Are the doors unlocked?

[Part 1] 7/29/2021: Where am I?

This place gives me chills every time I think about it. I really thought I was going to die and my body would never be found. Now, at least, I know that if something happens to me, I'll have some company in heaven. Let's begin.

I've suddenly woke up. The only clock in the room says it's 2:34 am. I don't feel my arms; my legs are struggling to put me on my feet.

''Where am I?'' My mind asks all the time, constantly fighting against my will. It looks like an asylum, have I become crazy? From what I can see, the room is dark, there is no one here, no one left for me. All I see is a little window with spider webs on it; I can barely see through it.

I start to hear footsteps outside of the room, those things are laughing. Why would they be laughing? Is it because of my weaknesses? Am I a prisoner of my own body?

It's 2:36 am now; my legs are finding some strength to get me up.

2:40 am. I am standing now. I have the worst headache ever... My mind is trying to help me, to remember what brought me here.

7/29/2021: 3:00 am

I see, on the top of my bed, a photo. It was a peculiar photo. It was taken, it said, in 1987. I saw myself there, with my childish figure, with a messed up childhood and a dysfunctional family.

In the photo I begin to see people, some I remember, others do not appear anywhere deep in my memory. I manage to differentiate, among all those people, my sister, where is she now? I can feel her presence, as if it was a mental connection, but I am not completely sure. There were my parents, I don't remember their names, but I remember their exhausted figures trying to raise a slight smile for the photo.

Besides them, I see other people; some of them have disturbing images that maybe I have seen before. Then, I start to remember.

7/29/2021: 3:23 am

Slowly and progressively, I put efforts to remind myself who I really am.

My name, if I'm not wrong, is Aaron Moore, I'm 47. I used to live in Piedmont, California. My family had an acceptable house, we weren't rich but we used to have a comfortable life.

My sister was my confidant. We used to spend all night playing video games and telling us secrets; secrets that could go from innocent to creepy. It was a great relationship, better than I used to have with my actual friends; I wonder where they are... maybe they are dead, I hope they are.

Our parents weren't as good people as I can remember. My father used to abuse my sister, more mentally than physically, but we never told our mother, we were truly afraid. Every time we tried to tell her, we used to find her drunk and high, it was a frustrating situation. My mum had been cleaned for 3 years, but sadly, drugs came after her again, losing her battle with sobriety.

All this was way back to 1990. Drugs and alcohol were everywhere. My street used to be full of horrific people, some of them were pretending to be nice, but most of them were like the living dead.

3:33 am. I'm starting to hear noises coming from the walls again, why is this happening to me?

7/29/2021: 3:33 am

A blood-curdling sound is coming now again. It is similar to a high-pitched sound screeching against the wall, and it seems like it could reach you at any moment.

That sound, including apparitions that would scare anyone to death, were nightmares that extended for one week. One week in which neither I nor my sister could close our eyes to have some rest. A week where we would go from the tranquility of a family pretending to be happy to hell brought to earth.

That fateful night, my sister and I were alone, our parents had gone out to eat and drink, like every day. There was never any money in the house; because it was always spent on their drinking addictions. I'd like to tell you what happened now, but it's better for me to remember attentively, without passing on details.

Those sounds are storming my head. How can I get out of here?

7/29/2021: 3:35 am

I'm starting to hear it again, like when I was 16. Her voice hasn't changed; it feels like it wants to penetrate the sound barrier, singing the lullaby that stills perturbing me to this day every time I think about it.

Like that afternoon, I start to feel her fingers making contact with my shoulders, the atmosphere becomes cold, three decades have passed and the same texture of her fingers runs down my back.

I start sweating, remembering that afternoon where I saw her for the first time. I don't want to cry, I want to be stronger than her. Fear takes over me, when I feel the sound barrier breaking, and I hear her trying to tell me something.

I feel a whisper in my ear: "Don't you dare", she says. When I feel the fingers move off my shoulders, the atmosphere returns to its former, a kind of rough state, and the feeling of having her fingers making contact with my skin has faded.

''Don't you dare'', what did she mean? Was it a signal to transport me back to that week of hell?

7/29/2021: 3:45 am

I feel like an owl, desperate to get out of here. I start to look around me, I know this room perfectly but it is as if someone has erased my memory. Screams are heard in the room next to mine.

The picture of my family, which for some reason is on the wall above my bed, as if one way or another they are trying to look at me from a high point, brings back memories of something I thought I had forgotten, but which automatically floods my thoughts.

I see a bedside table with a drawer, next to the bed where I've been sleeping for the last 31 years, some pills I can see on top of it. I stretched out my arm and opened it.

(The drawer, with the sound of old cracked wood, is opened)

I found a pencil and an unused book I have never seen there before, as if something wanted me to record what happened to us in that mysterious week. I need to recover those almost forgotten memories. I need to show what happened; I have to, in case somebody finds this.

When I'm trying to figure out how to write the first few lines, I see both of them standing in front of me, as they used to do more than 30 years ago. I can't make out their figures, as they are covered by some dark specter, making it impossible to distinguish their faces. Although I can't see them, I know who they are, and why they are here, looking deeply at me.

They both approach me; I can only see the gleam in their eyes. They bring their faces close to mine, and I can feel the fluidity of the air as they breathe on me.

They both shout, in a high-pitched way, ''DON'T YOU DARE!'', just like what she said a few minutes ago when she touched my back for the first time after so many years.

''I will'' I tell them, in a trembling way. And I feel that my body starts to burn. I start to feel my skin being hurt, and I hear how these figures come out of the room, laughing and somehow mocking me.

As soon as I hear the door of the room close, I feel no more pain in me. My skin no longer burns and I feel fine. I made a relieved expression, somehow or other everything that happened has to be known.

A part of my inner self is telling me to stop, that I shouldn't keep writing. I feel I'm running out of time, but if I don't do it now, I would never do it. If I don't do it now, then when?

The sound of the graphite of my pencil pressing against the first sheet of paper begins to make itself present.