The air outside was cold, cold in a way that when it moved it felt as if it was slicing through your skin with silver, icy knives, and freezing your blood before any could be spilled. The trees were bare of leaves and their naked fingers loomed menacingly above the little row houses, as if they were about to pluck up the homes below them, their bark splintering in the nighttime to allow their sudden ability to move. The only light was that of the aged, rusting lamp that flickered eerily in the silence. Its light was so dim that it attracted only a few small insects. A car rumbled down the street, startling a dog whose bark broke the eerie silence. The bark was loud, and real, and full of life, and took the chill out of the air. Yet the dog stopped barking, as dogs do, and the icy knives returned to the air's cold and unforgiving hands. The glow of the headlights on the street made the shadows of the creaking trees grow longer,spindlier, and the lights shut off when they reached the final row house. The engine turned off, and the driver sat in the silence for a second. In the silence anyone who was walking by would have felt a prickling feeling creeping up their back and shoulders, as if something was trailing their fingers along their back, forcing them to walk faster. But no one was walking by.
Finally the driver got out of her little silver Honda, and hugged her hands across her body to protect herself from the wind. She walked up the stairs to the door of the last row house. She pulled her keys out from her purse and jiggled it in the keyhole until the lock clicked. The entrance had a set of twisting wood stairs leading to her room, but she went down the dark hallway, passing up the light switch by the hall mirror. On the walls you could see pictures of her and her friends,smiling, laughing, at the beach. Her face was extremely soft and round and jet black hair tumbled down her shoulders. In the darkness, however, her round face looked hollowed and gray, her lips looked thin and cracked, and you could see lines under her makeup. She walked down the dark hall with a purpose it looked as if she was either very confident or very afraid. If she was in fact afraid,she must have felt that if she stood taller the darkness might not be able to reach her.
The living room was not spectacular: it had a coffee table with magazines piled on top of it and an end with a mug half full of now cold tea.She brushed past it and towards a hall closet. She grasped the cold, brass handle and quietly opened the cream-colored door. Inside were several shelves stacked with simple white and blue towels and linens. She ignored the cord that would have lit up the small closet with blinding white light, and instead bent down and ran her hand over the cold wood floor. Her fingers searched for the small,metal ring. She found it and she pulled it up, chipping her manicure, and went down the tiny ladder.
2 more parts left...
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