Up in the Attic

Chapter 1

      I ventured back to the brick house. I could hardly call it home but it was a physical roof over my head, so I couldn’t complain.

       As the sun made it’s way to kiss the horizon I breathed in the cooling muggy air of summer. My long dark hair stuck to the back of my neck, and my bare arms and legs glowed in the flame-like setting sun. I fancied taking these long walks. It was my way to , to forget even for a little while. As I approached the brick house with it’s grit covered windows and mussed shingles, it was like awakening from a hazy dream. Like having to get up from a cozy bed and my feet were hitting the icy floor. I took one last look at the neighborhood. It was no suburbia. There were no white picket fences, or emerald, manicured lawns. Every house was just like the brick house. Broken. But at this time of day, in the light, they looked peaceful. Beautiful.

     When I walked through the door a voice called from the living room, “Eve! You’re back!” My landlord, Brian’s, scruffy voice was slurred, his words drawled out. I could imagine him already, beer in hand. Sure enough I entered the living room to see his rotund figure reclined in his armchair, sipping from a bottle. Brian took me in after his wife left him and he needed help paying bills, but mostly for the company I thought. Most of the time I’d find him in the same position. In the living room bottle in hand, staring at a blank tv screen watching nothing at all. The empty bottles were piling up on the old coffee table, and the pungent smell of alcohol made my eyes water as I suppressed a gag.

     “Hey Brian,” I said.

     “Heeeyyyy, gorgeous,” he drawled with a lazy smile slapped on is face. I rolled my eyes.

     “Brian, how much have you had to drink?” I asked, not accusingly, with a slight smile on my face.

     “Only…this many.” He waved a single finger around limply. I sighed. I never had a problem with Brian’s drinking. He was harmless enough; in fact we were alike in some ways. We both had things we wanted to forget.

      The glass bottles that were consuming the coffee table helped him forget his wife, and it kept him off my back and at arm’s length. A win, win situation.

     I went up the dingy, carpeted stairs, to my bedroom. It was basically a closet, my single bed consumed one wall, my tiny dresser taking up the space beside it. I was left with a bare rectangle of stained carpet beneath my window. Despite all of that, I loved my room. It faced west, so that even when I was in the confines of the house I could have my taste of bliss. I stood watching the sunset out of the square window, dipping beneath the horizon casting the world into night.

     It was dark, nothing but black and the velvet of shadows. This nightmare was one that had haunted me since I was little. While most six year olds wept over grotesque monsters with fearsome, rumbling growls, it was the feeling of nothing that was worse than fear. But unlike my other nightmares a light interrupted the dark void. White, like distant starlight burned away the darkness, like a flame eating away at a sheet of paper. Although the bright light resembled what I thought of as heavens light all it did was replace the emptiness, not fill it. All it did was make me lonelier. In the dark I could believe that I was not alone and that there were others hiding in the shadows. The light revealed the ugly truth that there was nothing.

     But my dreams being like an endless supply of characters and ever-changing scenery, it didn’t stop at that. A girl of ivory skin and shimmering gray blue eyes was all of a sudden standing right in front of me. Her long blonde waves were billowing around her face in a breeze I couldn’t feel. She was eerily beautiful, like an angel in her plain white night gown. This was how I like to remember my sister. Just as I was sure that this nightmare had turned into a dream I watched as my sister Olivia began to wither. Her skin retracted to hug her frail skeleton, and grayed like ash. Her hair turned to sickly gray wisps slinging to her skull.  Her eyes were protruding from her head, their glassy gray colour concealed under a milky film. Ashes rained down from above as if to signify the remains of my sister’s deceased life. Olivia reached out with her bony corpse hand as if to touch my face. I didn’t shy away, and, she didn’t touch my cheek either. Her fingers were outstretched, poised for contact but were frozen in midair. The presence that she carried with her that pulled me out of my loneliness was slipping away, and, I could feel the void returning. The ashes continued to fall forming a thick layer around my feet, and gathered in my hair, along with the reminiscent smell of smoke. They fell thicker and thicker forming sheets in midair, isolating me off from the corpse of my sister. Through the ash she sill stood frozen, but her dead lips moved robotically to from two distinctive words.

FIND ME.

     I woke up startled to the lulling tones of the doorbell. Some how I had collapsed into my bed and fallen asleep. The springs dug into my side as I got up. The sky was a deepening shade of blue outside coating everything in my room with navy satin. By now I imagined Brian had passed out, so I couldn’t count on him answering the door.

      When I swung open the chipped, white painted door I was surprised to find a boy that looked no older than eighteen.

     “Are you Evelyn West?” he asked running his fingers through his tousled, sandy blonde hair. I cringed at hearing my full name, then suddenly I could feel heat in my cheeks. Why was I acting this way? I felt stupid for standing there like an idiot, taking in his lean muscles and dazzling hazel eyes. I even felt my stomach drop as I realized my hair probably looked like it had been mauled by crows. Ever since I found Brian I dropped out of school. It had been awhile since I’d seen anyone around my age, let alone a very attractive boy. I wanted to smack myself for acting so stupid.

     “Yeah, that’s me,” I snapped. I wanted that feeling to go away, it was messing with my head. The sooner he left the better.

     “Then I guess this is for you,” he said handing me a package about the size of a shoebox. I was too caught up staring at him I hadn’t even noticed he was holding it the whole time.

     “Thanks.” I caught a glimpse of his eyes. Bad move. I found myself choking on my own words, like I was swallowing my tongue.

     “No, problem,” he said softly. He wore a quirky sort of smile; his lips pulled taught, with corner pulled slightly up. It suited his soft, boyish features. I saw it disappear as he turned to walk down the paved driveway, and I shut the door before I was trapped staring again.

     I leaned against the door, the coolness soothing through the thin fabric of my white tank top. I exhaled trying to shove away that frivolous girl. A year ago I promised myself I wouldn’t be her. I couldn’t be her, not anymore.

Hey!

I know that it's been a long time since I posted my prologue...I really hope this chapter was worth the wait :)

I'm gonna try to get on a regular posting schedule, so the next part should be up on Monday..if not I give you persmission to send me angry messages<3