

Hesitantly, I grabbed the door handle, and twisted it.  I held my breath as I slowly edged the door in my direction.  My mind was flying a million miles an hour as I pulled the door open.  Fear was intoxicating my lungs as I continued to hold my breath.

I jumped to the sound of a low, male voice.  “This is the Police.  Do not be afraid.” The man said, rapping softly on the door again.

            Cam was behind me holding my hand.  I could feel his hand constricting tighter with every inch I pulled the door open.  It seemed as though a thousand years had flown by before I actually opened the door completely.  Just by looking down at Cam, I could tell he was on the verge of bursting into tears.  I gently ruffled his hair, and stroked his face.

            The Police officer was a big, bald, dark-skinned man, who resembled that of our Uncle Robert.  He had a soft face that took on a solemn expression.  “Hello, I’m officer Kelly Richards.  Are you two alright?”  He asked, placing a huge hand on Cam’s shoulder.

            “Yeah, we’re okay.” I said, trying to stop my brother from shaking.

            As the officer led us out of the bathroom, and I felt an icy cold essence hit me.  It was like walking right into a meat locker.  Everything felt as though it had been torn out of place, and re-pieced together backwards.  It was like trying to join puzzle pieces that didn’t fit with each other, or saying the alphabet with numbers.  Something was wrong, and the evil presence here felt as though it wasn’t done here.

            I held onto my brother’s hand tightly as we walked through the hallway, and into the living room slash crime scene again.  I told him not to look, and he obeyed.  I’m sure if I had known what was coming that I wouldn’t have looked either.  The floor was covered in pools of blood, and their mom’s favorite vase was shattered on the floor.  The TV had been knocked over, and it now lay hollow on the floor.  The TV’s screen lie scattered through out the living room in a trillion tiny shards.

            It was apparent there was a lot more destruction that took place after we ran to the bathroom.  Though it seemed that a demon was let loose in here, nothing could be heard from where my brother, and I had gone to hide.  Dad’s old bookshelf was now turned over, and the contents inside of it were slung across the floor.

            Something started to smell, which caused me to turn on my heel, and run to the kitchen.  The pork chops mom was fixing for supper were beginning to burn, so I quickly took them out while they were still good.  The tea she had boiling had already bubbled over, and caused a mess that caused the kitchen to smell terrible.  The sweat corn that she was heating in the microwave was already cold, and so were the mashed potatoes she had bought from the deli.

            I looked down at Cam, and he had stopped holding himself back.  His silent tears fell from his sweet, now sorrowful blue eyes.  “I don’t like it here.” He said almost silently.

            “I know, but everything will get better.” I hope…

           

 

 

           Though the event happened only two years ago, it seemed lifetimes have passed since .  It wasn’t long before the images in my mind began to blur, and my senses to lose their height.  My world started to disappear as my dreams completely swept me away from reality.  Curse the one who made deciding what we dream involuntary.  I crashed hard.  So hard that I don’t remember what I dreamt of.

            I woke up to the alien sound of horns, and screaming.  Where are we? was my first question.  The tall buildings that engulfed us seemed to amaze me.  All of the cars bunched up around each other were a sight my eyes had never seen before.  Everyone appeared to be honking, and screaming creative profanity at each other.

            “Where the hell are we?” I asked Carryona, who appeared to be ticked off with someone in front of her.

            “Oh, well, look who woke up.” She said, her voice soft, but her expression was hard as glass.

            “That’s not the answer I wanted.” I moaned.

            “Huh, well we’re in New York.”

             My eyes widened, and I almost screamed.  “What are we doing in New York?” I asked, staring out of the window, holding my hand to my forehead as though I had a headache.  I began to wonder how long I had been out.  Frustration, and exasperation stung throughout my whole body as I watched this foreign world slowly drag by .  What was I supposed to do in a world, in which I’ve never been before?  I slowly fell back on the seat, closed my eyes, and cupped my ears. Oh, please, God get me out of here!  I don’t want to be here!  If this is a punishment, please tell me what I did to deserve this!  A voice inside of me longed to crawl out of me and scream at the world.

Is that snow?  I slowly pressed my hand up against the window and gasped as I watched the snowflakes waltz together and then peacefully meet their demise as they hit the frozen ground.  I envied them… the fragile snowflakes appeared so beautiful as they descended from the heavens.  I could imagine the angels up in Heaven carving the snowflakes from the clouds, and then letting them gracefully plummet through the Earth’s frozen atmosphere… turning them into frozen snow dancers.  I longed to dance with one of them one day.  It was apparent I had never seen snow before.  I wondered why it didn’t snow in South Carolina.

I shook Cam’s arm trying to wake him so he could see these beautiful creatures.  His blue eyes were dull with sleep as they popped open, “What is it?” he asked, hopeful he was about to see some kind of miracle.

“Look out your window, Cam, hurry!”

He turned around suddenly, and searched all throughout the buildings as we passed them.  “What am I looking for, Jules?” he turned around with a puzzled look scrambled on his face.

“Wow!” Cam gasped, “Snow!  It’s snowing!  It’s snowing, Juliet!  It’s snowing!” his voice was alive with exuberance.  His face was practically glued to his window, and you could see his breath was fogging it up.

“Where are we, Aunt Carryona?”

“We’re passing through New York at the moment, baby.”

I was about ready to rip my hair out of its roots.  Did I not tell her Cam had a name?  What was her problem?  Was she deaf, or did she prefer selective hearing?  I wanted to jump out of the car and walk back home, but South Carolina seemed far away from here.  It was then when I began to wonder where we were headed.

“Have you two ever been to Maine?” Carryona asked, looking at me in the review mirror.

            “No, I don’t think we have.” Cam said, shaking his head, while drawing figures on the fogged window.

            I sat back in my seat, and sighed.  So we were going to Maine.  Maybe it wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought it would be.  I quickly shook the random thought away.  Never in a million years would I be happy with Carryona.  Not after what she had done to us.  Of course, Cam was young at the time, and didn’t know how to handle the emotional stress he had received from the fight between she and mom.  I closed my eyes, and prayed this nightmare would soon go away.

            “Don’t worry kids.  We’ll be home soon.” Carryona said as we hit a quiet countryside I guessed was the outside of New York somewhere.

            I don’t know where we were, but the land was breath takingly beautiful.  It reminded me a lot of the quiet hills of South Carolina.  The serenity of the wildlife made me smile as the outside world reflected out of my green eyes.  I sucked in my breath as I saw horses galloping across the plains.  Living in the country was so peaceful.  Cam and I both loved it.  The beauty made me want to cry.  It made me think of the first time I had taught Cam how to ride.  He had a little, black and white Paint pony that he named Ragtime that he used to ride everywhere.  I always rode beside him on my white Arabian, Misae.  His name meant The White Sun in Navajo dialect.

            These memories made me ache inside.  How badly I longed to ride once more.  Everything inside me felt as though it were trying to scream, and break free of my body, as though it were a cage of torment.  I shoved my hands in my pockets for the fear of I might choke myself.

           

 

 

            Cam had fallen back asleep around nine.  We had already reached the border of Maine by then.  My eyes were beginning to droop, and I was afraid I would to fall asleep because that would only quicken my journey to her house.  Something about the destination in which we were headed frightened me deeply.  I shivered as fear’s boney claws crawled up my spine, and squeezed my shoulders as if to clarify its presence.

            I watched my arm as I let it snake the door and strike the handle.  I was about ready to pull, but terror was chasing my heart in a haunting game of tag.  I grasped my chest as if I could catch my heart before it tried to speed out of my chest.  My pulse was thrumming in my head in ears like a bass drum, and I began to feel dizzy.  I began to shake as the hairs on my arms stood up.  I wasn’t ready for this.

            “Are you alright?” Carryona asked, which triggered me to jerk my head in his direction.

            “Uh…” I felt so immobilized, almost completely paralyzed by my fear that I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to speak.  I closed my eyes and nodded quickly to reassure her.  When I reopened my eyes, she still looked doubtful.  I didn’t care. I just wanted her to leave me alone.

            “Juliet, you’re pale.” She said in a frozen voice.

            “I’m fine!  Jeez!  Leave me alone!”

            I knew I wasn’t all right.  I just hoped I would hurry up and get better.  Something inside of me was really starting to hurt.  It was almost like I couldn’t breathe, and my heart was speeding so uncontrollably I was afraid of something like cardiac arrest was taking place.  Maybe I just needed to calm down, I told myself.  The thoughts in my mind were running as fast as my pulse.  Maybe I needed to fear what was going on inside of me.  Maybe something very bad was going to happen… something that could be considered fatal.  Was I supposed to be afraid?  My hand was squeezing the door handle so tightly I could’ve sworn my finger imprints were the only trace of their presence.  I tried to look at my hand, but the darkness made it difficult.  I could still tell it was shaking.

            “Carry�"” Was all that slipped between my lips before I passed out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~ Chapter Two ~

 

Your Fears Are Your Only True Friends, For They Never Leave Your Side

Author's Note

That's all I have so far... tell me what you think! The line underneath the sentence means that's where you stopped reading last time.

Reviews

[creepingdeath]

i loev it keep it going!!! i want to read more !! xx

[AbsentElements]

It's a brilliant story line, I think it will be amazing once you add onto it (if of course you decide to). And if you do I will be happy to read the rest.... For now though the write is amazing. The story had me forgetting anything around me existed.

[Senseless whatever]

Excellent write. You bring the reader into your story and keep them there. Great job overall.

[r]

OMG, I like this! You could have expressed the part where she found out her parents were dead better, though. It just didn't seem real, what she was feeling at that moment.

I can't wait for you to add more

[Chris]

Nice write. It was interesting all the way through and I love the descriptive words you use. The only problem I noticed was how you use a comma before almost every and. There doesn't need to be a comma every time. Like, I'm sure "Her goddess like figure, and killing looks made everyone envy her deeply" could do just fine without the comma. I think it would flow better without the pause.

[David W Moore III]

Very intriguing and engrossing read. If I had to make one small change it would be in the paragraph that she is led out of the bathroom by the policeman. Don't tell us what it was like. Tell us what it was. Use metaphor and just say, it was ... And continue. Try not to be passive. But that didn't affect the read all tgat much. Post more!

[Charles]

Whoa...Nice read. I like the poem to start and I should have been prepared for something to grab my attention, but you stirred me a bit.

[Anastasiya]

OMG!!!! I absolutely love this Lisette! I hope you continue this!!