Breaking Down Walls (a Castle Fanfiction)

The Beginning

"Class dismissed."

The students in the classroom shuffled about, hurrying out quickly. Friends clustered and walked out together while the teacher erased his white board. I, on the other hand, took my time putting my notebook away and sliding my messenger bag on my shoulder. I stood and watched as the teacher set the eraser down and headed to his desk. Before he could sit, I said, "Have a good evening, Mr. Roberts."

He paused and looked up at me. The room was filled with emptiness, as we were the only two left. The wrinkles on his face deepened as he smiled at me. "The same to you, Miss Smith."

I sauntered out of the classroom and found Ricky waiting for me. I smiled as he pushed off the wall and walked my way. He threw his arm over my shoulders and we walked out of Stuyvesant High School together. The winter air hit us when we left the building, but Ricky did his best to shelter me from the cold.

"How was your day?" he asked as we neared his car.

"Fine," I answered, "considering the load of homework I have."

"Not unlike every day."

We both laughed. He reached for the passenger door handle, but didn't open it. "What do you say we forget about our homework tonight? Hmm?"

I laughed as he pressed me against the car and kissed my lips, moving his hand from the door to my waist. I didn't want to move from this spot, I wanted to stay with him by his car forever. I wanted to forget about my homework and go with him. But I couldn't.

"Come on, Ricky," I pushed him away gently. "You know how my mom is."

"Alright, Ren," he kissed my forehead, "whatever you say. But the offer still stands if you get bored at home."

"Rick -"

"Alright, alright," he kissed my nose, which always made me smile, then opened the car door. I slid in and he shut it behind me. He drove me home like he did everyday (the benefits of having an upperclassman boyfriend) and we sung off key the whole way there. 

He parked in my driveway and leaned over to kiss my cheek. "I'll see you tonight, sweetheart."

"In your dreams," I scoffed, slamming the car door and laughing when he pretended to be offended. I watched as he pulled out and drove away, then I stepped up to the doorway.

I unlocked the front door with the key I kept in a secret pocket of my backpack (per instructions of my mother) and stepped inside. I heard a clatter in the kitchen, then my mom's always paranoid voice shouted out, "If you come any closer I'll knock you out with this frying pan!"

"Calm down, mom. It's just me." I walked into the kitchen to find my mother, eyes wide, apron on, wielding a frying pan, as promised. 

"Oh, hi dear." She set her weapon down on the nearest counter and gathered me into her arms. "I thought I told you to knock when you come in."

"I come in the same time every day. mom," I laughed into her shoulder. "And I call you if I'm going to be late. You know that."

"I know, I know, but-" She pulled away and raked her hand through her hair, looking around as if she was missing something.

"Are you okay, mom?"

She looked back at me like she had forgotten I was there. Then her eyes softened, "Yes,baby. It's nothing," she reassured me.

I believed her because she was always like this. Always paranoid about something, always wary of people and things that were out of place. That's just who she was. "I'll be down the hall if you need me, okay?" I kissed her cheek and left her standing in the middle of the kitchen, searching for something that wasn't there.

I laid on my bed and opened my laptop, leaving my bedroom door open. Every now and then, I heard my mother talk to herself. I smiled as I wrote my paper for english class, and researched for history, and wrote a lab report for science class, and watched as the sun began to set. My mom was watching tv in the living room now. I could hear it. Probably some sappy romance on the Hallmark channel.

 I put my laptop aside and swung my legs over the side of the bed, preparing to raid the fridge for something to eat, when I heard strange sounds coming from the living room. "Mom, are you okay?" I stood and began to walk toward my door.

Then there was a scream. My mom screamed. I ran. There was a man in black standing over her with a knife. A knife that was red with blood.

"Mom!" I ran toward the man. "Get away from her!" I lunged at him and kicked, but he retaliated quickly by slashing my arm with his knife. I saw the red ooze from my arm, but I couldn't feel anything. So I kept punching and kicking, trying to get at his weak spots, but his knife was more powerful than my fists. He slashed my arm once more and stabbed my thigh, which sent me stumbling on the ground.

I used my hands to scoot myself back against the wall, away from the man. My back hit the door to the coat closet, so I opened it and scooted inside. I waited for him to come after me, but he didn't. Through the cracked closet door I watched as he stabbed my mother over and over and over again. I wanted to scream, but didn't feel like I had the strength in me to do so. The only thing that came out of my mouth was whimpers as tears streamed down my face. "Mom. Mom. No, stop, please," I pleaded, but if he heard me he ignored it.

Finally he stood and stared down at what he'd done. Then he just walked away, like he had just completed an everyday task and was ready to move on to the next one. He just walked out the back door like nothing had happened. I curled up in the corner of the closet and bawled.