The Attic

Chapter 9 - Sanity

                For me to accomplish the cathedral plan, I needed to make sure that I would hear neither chains nor footsteps. The only distraction I’d allow myself was Camille.

                A four-legged creature came down the stairs with alternating steps. I felt the cylindrical can in the paper bag I held and saw my cat’s tail standing to its end, as if aware that I brought home a treat. Shaken still, it jumped me again, transforming my lap into a cozy bed. I never saw its retractable claws ever since I rescued it from its probably natural habitat, which I thought to be a sign that it liked me already. I rudely interrupted its motionlessness when I stood up and went to the kitchen.

                Sorry kitty, but I got to prepare your meal.

                It was my first time to provide a cat with an actual food. My dad never allowed me to spend more than what he thought our pets deserved back when he was still amongst the living. Our dogs and cats ate the same thing – leftovers. I wasn’t used to presenting my animal friends what I could call a decent meal, so I steamed some rice grains to be mixed with what I bought. While waiting for the boil, I learned that my cat was a female. It waited anxiously as the steam from the pot filtered the light coming through the window into a haze.

                I forgot to buy Marla her own dish. Marla was the name I gave my fluffy friend. I was sick of referring to the cat as an “it” rather than a “her”. As I poured the steamed grain and fish flakes into a plastic plate I sacrificed, I watched her munch in delight. I left her and went upstairs to freshen up.

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                I pulled a towel out of the closet whose mystery I was yet to solve. The lock was still bothersome, and I feared that it would only return to its broken state if I attempted to replace it again, so I left it the way it was and proceeded to the shower. No point in provoking things to prove that I’m crazy.

                I stretched the curtains and turned the transparent switch on, hearing afterwards the familiar sound of water jetting out of the shower, feeling the cool liquid against my skin. Under the continuous revitalizing bath, I lathered some shampoo onto my scalp and massaged it as I kept my mind busy thinking of an entirely different matter. Camille would come in between thoughts, but so did the weird things I’ve been experiencing as of late.

                Suds of soap suddenly got into my eye, causing a stinging sensation under my eyelids. I was quick to cope with the irritation, rubbing my eyes constantly under the continuous pour of water. It was then in the middle of scratching my eyes when I caught a glimpse of the shower curtain to my left, and the shadowy figure standing behind it.

                I saw it one to two times before I hugged the walls, the cold bathroom tiles becoming in contact with my naked back. My vision was still a little distorted, but my instinct led me to withdrawing towards the wall so that the shower was in the middle of me and the silhouette. In a blink of an eye, the shadow that startled me vanished as I fully regained my sight, but my heart remained racing like a desperate horse as I stood frozen, my knees still hesitant to move. I pulled the curtain to the side, sliding the rings that held it across a bar at one end. The shadow casted onto the synthetic material of the curtain belonged to nobody, for I was alone.

                Nervous, I wiped myself half dry and darted outside, sprinting to my room drenched. Although having just taken a bath, I could feel my sweat forming on my forehead, rendering the shower I took pointless. I shut the door behind me and hurriedly put on some clothes. Majority of horror movies I have watched explained the meaning of fear to the protagonists at night. On the contrary, it was a very bright noon when I found myself panting like a dog, having ran wrapped in a towel by the waist along the corridor that separated my room to the bathroom.

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                Whatever haunted me was slowly breaking me down. It had to stop. I was hungry for some answers, thinking that knowing the reasons as to why I’m tormented would help me put an end to all this madness.

                There was one possible way to find out. The key, I thought, must have kept itself intentionally hidden within the words of the one that came before. One who doesn’t know how to look back would never reach his destination, bound to repeat the mistakes of the past.

                Looking at the diary, I went over to my bed and began to read once more.