Red Room |18+|

♤Ghost past♤.

        .....Ari....

      ......26.....

Darkness is something I’ve come to fear, distrust, misuse and admire. Excitement and anticipation fills my blood with every step as I descend the stairs, quietly, trying not to wake mama and papa up from their sleep. I walk in the darkness, trying to navigate it with just the tiny bear flashlight mama gifted me when I was three years old. When my sister started crying and requesting for the cookies I just had to get it for her. Maybe an older brother superhero complex? I’m not sure, but all I know as I walk down the stairs is that I have to bring back the treasure and put a smile on her sweet face. I get to the kitchen and walk to the cupboard that mama keeps the cookie jar in.

I can’t reach the jar. My body too small, my height too short for how far it is . I get a bright idea to climb the kitchen stools. A brave boy, trying to get cookies for his 3 year old sister.

I don’t remember how it happens but I slip and before I realise, my head connects with the cold tile floor, and in the dark I see thick crimson liquid splattered across the white marble floor of our kitchen. I start to loose my vision, as my eyes close I see dad. It’s his blood, not mine.
“Dad.” I whisper, desperately trying to make sense of the situation...How?” I ask to no one in particular,  then I look closely,  then I see mom standing over his dead body.

"Mom".. "Mom".... I whisper, my voice soft and distant. She hears me and turns around but I see hallow eyes, devoid of emotion,  just darkness, a darkness that engulfs us. A darkness I thought i conquered now devoured me. It swallowed and spat me out, even laughed at my face. A shuddered breath escape my lips, I look and they are gone.

-----------------------------

I blink once, twice and I see bright chandelier lights, bright and piercing. My eyes hurt from the unfamiliarity of the light as my eyes make an effort to adjust to the blinding brightness. I wonder how long was I unconscious, feeling a weakness making me realise it has been a while. I hear distant shuffling and voices that whisper to each other.

“Evie... he is waking up.” An unfamiliar voice says and I start to take in my environment, realising the pounding headache I have. I try to sit up but my body is in so much pain from the several days of physical torture I received from Anika, that it feels nearly impossible. But that is the least of my problems, Anika is not my problem, Evie is. I hate the emotional side rollercoaster we are on, I hate the fact that she has made me feel things I never felt for anyone or wished to feel. I hear distant footsteps as she comes closer to the bed I’m lying on, and then I see a blurry image of her as she hovers above me her soft and intoxicating scent filling my nostrils. And almost immediately the room reminds me of our last encounter several weeks ago.

She sits on the bed, close enough to see me but far enough to give me space. “How are you feeling?” She asks, her voice quiet and mild, soothing even. I grunt as I try to sit up and she reaches to help but I glare at her and she stops, allowing me to do it my own. Pillows are placed under me to help support me up.

Immediately I settle comfortably on the pillow I look directly at her. “Between getting tortured physically and emotionally by two women who will destroy just about anyone in their path just to get what they want..... I think I’m I’ve seen better days.” I say as I feel some bitterness in my mouth. She smiles slowly and nods, clamping her mouth shut.
“look... Evie doesn’t deserve this attitude, not when she went into the lion’s den to-“ her friend, I presume, starts but speaks and interrupts her.
“Cara stop. “ Evie cuts the brown haired girl off, rolling her eyes at her over her shoulders, the girl, Cara as I hear Evie call her, gives me a hard glare and folds her hands against her chest. “But Evie he-“ She tries to continue “Didn’t I just say keep quiet?” Evie stops her again, gritting out the last words. She turns back to me and gives me a half smile, filled with distinct sadness. Or guilt, I’m not quite sure. “Get some rest. Abigail will bring you food soon.” She turns to me and says. She stands up, grabs her friend by the hand and they both walk out. I hear the voices fade away down the hall. I get up from the bed, and walk to the floor to ceiling glass window, taking in the view of the vast green area. I see a cute garden on the left side of the land, littered with all kinds of flowers, ranging from white roses, to white lilies.