The Bold & Bruised

Hide & Seek

The room was cold and damp. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath my feet, one foot on the ground the other hovering just above in the air, balancing as the water soaked around my other foot like a sponge being wrung out. I grimaced. Disgusted.

The once flooded floor grew mould beneath its bearings; deep down into the house, growing and festering beneath...keen to hide from all-seeing eyes.

A massive THUD stopped me in my tracks. My quiet and gentle footsteps halted. I held my breath in anticipation, waiting with worry. My heart beating fast in my chest, so loud my ears made a whooshing sound as the blood ran to my head. I crouched down slowly, fingers splaying apart on the hard surface. I paused and waited
                    and waited
                                         and waited to see if I could hear angry footsteps barreling towards me. There was silence.

An eerie silence that unnerved me, made my heart flutter with panic. My nervous system triggered; in a flight of emotions I tiptoed, as if walking on eggshells, towards a large solid oak wardrobe, like the one in The Lion, the witch and the wardrobe placed ominously in the corner of the room. If it wasn't for the fear coursing through my body, I would have smiled with nostalgic reflection at the thought of cosy winter coats, delicious hot chocolate, friendly mythical creatures and blush-pink Turkish delight.

Unfortunately, just like the book/movie, an evil lurked just around the corner... I reached my arm gingerly out from my side, teeth clenched, bracing myself for the door to creak loudly as I turned a tiny, rusty black key.

A soft click that was almost soothing bestowed a sound to my ears. The door opened, gliding smoothly and slickly. The door, well oiled, did not even make the tiniest peep as it opened. I let out my breath I didn't realise I was still holding. But as quick as I exhaled, I took a breath, terrified of jinxing myself.

I put one dewdrop foot into the wardrobe, then another as I climbed in delicately. Much to my dismay, there was no big, thick, wool coat for me to snuggle up in, but a ratty, mothball-eaten, hole-y net of a blanket- if you could even call it that.

Regardless, I picked it up, rubbing the rough-raggedness between my thumb and forefinger. I sat down in the corner, the furthest away from the now closed wardrobe door.

Strangely, I found comfort within the fabric. I slowly wrapped it around my body, as if it was a shawl. I imagined it being a warm winters coat. I could almost feel the warmth and softness against my skin. The scratchiness of the mothball blanket felt like sharp, stabbing pokes; pine needles, pin-pricking my skin. I coaxed myself into stepping away...stepping away from the world for just a moment; retreating, barricading myself away, hidden, hoping I was safe for now...

10:44pm Mon 20th May 2024.