Remember the Wallpaper?

Another short story :) Enjoy.
Words: 805

Genna walked slowly through the grand old house. Her mind wandered across the memories the building held. She had grown up in this old mansion in the countryside, an only child, sheltered from the outside world. Her wealthy parents had been more absent than they were present, and she had spent many long hours alone with only her nurse maid.

She had been ten years old when the new game keeper for the estate arrived. He had been a tall, quiet man, with a stern face and a graying mustache. With the new game keeper, came his thirteen year old son—Peter, though everyone called him Pit.

With a quiet smile, Genna ascended the spiraling staircase, running her hand along the smooth, dust coated railing. Pit quickly became her best friend. As the only two children on the estate, they had run wild with little supervision. The two years they spent together at the estate had been wonderful, blissfully unaware of the world beyond their doorsteps. Pit had been her best friend. Her only friend.

And that was why she was here now, ten years later, walking the abandoned halls and remembering the beauty of the simple life they had once known.

Those days seemed like a distant dream, lost to the bustle of life. She was in law school, on the path to being a wealthy defense attorney, and hadn’t given her childhood a second thought. That is, until the letter turned up on her doorstep—penned in simple black ink and square handwriting.

Remember the wallpaper? It wasn’t a dream. I’m back. Find me. –P 

Oh, she remembered . . . she remembered every horrifying detail. It had been a hot day in July when Pit had opened the door to the room her parents said was off limits. His blue eyes had been sparkling with mischievous glee. It was the ultimate game, disobeying her evasive parents, so she hadn’t objected to Pit’s plan. They were going to hide in the forbidden room and scare her parents, since no one would expect to find them in there.

Pit had led the way in, closing the door behind her. The room was dark and bare, lacking any windows or light fixtures. The floor was dark wood, dusty and untouched. The walls were closed in a beautiful pattern of dark, swirling wallpaper. They stood in the threshold for a moment, momentarily stilled by the roaring silence that dominated the room’s atmosphere.

Then Pit had walked forward, moving slowly and quietly as if any sudden movement would cause the entire room to collapse around them. He reached the far wall, and then looked back at her, his blue eyes wide.

“It’s just like my dream,” he whispered, terror evident in his voice. Then he reached out, and touched the wall. The wallpaper shifted, absorbing him. In an instant he was gone.

Genna ran to the door, screaming, and found it locked. She then fell to the floor, screeching and weeping until a house maid had found her several hours later. Her parents had immediately packed up and left after hearing Genna’s story. Everyone believed he had been kidnaped, and her childish mind had made up an explanation for his disappearance. Genna even started to believe it.

But now she knew better.

She was facing the doorway to that same room that had terrified her as a child and haunted her youth with nightmares. She drew in a deep breath, startled at how unnerved she was. With a trembling hand, she turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. It swung wide on rusty hinges, squeaking quietly.

She took a step into the cool room, finding it no different than her childhood memories. Her shoes clicked on the dusty wood floor as she took another cautious step into the room. Then she saw him, reclining against the wall directly ahead of her, obscured by the room’s shadows.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, she peered toward the figure, her heart thudding in her chest. “Pit?”

The figure straightened and took a step forward, “you came.”

She stared at the man, noticing the resemblance he had to the boy she had once known, “is it really you?”

He nodded and held out a hand, “it’s been a long time, Genna.”

“Yeah,” she hesitated, but took his hand, not sure what he wanted.

His blue eyes flashed in the dark as his hand closed around hers. Moving backwards, he drew her forward. His back hit the wall, and sank into it, the wallpaper absorbing him just as she remembered.

“Pit!” she exclaimed, but the wallpaper was absorbing her as he drew her forward. Panic rose in her chest for a blind moment, but she squelched it. Holding her best friend’s hand, she walked resolutely forward and into the unknown

© Copyright Charity K, 2013

Apologies

Wow, I guess it's been a while since I last posted!

I've been busy working on my novel and honestly completely forgot about my blog . . . until a couple days ago when my mom mentioned it to me. So, I'm sorry for my complete lack of dedication!

I'm halfway through my second time editing the fantasy adventure that I'm writing. The problem that I'm facing is that my writing has greatly improved since the first draft of this book--which I started writing when I was sixteen. So, in the editing process, I come across sections that are extremely . . . juvenile. Understandably, these sections take extra work and it has become a very time consuming process. Despite the amount of time I've been putting into it, I thoroughly enjoy the process.

Hardly a valid excuse for such negligence, but the only one I have. Perhaps I will post a section from my book in the near future.