Such A Small Thing

Pages 18 to 19

"I don't know. I haven't tried to open it yet."

"Well," she sighs,"I guess we'll have to try and open it now."

I pause for a moment before saying anything. "H, if you really don't want to go, we don't have to. We can stay here."

She looks down again and I see a tear run down her cheek. I lower myself down to her height.

"Hey, don't cry."

She sinks to her knees and into my lap. "Just don't make me have to go through this place alone again. I don't like being alone," she says, her voice cracking.

I hesitate before I put my hand on her head. "If we find a way out, we'll find it together. You won't have to be by yourself in this place again."

She looks up at me, her eyes filled with tears. "I just want to go home."

"Yeah, I do too," I say and pat her head. "But the only way to do that is to keep going."

"Yeah," she says and wipes her eyes with her sleeve,"I know."

She sighs and stands up, and I do too. We walk over to the door and I try to twist the doorknob. It actually turns.

"You ready?" I ask.

"Not really, but I have to go sometime or another."

I open the door all the way and this time the hallway is purple, and there's a mannequin head beside the door.

"Okay, that's creepy," I say. H says nothing.

We walk to the end of the hall and there's a mirror. We stand in front of it and I realize how much shorter than me H really is. She has a straight face on. A face that says nothing.

I blink and feel as if there's something behind me, but I don't check because I know there's nothing behind me. There can't be. I'm just paranoid is all.

I blink again and it takes me a moment to realize that the mannequin head is on my right shoulder. My face contorts in fear and I jump back and the mannequin head falls to the floor.

I go to kick it but am interrupted by H. "Garry, it's just a mannequin head. You don't need to kick it."

I pause then answer while rubbing the back of my neck in embarrassment, "Yeah, you're right, H. That was a little childish of me."

She laughs the tiniest bit. "Yeah, it was."

We turn the corner and am met with a hall full of mirrors and some paintings with eyes that seem like they follow us.

H grabs the edge of my coat and stays close to me. I guess this place is getting to her. It probably already did.

We walk through the hallway of mirrors and I try not to look at them. H has buried her head in my coat. I guess the mannequin head scared her more than she let on.

"It feels like they're staring at us," she says, her voice muffled by my coat.

"I'm sure they aren't," I say even though I can feel that they're staring at us. This place creeps me out. When we get out, I am never going back to the museum.

We come to the end of the hallway and there's another mirror. I can't help but look in it. It shows all the paintings and mirrors behind us, and all of the paintings' eyes are looking at us.

I force myself to look away and turn the corner.

This hallway is green and at the end of it are the evil paintings that come alive and chase you. They all turn towards us and my heart starts thumping wildly.

I grab H's hand and run in the other direction. H doesn't question why and runs with me, struggling to keep up. We won't get away fast enough like this.

I scoop her up in my arms like I did on the stairs and bolt, running as fast as I can.

As I run I feel the eyes of more paintings watch us and hear my feet pounding against the floor, and the frustrated screams of the evil paintings.