Elizabeth Dethroned

Shimmering Golden Doorknobs

| Chapter 2 |

Shimmering Golden Doorknobs
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My mind went numb as I longingly gazed beyond the fading horizon, my lips pressed against each other in thought. As the sun set slowly, my eyes latched onto the bright colors of purple, yellow, orange, and blue. Stars began to glow when the moon finally set its place in the sky, and the street lights came on shortly after. "Closing in Five!" The woman from before shouted angrily. Was it time to go? Could I face it? "Please be out by then!" The shop was to close soon anyways. The morning next was supposed to be this 'big thing.'

I grabbed my bag and umbrella, gripping my purse strap tightly. The smell of coffee and cinnamon filled my lungs as I passed the register toward the glass door. I pushed it open gently. Bold words stood horizontally, etched in the thick glass neatly. "Have a good day!" I heard one of the café workers shout. "Please, come again!" Another voice called, and they both had the same fake happiness that the barista owned. I could see that it hurt her heart as she kept those white teeth smiling. 

As I walked out, I smelled the wet grass and flourishing pines, dreading my future. Everything ahead was negative and full of hatred and guilt. The moon shone over my head as the white and gray glow illuminated my skin. Cars raced past, spraying the rainwater onto the sidewalk and me, like kids and a new pair of rain boots.

The drizzling rain turned to a sprinkle before slowing down further. My wet shoes dragged me down, and the thought of my family filled my mind as I stumbled up and down streets and side roads. I looked a couple of times, watching as stars began to shine alongside the ever-changing moon, its infinite cycle evident by the crescent shape it held together. It was sickening the things such a beautiful night sky had under it, the chaotic happenings split between picket fences and smoothly paved driveways. 

The bustle of downtown was a great example of what a small but gorgeous town looked like. There was always something about the forest that was seemingly only found in fairy tales and fantasy fiction, giving me this swelling gut of happiness. I walked passed the still streets and clusters of thick trees to tell I had found street number fifty-six. Chilling air erased all need to sleep as the drowsiness fades to nothing. I could almost see my brother as he recklessly ran around the house, a classical 'I did something' smile splattered all over his pale face. 

The tapping sound of the soal of my shoes made me start to become synchronized as I felt myself go deeper into thought. Familiarizing myself with the houses, especially newer-looking ones, became the priority, as not getting lost again was a goal I was already planning to keep. A memory or two of my childhood came to me as I remained to hear my screams even years later. My cries for something familiar echoed off the thick trees, a heavy amount of leaves hanging down the branches neatly. 

Behind all the trees and shortcut grass, a tall house stood in the distance. The bright color brought off this feeling you'd want to avoid. This emotion lingered as its set off alarm bells in me. What was ahead of me? My heart screamed like I was brainless. I glared at the golden-colored doorknob as I held the heavily weighted key in my small hands. 

Hesitation outweighed all else. It was dark out, each window had been closed, and the lights turned off. Was this a good idea? Could I handle it? My mother never liked being awoken from her deep slumbers before. So at the moment, I had been pulling on some dangerously weak strings. I started to walk in the black of the night. I opened the old, cracked door as my lungs hitched with the heavy flow of good and bad emotions. 

My hands gripped the golden knob rightly, my fingerprints gripping it till the shine was smudged and my knuckles were white. Eyes squeezed shut, I opened the door slowly, bracing for the next moments that had never arrived. It was a miracle at work. The house was dead silent, and cold chills lingered as my small steps began through the halls.  

Stairs climbed toward the top floor of the house I once called home. The small sounds of a sleeping household were all I could hear over my raging thoughts. Frigid air through the home creates a set of goosebumps to follow. I opened another door slowly, less reluctantly, the dust flying as the creaking door finally stopped. Flipping the dim lights until they turned on, my drawers were still open, and desk papers were scattered around. My bedroom had not changed in the past ten years. 

The feeling of my soft bed reminded me how much I missed home despite my few memories. The comforting sheets help make a coma-type of slumber feel good. My eyes drifted heavily into a deep sleep, silence filling the void of nothing. After all this time, I was home.