The Hallway

Chapter 1- A Normal Morning

January 1, 1984 - 2:57 A.M. - Flashback

I remember it like it was just yesterday. It was January 1, 1984, my age was 3. I was in my room. The walls were white, and I had pink and white plaid bedding. My teddy bear sat in the corner of my bed, where it always was. My furniture was wooden. My dad made it for me when I was a baby. Its still in my room to this day. It was almost 3 in the morning. I had been woken up a few times to the sound of slow, heavy footsteps. I had fallen back asleep by this time and I was sound asleep when I heard it. BANG. The sound of a gunshot. Loud and clear as day. I shot up from my bed, tears streaming down my face. I immediately ran to my parents bed. I was so little, I didn't know any better.

I woke up my parents and they searched the house. They found nothing and they told me to stay in their room tonight. My dad stayed up all night, making sure our house was safe. I remember waking up the next morning, back in my room. It was as if I never went to my parents room that night. I still don't understand why. Everything the next day was...normal. I asked my mother in my squeaky, 3 year old voice what had happened last night and she told me nothing had happened. I told her everything I remembered and she looked at me like I was crazy. That was the first time I can recall a weird occurrence.

September 18, 1996 - 6:00 A.M. - Present Day

It was early in the morning. I rolled out of my bed. The wooden floors were cold, making my toes scrunch up. I forced myself to go downstairs. I hadn't had to get up this early in awhile. Since I had never gone to school before, my mom normally didn't wait me up until 7:30 A.M. It was 6:00. Exhausted, I opened my door and was greeted by the usual creak. My cat, Victoria, walked past my door. She was a black cat, and she was 14 years old. My family has had her for as long as I could remember. The cat hated me though. She ignored me, like the rest of the world.

I started down the long, steep, creaky wooden stairs. Our house had been built in the early 1800's. With every step, the stairs creaked. I remember going in to the kitchen to the smell of eggs, a daily routine I had. My mother, Mary, would always make eggs and oat meal, and we would sit at our old wooden table. We did this when we used to live in Kansas too. Except, there always would be 3 chairs, one for my dad...but that chair hasn't been there since he passed away. She always kept one sunflower in the middle. When that one died, she would immediately pick a new one from her garden and put it in the vase. My mother loved gardening. I never understood it. When something died, you didn't just replace it, did you?

This morning was different than usual. Unlike normal mornings, after we ate I had to rush to school. I took a bite of my eggs. I wasn't hungry, but my mother would be upset with me if I didn't eat the eggs. I managed to stomach a few bites. We ate there in silence. It was... weird. We normally always talk. Today felt different. I couldn't put my finger on why. "Addison," I snapped out of the daze I was in, looking down at my plate. Porcelain, lined with pink flowers and gold around the rim. The same china we've always had.

"Yes mother?" I replied. "I've called your name 5 times young lady, what has gotten into you?" I moved my fork around in my eggs, trying to come up with a reply. I shrugged. "I don't know mother, I guess I'm just nervous." My mother nodded and glanced over at the clock. She put her fork down on her plate and straightened herself up. She let out a sigh and said, "Well, it looks like its time to get you off to school now." We stood up and put our plates in our sink. I ran my hand across the peeling wallpaper as I walked to the door.

I picked up the brown leather backpack that used to be my fathers work bag. I began to put the textbooks inside that the school had given us. As I loaded them up, my fists began clenching. I felt the urge to do something... something... violent. My face was clenching up as I was trying to avoid the feeling. I think my mother could tell something was wrong.

Mother came over to me and gave me a hug. "Everything will be alright, Addie." I suddenly felt water drip down on my head. I looked up and pulled away from my mothers grip. "Mother, why are you crying?" I asked, concerned. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I don't have the money and I'm sorry that I don't have the time. I'm sorry I have to send you to school and I'M SORRY YOUR FATHER DIED." She began crying hysterically.

Suddenly, something happened. My eyes widened and locked on my mothers face and my body began to shake. A vision of my fathers death played in front of my eyes. My mother backed away slightly and asked me what was wrong. All I said was, "Mother, its not your fault..." It was in that moment when I realized....

Something was wrong with me.