Harrington's Journal

Chapter 23: July 20th - Hide and Seek

July 20th

It was never easy to escape from one of my greatest nightmares. It was daunting to hear his voice echoing beyond the forest, and it ringing loudly in my ears. Hearing it crossing into the human world made me tremble. It was not the bitter coldness of the night that made me shiver, it was the fear moulding within my stomach.

I kept on running up the hill towards the manor. As soon as I arrived at the door, I heard him calling out my name. I turned and saw his large figure stomping out between the trees. Quickly I went inside, shutting the door and locking it. The house creaked around me as if it was about to fall apart at any moment.

I hobbled towards the kitchen, trying my best to ignore the pain on my arm, and with the feeling of my lost finger continuing to sting. My hands shook when I reached for the kitchen knife. The blade was slightly rusted, yet it was still sharp. I went upstairs to the second floor. Suddenly there came a thump just right outside the door, then another thump. The sound of footsteps were approaching closer and closer, very slowly. My ears twitched at every sound and the hairs along my arms stuck up. The knob turned but the door refused to open. Suddenly there was a loud bang on the door. Again, it sounded and the door shook at its power. Standing here will not do anything, and with that thought, I ran, down the corridor to find another set of stairs.

"Let me in Harrington!" called Marok from below. The door came crashing down and at that moment, I knew that I must hurry.

The stairs led me up to the third floor, the floor which I rarely go to as it was forbidden. It is because right above the third floor was an attic. As I forgot to mention, the children say that there are ghosts living in attic which is used as an excuse to keep me away or rather, they were trying to scare me. Still I went up there, ignoring what they've said. On the third floor were a few more spare rooms, and then there was the study room at the centre. In the corner of the room, hidden behind a bookshelf, there were stairs that curved up into the attic. I remember it very clearly. The rusty hinge, the decaying wooden door and a metal gate that sealed it.

I stumbled down the corridor, the knife still in my hand. The dense breath leaving my lungs made me feel faint. Finally, I entered the study room. I thought that this was the farthest I could go. However, when I saw the door I remembered something. As soon as I was about to venture up there and bring down something to show to the rest of the children in order prove that I've been there, the father who owned the manor came in. Before he did, I heard him arriving and so I quickly went to hide behind a row of bookshelves. I peered over the books and saw him took out from the second drawer, a pair of keys that was attached to a silver ring. One for the gate and the second for the door. He went up into the attic and as he did, I quickly went down to the first floor, as I had failed to accomplish my mission. He then came back down to show off his stamp collection that was retrieved from the attic but nobody knew where he got it. 

Nevertheless, the key was in the same spot. It never left its place. I grinned, feeling like as if I was winning. Marok will never find me and I smirked at that thought. I rushed up the stairs and fumbled to get the keys into the hole. I tugged onto the metal gate and pushed the wooden door open. I went inside, shutting both the gate and the door. As I turned I jumped back in surprise. The mannequin's ghostly appearance surprised me once again. Its inanimate body overlooked at the forest below. There was a mirror beside it and everywhere else were a few extra sofas, tables, and desks. Hobbling across the attic, I approached to one of the desks and slid myself under it.

Minutes passed and my ears were in some sort of paranoia. The manor creaked and there was the thumping. My breath was heavy. My heart was pounding, loudly, very loudly. It was chocking me and I felt like I was about to spew my heart out, but I knew that I could not. My body was still in fear because it knew that it was not over. I had realised that my ears were not playing tricks on me at all as the slow thumping became louder.