Demonic

Chapter 13

I flinch as something bangs against the window. I stop my task of scrubbing a stubborn stain off the wall, confusion temporarily freezing me. After a couple seconds, silence fills the house once again.

Perhaps it was just a bird. They have been known to do incredibly stupid things like fly into windows. I know there's a reflection of the forest in the glass but wouldn't they notice the other bird that's flying straight towards them?

With a shake of my head, I continue to drag the cloth against the plaster, small dints and flaking paint turning its surface rough.

The other night I had gone back into town and broken into a store. After stealing cleaning supplies- and some fancy new clothes- I headed back up to the house and started scrubbing. I had cleaned through the night and into the morning, making sure not to miss a single spot.

I jump when I hear a ting again. A small tapping noise that is going to drive me insane.

There's a splat against the wall. The cloth that was in my hand, slides down the plaster I threw at it, a wet line trailing down the surface as the cloth slumps down onto the floor in a damp heap.

There's another tap. On stiff legs,
I step outside the room. It's placed on the top floor, the biggest out of them all and, therefore, I have dubbed it as mine. Not that I'm sharing the house with anyone so technically all the rooms are mine.

I walk towards the stairs when my leg falters and the ground seems to stretch towards my face. I shriek as I almost face plant, catching myself in the last second. A bucket of dirty water lies innocently in the middle of the hallway. I scowl.

I should have stored away all the cleaning supplies. Dusters, cloths, sponges and killer buckets of brown water are located wherever. Admittedly, the house does look better.

The old house is now a old, clean house.

It's still stripped of furniture and ornaments but at least I don't have to swim through pools of dust. If I get the time, I might be able to embrace my artistic streak and spice up these dead walls.

From somewhere outside the house, there's yet another ting. Approaching the front, I peek out the window and onto the front lawn, overgrown and uncared for. A group of teenage boys, no older than thirteen, stand before the house. They pick up rocks from the dirt road and throw them at the building.

The pebbles bounce of the wood creating that annoying sound. A young boy picks up a rock and throws it at the kitchen window. The object hits the glass and cracks expand outwards like a spiders wed.

That little shit!

I had just finished cleaning up shattered glass from the kitchen after I attempted to turn on an old light switch. The damn light bulb had exploded on me and now I'm too nervous to test any other electrical appliances in this house.

I think anything beyond running water is testing the limits.

I toss open the front door and stomp down the steps. They creek under my weight but hold firm.

The three boys jump at the sight of me, pebbles from the road falling from their hands.

Daylight still touches the land. There is still half an hour till sunset but the sky is already beginning to fade into light blues and oranges. The trees stretch their limbs across the sky blocking out most of the sun, giving it a nighttime feel.

"What the fuck do you think your doing!" I screech. I march towards them ready to shove those rocks down their throats.

They stare at first, wondering where the fuck I must have come from. The tallest boy, with a mass of curly brown hair, speaks first.