Slowly Leaving Me

*~*

The rain pounds down on the window pane, pelting the glass fiercely, relentlessly. My breath comes back hot, fogging the window that my mother had just cleaned, leaving two oval smudges behind. I look at the clouds, gathering at an angry speed, folding into one another, deepening near the middle where as the ends wisp away, streaking through the sky, and soon after swirling together, darkening, getting deeper. The cycle repeats.

I continue to stare out of the water streaked window, watching the puddles ripple, echoing until they disappear. They bounce off of each other, leaving waves behind them as they begin to ripple again. The water grows, spreading to join with other puddles that have formed in the once dry ruts our driveway contained. The droplets trickle around the rocks and trace their way along the ground, rolling fast, trying to make it to a nearby pothole. In about a half hour, the rough gravel is flooded over by water. It collects in the ditches, and is probably seeping into the basement now, yellowing the floral patterns of the wallpaper, burning out the lights, leaving the oak wood roof damp and slivering. .

To my surprise, out of the rainy veil emerged a small car the colour of steaming hot chocolate. Anyone who drove in this weather voluntarily was either insane, or had important business with my parents. A moment later, the door opened, yet no one came forth. The cup holder in the door side was currently filled to the brim, pouring down the slick metal of the door. I assume this stranger has newly purchased this vehicle, due to the lack of a license plate. A moment later, a scrawny guy with a black rain slicker in his arms and something slung around his right shoulder gets out from the car and proceeds towards the front door. From this far up, its hard to make-out the details of his face, but I would guess he is around 6" or slightly below, but not much.

When he knocks I learn something else about this man who mysteriously appeared out of the mist and rain, he is extremely strong. Probably strong enough to carry 4x my weight uphill. I only make this assumption due to the fact that when his fist connects with the solid spruce wood door it literally shakes the whole house, I can feel the ground below me move, and I suddenly feel a lump of unexplained fear rising in my throat. He isn't knocking, its more like an excessive pounding. "COMING!" I hear my mothers voice coming from 2 floors down. Again the pounding protrudes to cut through the silent, slicing the air as if a knife, tearing through the fabric of quietness.

The bolt on the door is unfastened and I look down in time to see the door closing. My now shaking hand wraps around the door knob of my room, which is soon damp from my sweating palms, making it feel like butter, slipping around in my hand. Eventually I get it open and am just about to place my foot on the step, when I hear voices beginning to rise. I recognize my dads voice as it breaks into the argument that has started between my mother and this new man.

Curiosity is quick to consume me, and I move my foot back to the floor, rather than having it suspended in mid-air overtop of the staircase. My fingers lighten, knuckles turning white as I squeeze the metal railing tightly, trying to stay completely still so I can hear better. I catch bits and pieces, but for the most part, the conversation is lost as the sound struggles to make its way up the stairs, bouncing around until it fades. "I......money......give........or else!" The last part comes loud and clear, and I fill in the blanks the best I can. So far I've learned that its definitely about money, and it has the potential to become a violent display judging by the pitching of the voices. My mothers response is delayed, "No! Get........I'll..... the cops!" Hearing this, my heart beats even faster. I wish Josh was here right now, he would know what to do, he always did. I still can't believe he left me like that. All I know is that he's stationed Colorado somewhere.

I'm just about to go downstairs when a deafening sound urges my to stay put. It echoes through the halls, bouncing off the stairs again and again. It reminds me of an eagles ear-splitting scream, and it sends shudders up and down my spine. "PLEASE STOP!" I hear my mother cry out. Another ear-shattering, deafening sound. Suddenly the clomping of heavy boots on stairs rings an alert, warnings go off in my head, and I quickly, and as quietly as possible, slip back into my room. Every part of me is shouting "Run! Hide! Hurry!" I look frantically around, and decide on a classic. I race to my closet and quietly shut the door. I shove as much stuff as I can in front of me and squeeze tightly into the corner. The only left for me to do is wait and hope for the best...