Home Sweet Home

Chapter 3: The room

The cold tiles beneath my feet sent chills throughout my body; my body reacted to the coldness by a sudden jerk. Time seemed to stop, as I stood there staring down the hall. The light crawled out from under the door. That one light, was the only light in the hall. The temptation of what might be behind that door, pondered my mind ever since my father told me not to go near it. What was he hiding? Nothing good, if there's a lock on the door.

My conscious was telling me to do one thing and not the other, and vise-versa. It felt as if I was in a cartoon; the angel and devil, arguing on my shoulders. My curiosity got the best of me, and may be the child it's killing instead of the cat. I took one long step, causing the floorboards to creak from my weight. With each step, the angel screamed at me louder and louder to stop, but I ignored it. Why must this door taunt me? Making me go against everything I know.

I stood before the door, noticing the missing lock. A sudden gust of wind hit my face and the door slowly opened, unleashing a bit more light. My heart had already departed and left my body in fear. I pushed the door open with my hand, very timidly. All I could see was a set of stairs with no end. I let my hand guide down the cold, rusted railing as I walked one step at a time down the stairs. I neared the bottom of the stairs, when an awful smell crowded my nose. My stomach turned at the smell and I wanted to vomit. I have never smelt something so foul in my life; even the bathroom and Nanny's feet at the orphanage couldn't compare to this stench.

I was startled when I stepped down on something wet. I looked down, my feet now soaking in a red puddle, which I could only assume was blood. I was afraid to go any further, but there was no point in going back now.

I stepped aside of the blood and continued down the stairs, following the blood trail. I reached the bottom, but it was pitch black. In the distance, I could see a little light, dangling from what seemed to be, the ceiling. I started to walk toward it, keeping my arms out in front of me for some sort of protection. I was walking in a pit of darkness; a pit of nothingness. I reached for the small light, as it glowed brighter and brighter the closer I got. Just as my finger tip touched the light, all the other lights in the room flickered on. It took some time for my eyes to focus, but when they did, I wished they didn't. That awful smell now made sense. My body was paralyzed, but my mind was trying comprehend everything.

Body bags hung from the ceiling, dripping blood. There was a big table with knives flesh, sprawled all about it. I've never seen so much blood in my life; I wanted to vomit again.

"Emily!" Who was calling my name? "Emily, Emily! Wake up!" What?

~

I opened my eyes to see my father there before me.

"Whoa. Are you okay sweetheart? It looked like you were having a really intense dream." I sat up slowly, moving my lips, but not speaking. I looked around my room, still believing I was dreaming. I felt my fathers warm hand on my cheek.

"Emily, talk to me please." I just gazed at him for a moment, and finally found some words; those words were not the best decision.

"What's behind that door?" His expression went blank and he let go of my face. I was terrified. Why would I ask him that? He told me not to go near it. He let out a long sigh and stood up from the bed.

"You really want to find out what's behind that door?" I nodded shyly in reply. "Come." he said firmly with his hand stretched out to me. I hesitated a bit, before holding onto his hand that held mind tightly. He guided us down the hallway, down the steps, past the kitchen, past the dining room, past the living room, and finally to the basement.

He didn't say a word, I didn't even hear him take a breath. He swiftly pulled out a jumble of keys, in which he scrambled to find the right one. Once the door was unlocked, he turned to me with a very stern look.

"Now Emily, my dear, please understand there was a reason I didn't want you down here," He sighed and looked down for a moment, then focused his attention back on me. "But I've realized it's unfair to you, you deserve to know. I am not a bad person, I am a good guy, please don't be afraid." He frowned as he said this, and lead me down the stairs.

It wasn't as mysterious and creepy as it was in my dream. It looked a bit older than the rest of the house, but it was well lit and didn't have that awful rotten smell. We got to the steps; an instant rush of confusion boggled my mind. The so called "cellar", looked like any ordinary basement. There were shelves with knickknacks mashed together that looked like they haven't been touched in years. There was an old, worn out table that had a bunch of random tools spread across it; all covered in dust. Nothing in the basement looked suspicious, so why was he hiding it?

"Nothing interesting to see here. Follow me." I followed him behind the shelves, which led to a door. He put his hand on the doorknob and hung his head low with a sigh, as if disappointed. He opened the door and I walked in behind him. The room was empty, completely empty. He just stood there, staring at the wall.

"Uh.. dad?" I mumbled, looking around the seemingly harmless room.

"Look closer, darling." I followed his eyes that were fixated on the wall before us. The wall appeared to have little in cravings on it. I walked closer and began to read them off.

"Jaime. Tanner. Brooklyn. Marcus. Samantha. Luke. Paisley. Ryan. Mykie. Dustin," I paused, trying to process it all. "Why are all these names here?" I gently ran my finger along all the in cravings in the wall.

"These are the children I've lost." His voice was elongated and sad.

"Did they die?" I let my eyes retrace the letters on the wall, one by one. I had a feeling he'd start crying, and I really did not want to witness that.

"Paris and I... have tried to have kids. It, well, as you can see, didn't have the outcome we were hoping for."

"But isn't Paris kind of young? There's no way she could have this many children." The room was silent. The only sound I could hear, was my heartbeat echoing throughout my body.

"Paris.. is not my only wife." I turned to face him, and there were tears in his eyes.

"Her name was Mary.. and she was the love of my life."

I was afraid to ask, but I did anyways. "What happened to her?"

"She had a disease similar to Paris."

"Breast cancer?"

"No. Lung cancer."

"I'm sorry." I slowly turned back to the wall and pointed to Dustins name. His name was underlined. "Why is his name underlined?" He walked up to my side and glared at his name.

"He was an orphan, like you. We raised him since he was 5 years old. He left this world in a very unpleasant way."

"How'd he die?" His eyes became watery and he softly put his hand on Dustins name.

"He committed suicide." My heart stopped at his words. "Mary passed away when Dustin was 14.  On his 16th birthday, he decided he couldn't be without her." He hung his head again and wiped underneath his eyes. I hated seeing him so distraught. "Thank goodness Paris came around when she did. I was losing hope in happiness."

I gently put my hand on his shoulder. "You got me now."

His wrinkles disappeared as a smile spread across his face. He looked at me and pulled me into a loving embrace. "Yes I do Emily, yes I do."