The room is dark. I’ve lived in this deep, empty quiet before. Many times. The last time is always the last time, but Grandma Classen comes with weaponry beyond her demented violent streak. He must know what she does when he leaves me here all alone. It’s clear this isn’t the first time she’s imprisoned a teenage girl.
I feel microscopic legs crawl across my skin. But I’m not afraid of the unseen things in the dark. What I’m truly afraid of are the unseen things standing outside this door.
Well, to be accurate . . . one unseen thing. Her.
When I close my eyes at night, I see her usual uniform: an oversized gray silk gown likely made during the Great Depression. In my mind, her eyes are so black they almost disappear into the night. I imagine how her unnaturally dark eyes have powers that most evil abysses do. Invisible demons swirl around inside them, giving her ideas on how to torture me to the brink of death, then bring me back to a place where I wish she had killed me.
Of course, I could be exaggerating the power she has over me. But sitting in this empty closet is torture. And it makes my mind think terrible things.
Like, how I wish I could be perfect enough for her to love me. But who could love a monster like that?
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Another monster stirs outside the attic door, pulling me away from the dark echoes of my past. At least he hasn’t thrown me in a closet. It’s the only thought that keeps me going as I wait for my death to come.
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