'Sylis' Chapter 3A Chapter by MichelleClayI waited for the old Mini to disappear around the corner before taking one final glance around the street. The sun warmed my face. I took a deep breath in, smelling the freshly cut grass smell from next door. I could see some kids playing on the corner, chasing after a frog that they had pulled from a rock at number four’s garden. They looked so happy. Was I ever like that? I tried to think back to a time that I had been but I couldn’t remember any, not even as a child.When I was eight, my mother died from cancer. It was a quick death, considering. I guess you could say quite merciful. She felt unwell the week before and a week later was gone, just like that. I think when people are told that there is no hope, they lose theirs too, like their brain shuts down before their body physically packs up. My brother was older when it happened, about sixteen, my sister just eleven. Ryan joined the army a year later; it wasn’t long before Megan followed.
My dad wasn’t a cruel man but the death of my mum affected him badly, He never really got over it. The thing is, before she was even gone we were never particularly close, so I stayed in the house till I was eighteen. Two strangers sharing a living space. That’s when I met Shakey and within a year I moved out.
I watched a cloud pass in front of the sun, it made my skin prickle at the slight chill. I pulled the keys out of my bag and reached for the lock but hesitated. I could feel someone watching me. I turned quickly, scanning up and down the street and frowned as a black crow landed on a wing mirror just a few metres in front of me. I jangled my keys hoping to scare it but it just sat there, staring back at me with its black beady eyes.
I turned towards the door and shuddered, twisting the key in the lock as the door creaked open. I stepped inside and closed it softly behind me and kicked off my shoes before stepping into the lounge. The house felt so peaceful, so still and quiet. I waved my hand through the air, disturbing the little dust particles floating in the light. At least the house was tidy; I made sure of that last night. Everything was neatly packed away. Ready for who ever else moved in. I hoped they would be happy.
I walked towards the kitchen and opened the fridge door and sighed at its bleak contents, an almost empty bottle of milk, a wrapped up piece of cheese and a bottle of wine. I grabbed the wine from the rack and shut the door. I didn’t feel much like eating anyway. I twisted the cap and poured a large glass, my mouth watered as I breathed in the fruity alcohol smell. I spun the bottle round to look at the label. It was given to me a few months back for doing something well at work. I couldn’t even remember what. I brought the glass to my lips and gagged. I couldn’t drink it, I felt too nervous. I looked around the kitchen and slowly stroked my hand along the worktop. Would I miss this?
I placed the glass carefully on the side and headed for the stairs. I heard the third step creak just like it always did and half smiled at the sound. I walked into the bedroom and over to the window staring out onto the street. The kids had gone. The street was empty. I pushed the window open slightly and let some air in and stepped towards the bed. Was it dark enough yet? I guess it didn’t matter any more.
I walked towards the bed and crouched down and fumbled underneath for the letters I had stashed a while ago. I sat down slowly on the edge of the bed and laid them out one by one in front of me, studying the names on each envelope. I wiped my hand across Shakey’s name, the writing looked all blurry, almost unreadable. I touched my eye confused. Was I crying? Even at mum’s funeral, when I stared out at the highly polished wooden coffin as it was lowered to the ground, I didn’t cry. I felt like a million eyes were watching me, waiting for me to crack. I’m sure they wanted me to show some sort of emotion but I just felt numb, like you could stick a pin in me and I wouldn’t even notice.
I blinked away a tear and gasped at the searing pain stabbing in my chest. I pulled my hands to my head to try and block out the nightmares but the more I tried to fight them the more the pain increased. It was like all that I had buried deep within for so for had suddenly found a way out.
I clenched my teeth to control the pain. I knew how to make this all go away, to make it all stop. It’s what I had planned for so long. It was all that I had left to cling on to. I dug my hand under the mattress and felt the cold steel against my fingertips; I grabbed the handle and studied the knife. I watched it glisten in the slowly fading light of the room, clean and precise, sharp as a razor. Would it work?
I lowered the blade to my wrist and held it steady as I closed my eyes. My hands started to sweat as Ben’s face flashed before me, changing from smiling to petrified. I gasped as more memories came flooding back, watching myself as a teen, invisible to all those around me and back to when mum's coffin lowered into the ground. I shook my head in desperation. I wanted it to stop, the nightmares, the numbness, the pain, I just wanted it all to end.
I swallowed hard and pressed down. My eyes blinked open as a red blob emerged from underneath. I was alive after all. My wrist started to burn like a hot poker; I sucked in a breath and braced myself, ready to pull further. I had to do it slowly. I needed it to hurt. Everything I touched I ruined. I pushed the knife forward and flinched as the blood slowly dripped from my wrist onto the covers. The curtains twitched as a gust of cold air brushed against my arm. I frowned at the open window and back to the goosebumps rising up my arm and shivered, digging the knife further up my wrist.
My arm started to tingle, where the goose bumps had been, like hundreds of little bubbles popping against my skin. I blinked confused, and turned to look at my arm. Something touched it this time. My eyes widened. My heart thumped loudly in my chest. I turned my head quickly, but there wasn’t anything there. I felt a finger trace the tracks where my tears had been and sucked in a breath alarmed. What was going on?
I looked down and frowned as I felt hands rest on top of my own. My heart skipped as they glided up my wrists to my arms, stroking me all the way to my shoulders where they stopped. I half laughed. The sound was so frightening in the quiet cold room. It made me jump! I dropped the knife and stared at the shiny handle as the hands pressed firmly against my shoulders. I shook my head in disbelief. It was impossible?! There wasn’t anyone there.
I watched the blood spread from my wrist to the neatly laid out letters in front. I reached down to the knife but as I did the pressure quickly released from my shoulders and grabbed my hand mid-air. I watched stunned as my hand dangled in front of me, like it was being suspended from an invisible string. It fell quickly as I gasped, like a lead weight back to the bed.
I lowered my head and felt the pressure quickly return to my shoulders. I stretched my fingers towards the blade as my whole body shook violently back and forth. I closed my eyes. I was losing my mind, feeling things that weren’t there, but I knew I would feel the pain again, that was for sure. I would see the nightmares forever, unless I put an end to it.
''No more pain.'' I whispered and clutched the knife.
Something hard smacked against my hand, I opened my eyes quickly and watched the knife bounce against the wall. My bottom lip quivered, why did this have to be so hard? Why couldn’t this just be over? The invisible hands slowly curved their way from my shoulders to my back, pulling me in tight against its chest. Arms that felt strong and safe and solid as rock. I couldn’t fight it any more. Tears streamed down my face as I cried out in agony.
''I’m not meant to be here.'' I screamed.
I felt the arms tighten around me, holding me even closer as I cried deeper into them. I could feel the pressure start to ease in my chest, like a splinter finally removed but my head still felt thick and heavy, full of old sad memories and questions. I whimpered quietly, too exhausted to cry any more and let them slip away one by one as the invisible arms rocked me gently. © 2011 MichelleClayAuthor's Note
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18 Reviews Added on March 17, 2011 Last Updated on March 31, 2011 Author
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