1| Home

1K 15 1
                                    

There may be a few spelling mistakes I missed oops lol ignore those

Enjoy !! ;)

~Lauren

Matilda 'Tilly' Ransom watched as she entered Castle Rock for the first time. She thought it was a big town at first. There was lots of people, but they all looked very... in their own minds.

"What is this place?" She narrowed her eyes at people they drove by.

Her father looked down at her, "home."

She looked up at him, sarcasm always flooding her tone, "poetic."

The second they pulled up to their new house, she wasn't as disappointed. It was a fairly nice two story home and a circular window at the very top.

"Hey, is that an attic?" The girl asked, opening the door of the truck to hear a bottle fall on the pavement.

She looked down at her feet to see a few more empty ones.

"Yes, and pick that up, will y'a?" Her father shook his head.

She mocked him quietly, and threw the bottle in the back of the truck, "sorry I'm not a drunk."

Her father had been drinking ever since he was a kid. Things only got way worse when her mother passed away from a sickness. He could get agressive, making it physically and emotionally damaging to the girl. Luckily, she's used to it, making it easy to pretend around others.

"There's three bedrooms, I get the biggest one." Her father plopped down on the couch, turning on the tv.

Their furniture was moved in yesterday.

She rolled her eyes, carrying her bags, "yep, gotcha."

"I don't need the attitude, Tilly." She heard him say, along with the sound of a bottle cap being popped open.

"Look who it's coming from." She continued to look in different rooms.

That was until she seen the attic.

She smiled, dropping her bags immediately. She tried to jump and grab the latter, but it was too high up. So, she improvised.

She ran outside to the truck, dragging in a bin of her clothes.

"You're gonna scratch the floors." Her dad kept his eyes glued to the tv.

"We'll buy a rug." She deadpanned, continuing to drag the bin towards the latter.

What if something falls out.

Like a dead body or a rat.

She shook the thoughts from her head and stood on the bin, pulling the latter down. She made sure to step off the bin when she could reach.

Luckily, nothing fell out.

"Thank god." She muttered, poking her head through the latch.

It smelled like old... which didn't really bother her since there was old cardboard boxes up there.

"Hey dad!" She called out to him, receiving no answer.

She knew the stuff wasn't theirs because of the dates on some of the old magazines, or diaries.

The diaries seemed like they belonged to a girl around her age who lived here. Along with old boxes of clothes and hats, plus jewelry.

Tilly had gone through every single one of those boxes and diaries. By the date, she estimated that the girl was still alive if nothing happened.

Maybe she still lives in Castle Rock.

She put everything back in the boxes, piling them in the corner. She brought all of her other bags and bins (pushing them up the ladder) until she ran into a slight problem.

"Well shit."

She stood in the room her bed was placed in, "you've gotta be kidding me."

The mattress was flexible-ish so she managed to fold the corners in enough to pass through the latch and shove the rest through. She took the bedframe apart, carrying all the pieces into the attic.

She did the same with her other furniture. It was like she bought them all over again, having to rebuilt it by memory.

Her father had finally had enough of all the racket, four beers in. He walked through the dark hallway, opening the girls door to see an empty room.

When he turned his sight towards a longer string tightened to the handle of the attic, he pulled it down.

"Matilda." He groaned, walking up the ladder to see her room had actually turned out nice. He noticed the girl sitting in the large frame of the window, reading a book.

Which happened to be the diary.

"Mark." The girl closed the book with a sigh.

"This is what you've been doing? What about the boxes in the truck?" He stood on the stairs of the latter, resting his beer on her floor.

She shrugged, "they're yours."

He thought of the girl as a brat, so he was gonna treat her like one, "you're a brat you know that?"

But, of course, it wasn't true.

She was done with her fathers bullshit, even though she cared for him more then he was supposed to care for her.

"You didn't ask me to bring them in, I thought you were going to after your daily tantrum."

And, sometimes Tilly just can't bite her tongue.

He didn't say anything, he just angrily walked down the ladder.

Matilda was confused as to why she started hearing the ladder noises. The only way she got an answer was when the latch shut.

Her jaw clenched in anger, but she didn't get up from her seat yet. She looked out the window, noticing a perfect escape plan.

She found out the big window opens.

The sun was going to go down soon, so she decided to just go for it anyway.

She grabbed the pack of cigarettes from under her pillow. She kept a pair of black converse in her room, so she put those on too.

She paired her shoes with a random pair of jean shorts, a white tank top and the necklace she received from her mother. Her long hair was always down, so she didn't do anything with it. Except she did always have an elastic on her wrist just in case.

Tilly walked over to the window, unlocking it and pushing it out. She made sure not to slip on the slanted roof. Since it was pretty high up, she climbed down something that was attached to the gutter of the house. Once she reached a part that she could just jump off, she did.

Even though Tilly is still pretty young, she had gotten herself into some bad habits. Which includes smoking. She was always around cigarettes and smokers as a kid, which lead to curiosity. Which then lead to Tilly buying packs that were 'for her dad' from their local store.

But, anything to make her feel better, right?

Like going on walks at night.

INTRUDER|chris chambersWhere stories live. Discover now