Silver Crowbar Creepypasta Book

Chapter 19- Conversation

The sound of nails falling to the ground seemed almost rhythmic. A strange tune, with only one sound that barely ever changed. Laureen found herself listening to this rhythm as she stared off at nothing, eyes directed towards the helicopter door. She was loosing herself to her thoughts again. But they were empty thoughts, just purely stating what she already knew rather than contemplating it. Mathis had been a bad person. She and Jeff were in Arcos. They were in Arcos in order to shut down a black-market criminal organization. Jeff had just killed a man.

She had just cried herself into silence and emptiness. She wanted to go home. The small stinging of her eyes surprised her for the first time. It always stung when they began to change colors, noticeable despite her being used to the unnatural shift. She realized then that the reason it surprised her was fairly simple. She hadn't felt it in a while. Only a slight sting when she was angry earlier, when bright colors usually brought some sort of burn. Had she really been in the same mood for so long? Had her emotions truly not changed enough to influence her eyes in all the time they had been on the helicopter?

The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She had been in a similar sad and anxious state the entire time, with no changes strong enough to cause any change in her eye color. So what made it change now? It was due to a sinking feeling that broke through the emptiness. Loneliness. She didn't know what color her eyes turned to when she was lonely. Every new color that ever occurred was voiced by Malachi, not relayed to her by her own findings in a mirror. It only made her miss him more.

She never knew that she could feel this homesick over a place she hadn't been occupying for most of her life. But when compared to being here, stuck with a twisted murderer and witnessing the world reveal information that she didn't want to know, she could certainly see how it was possible to be homesick. 'Homesick', for as long as she had known the term, always referred to a house. A comfortable house, with a mother and a father or other relatives who loved and appreciated whoever it was that shared that home. The longing for that home had almost never occurred for her in the course of her life.

There was only one time, one singular time, that such a feeling was strong enough to effect her. And as she remembered that time, she found herself slowly beginning to miss two homes. A memory of herself at the age of six, alone in the house save for a babysitter that clearly simply wanted to be paid. Staring out the window with her telescope, and finding a young star like her mother had told her to do rather than wishing on a falling star. Her words ringing through Laureen's mind: 'why would you wish on something falling?'.

Back then, those words were comforting, something to think about when 'mommy' was halfway around the world as she wondered if the moon was also visible from where she was. Now, those words held very little value compared to how much they meant to her back then. She remembered being very homesick at that age. When her parents first began leaving for nearly months at a time. Homesick, despite being in a home. She had longed for the home that was comfortable, the one with the mother and the father who loved and appreciated her.

But that home never returned, and Laureen grew past that stage of loneliness in later years. It faded more and more, from homesickness to a dim loneliness, then a small want, then simply being alone. Alone, without feeling lonely. But that cabin of Malachi's, that cabin had undeniably restored the feeling of being 'home'. And she undeniably wanted to go home. She curled her knees a bit closer to herself, her loneliness only making her more bitter about the situation that was keeping her from the home she longed for. There was a certain humor to it though, she supposed. A cabin in the woods would always attract a killer, right?

.....That thought did very little to help her currant state. She heard the sound of yet another crate opening. How many had Jeff been through by now? "Alright, more food in this one. 'S good, right?" He said softly, picking up some canned food and turning it over to look at the expiration date. When was he going to learn that she didn't care? He had been voicing what was in the crates for nearly ten minutes now. Or perhaps he was just saying it to himself at this point. He didn't even truly know that himself.