Behind Closed Doors

Chapter 3

Riley's POV

I open up the window in the attic, looking down at the ground far beneath me. I took a deep breath and slowly climbed out and onto an overhang that was under the window. I climbed down an old ladder that was leaning against the houses and started walking to the graveyard.

The graveyard was a short walk from my house. I just needed to be there for five minutes, at the least, and then I can sneak back into the attic like nothing happened.

I pass the gray headstones, marked with names that I don't know. My mother and sister's grave was near the back. I pass graves with flowers, real and artificial. Some have little statues like angels or God. Some have little solar lights.

But there was nothing by my mother and sister's. They were bare. Only a cheap headstone each to mark the grave. I cross my arms, staring at the graves. I wasn't into the whole hearted talks, telling my deseased family all about what's going on in my life right now.

I stare at the graves for a good five minutes before I turn around again and walk out of the cemetery.

I start walking down the side walk, back to my house, when I hear a voice behind me.

"Hey Riley!" The same voice that said the exact same thing to me today calls out. I turn around and wait till James had caught up to me.

"Hi." I mumble. "What are you doing out this late?"

"Just went for a walk, to clear my mind, y'know. What about you?" He asks. I sigh.

"I came to visit my mother and sister." I reply, gesturing to the graveyard.

"Oh, yeah. I'm really sorry about that. I didn't know." He tells me, giving me an apoplectic look. I shrug.

"Not your fault. Things happen, right?" I mumble, crossing my arms.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He responds. He smiles weakly at me, as our eyes lock. He leans closer, arms open wide to hug me, but I quickly step back.

"I'll see you tomorrow at dance." I mutter before I run back home.

~~~~~

I climb through the window and settle down in my 'bed'. I pull the blanket over my shoulder and snuggle down, trying to get warm. It was always so cold in the attic. You'd think that I had gotten used to it by now, but I never.

My mind kept going back to that boy James. Was it possible that maybe he actually liked me?

Wait, I can't even think that. Even if he did somewhat like me, I couldn't like him back. I'm not allowd to like him back.