Living Nightmare

Going Home

I can still remember it so clearly; the dream, that is. I remember the feeling of being trapped and helpless. I remember the way the tall evergreens towered over me as I followed her. I tried to stop myself each time, but I couldn't; I could never control the ending. I thank God every day that it wasn't real. However, that never changed the fact that I refused to sleep with the lights off... or some nights, sleep at all.

I am startled out of my thoughts by a voice, my sister, Annie.

"Are you alright, James?" she glances over at me quickly before turning back to the road. I nod and look out the window. The road is dark and foggy. England has always been so dreary, but never enough to leave. It had become comforting after a while.

"You've been really quiet the entire drive. Aren't you excited to see mom and dad? It's been what, five years now?" Annie's voice cracks as we hit a bump in the unpaved road.

"It's not my fault. They're the ones who locked me up, Annie." I furrow my brows. The drive seems never-ending. I sit awkwardly in the passenger seat, dreading our arrival. Knowing my parents, they will act as if nothing had ever happened, which built a slight rage in the pit of my stomach. Just the thought of what they forced me into angered every fiber of my being.

"You can't stay mad at them forever." she states.

"I'm not crazy, Annie. You know that, don't you?" I say looking over at her, watching her drive intently.

The light from our headlights reflects off of the wet road, illuminating her soft face and auburn hair.

"I never said you were."

We sit in awkward silence for a while, listening to music play under the soft hum of the motor. In the distance I can see a sign. It is tall, almost hidden amongst the trees. As we approach, our headlights hit the sign. Welcome To Pluckley it reads in large, chipped white paint.

"Pluckley?" I ask, turning to face Annie.

"Yeah,"

"The Dering Woods Massacre, wasn't that in Pluckley?"

" Yeah, I think so. That was like sixty years ago James... why does it matter?" she retorts.

"It doesn't," I turn back and face the window exasperated, staring out into the dark passing trees. I nervously bite the inside of my cheeks as we come into town.

Lights come shining through the trees, and tall buildings begin to take shape as we make our way further into Pluckley. At the end of the road, we make a sharp right.

"I think that's it, James." Annie leans forward in her seat curiously, squinting at the road.

My body tenses as we get closer to the soft yellow lights at the end of the unkept road. The sound of gravel crunching under the tires echoes through the car. As we approach, it becomes easier to see the large house come out of the dark, heavy fog. The yard is decorated with large bushes and gardens; I'm surprised they can survive through all that rain. The driveway is long and smoothly paved, which strangely contrasts the rest of the remaining town.

"They're excited to see you, y'know?" Annie whispers softly, pursing her lips and giving me an awkward stare. She turns the key and we sit in silence for a moment before she speaks up once more.

"Please be mature about this, James. You're not a kid anymore." her voice is stern as she glances at me, swiping rebel auburn strands from her shoulder.

I swing open the car door and grab my suitcase from the backseat before hesitantly making my way up the long driveway. I can hear Annie's door slam from behind me, followed by the light click of her heels hitting the pavement.

Before we can reach the porch, the large front door swings open. A short lady with long, curly, blonde hair stands in the doorway. It takes a moment for me to register her as my Mother. She has aged many years since I had seen her last. Wrinkles cover what was once her smooth, porcelain complexion. She steps out onto the damp doorstep and extends her arms towards me for a hug.

"James, dear! Oh my, how I've missed you." her embrace is tight and she smells of cheap red wine.

"You too..." I mumble awkwardly and make my way past her into the front hall.

By her scent alone, I can tell that she has not changed. Still a raging alcoholic, I assume.

"Where's Dad?" Annie asks, sounding breathless as she hugs my Mother.

"Oh. He'll be along. Come in, please. Make yourself at home, James."

Stepping into the house was almost surreal. The bright yellow-toned lighting reflects off of the crystals on the large chandelier hanging in the foyer. The air is warm and smells of fresh-baked pumpkin pie. I set my luggage down on the floor with a quiet thud.

"Careful, dear! Hardwood isn't cheap!" my Mother nags at me, grabbing my suitcase handle out of my hand.

"Come, I'll show you your room."