Survive the Backrooms

Chapter 1 : Liam

Mom's voice rang in my ears. "Come on Lulu, it'll be a fresh start, a way to get away from everything."

Fresh start my ass. Storm clouds brewed above my head, threatening to spill at any moment. The ocean crashed wildly against jagged rocks, coating everything in a salty mist. Looking down made my world swirl.

The cute sea side village quickly turned to panic as the black clouds drew closer and closer to the cliffs we had just moved to. People in brightly colored jackets and umbrellas rushed everywhere, trying to get their last chore done before locking themselves up inside. Nobody noticed me ducking into the abandoned trail.

What if I slip? My mind was suddenly filled with images of me lurching forward, crashing into the inky black water. Mossy rocks made the ground slippery, and the salty ocean spray didn't do much to help. My stomach seemed to churn with the waves as I gripped tighter onto the rope. My thoughts raced with the waves. Why was I doing this again? Mom would rip me to shreds if she found out where I was, or more specifically, who I was meeting up with.

My phone buzzed, interrupting my thoughts. Probably just Mom wondering where the hell I was, or the new group chat. Either way, there was no way in hell I was letting go of this rope to see what it was.

. Don't look down.

My stomach swirled with my vision as I felt the salty mist hit my exposed ankle. Gasping slightly, I set my foot down on the path again.

How did I end up in this situation? If only I hadn't answered that stupid text.

"Lulu." Mom snapped me out of the fog. "Grab a box." She snapped her fingers again. "This house isn't going to furnish itself."

The box scraped against my arm as I hauled it inside our new house. The stale air smelled dusty with a hint of mold. How much had Mom spent on this dump again? Setting the box down on the dirty tiles I looked around. Moth-eaten curtains hung over windows that had such a thick film over them that even the sun couldn't shine through. Not a single surface in this house wasn't covered in dust.

"Cleaning supplies!" Mom set a box down, setting off a cloud of dust. "I'll handle the boxes, you get to clean." Mom gave one of her fake smiles.

"Will we even have enough cleaning supplies for this?" I looked around. I miss my nice clean bedroom.

"If we don't, I'll use your toothbrush." Mom half joked. "Get moving girl." The word stung like a slap across the face.

Grabbing a rag and bleach bottle from the box I sighed. Mom's eyes burned into my back as I sprayed the counter top, trying to ignore the piles of mouse poop. The smell of old grease hit me, and it took everything in me to not gag. I don't even want to think about the fridge.

I really tried to make the house look decent while Mom dragged in box after box, but it was almost impossible. Whoever lived here last must have never heard of cleaning. One look at the bathroom told me more about the previous owners then I would've liked to know.

"Did they leave behind prescriptions?" Mom asked, ducking her head into the grimy bathroom.

"Uh, no." I lied, cracking open the window.

"Damn." Mom turned, walking back to the living room. "I didn't expect it to be this filthy." She muttered.

I quickly grabbed the half full bottles of meds hidden behind the mirror and stuck them deep in the trash. Mom didn't need to know about it. Dusting myself off, I straightened myself up.

My reflection looked back at me through the mirror. One hand held my hair, the other a pair of scissors. Hair lay scattered all over the sink. Mom's ferocious eyes met mine. "Lulu. What did you do?" Tears bubbled in my eyes. "It's not Lulu. It's Liam." I screamed back, covering my ears with my hands. Mom's hand flew through the air before I could duck.

"Lulu!" Mom's voice jolted me from my memories. I looked away from the mirror.

"Yeah?"

"I said if you're done in there come help me set up the living room." She snapped.

Turning to click off the light I took one last look at myself. My hair hung around my head in jagged cuts. Mom refused to let me get it fixed.

"I like the curtains." I lied, joining Mom in the dimly lit room. She had replaced the moth eaten ones with some light blue ones. They gave a splash of color to this awful house.

"Sweep." Mom handed me a broom, gesturing at the dirty floor. "I'll mop after you. Robin messaged and said he's coming to help."

My heart jumped. "Robin?" I spun around. "Robin is here?"

"Yes." Mom crossed her arms. "Sweep girl, or I'll tell him not to come."

My heart pounded against my ribcage. How long has it been? Eight? No ten years since we'd last seen each other. I was six and he was eight when Mom sent him away. Nerves fluttered in my stomach, threatening to spill out.

"I told him to bring a couple mattress toppers." Mom came back with a bucket. "The mattresses are stained yellow."

I crinkled my nose. Mom and I never had much money, but we never let our house get this bad.

"I'm going to head to my room!" I called out to Mom, empting the dirt into the trash. Turning down the hallway, a wall of photos met my eyes. The cliffside we lived on, the beach, calm and quiet, the beach aggressive and violent, seashells, fish, boats, all kinds of things. The seaside village in the summer, the fall, people in shops, tourists.. Just everything.

"Twenty...twenty one.." How many pictures are there? They covered the hallway. Despite everything else being filthy, these pictures were in pristine condition, only a small bit of dust collecting on the thin wooden frames.

What is that? A picture in the corner caught my eye. It was far away from all the others, like someone had put it there to forget about it.

"They didn't take good care of this one at all." I spoke to myself, crouching down to see it. Scraping away the layers of dust with my arm. "A door?" I examined the picture. It was just a simple door, nothing special about it. It looked like it was on the side of the cliff, but long abandoned. It was different from the other pictures. More darker, and blurry. Someone had taken this picture in a hurry.

Mom's horrid singing voice interrupted my thoughts. She always sang while she cleaned, but her voice was terrible.

Moving back, a yellowed scrap of paper caught my eyes. Gingerly prying it out, I carefully unfolded it. A mess of scribbles met my eyes.

"The door. It's calling me. I see it in my dreams, I hear it in my mind. I want to go back there, I must. I visited the local library. The historical documents show that door leads to a bunker, a nuclear fallout shelter from the eighties, long abandoned. I must go and see."

"Watcha reading?" A man's voice called out from behind me. Gasping, I dropped the paper, falling to the ground. Looking up, I saw a flash of blueish green hair, and all too familiar dimples.

"ROBIN!" I jumped up, leaping into a hug. "Your hair!" I pulled back, touching the strands.

"Now you're both in the shitty hair club." Mom leaned against the wall, her arms crossed. I didn't even notice she had stopped singing, or that the door had opened to let in Robin.

"Mom.." Robin looked back. "I just got here, can we try to get along?"

"Whatever." Mom tried to seem sarcastic, but a genuine smile tugged at her lips.

A million questions swarmed my head, but I kept quiet. Robin had grown a lot. His mess of freckles had faded, leaving behind only a few. His tan skin had darkened, resembling his fathers. The deep brown eye color we shared was the same, but his face looked different. More strained. His eyes that used to be so full of life had dimmed a bit. His usual rusty brown hair was dyed, and he wore sneakers with cargo pants. His sweater was jet black, matching his painted nails. Besides a few small stolen conversations, we hadn't been able to talk much at all since the day he was sent away. He had changed, grown up and I wasn't there to see it.

"Let me grab your mattress topper, and we can head to your room." Robin winked at me, turning to face Mom.

I couldn't believe I was staring at him. My brother. He was here. Opening the door to my bedroom, I heard his voice ring throughout the house. Mom's laughter followed. For the first time, this house felt like home.