The Girl With the Golden Hair

Chapter Two

As I spent most of my time here nowadays, I was lying on the floor looking at my painted suns on the ceiling when I heard a sound. Unusual. My Mother didn't stay here once I was gone. Why would she? She was only here because she had dedicated eighteen years of her life to enslaving me. This tower was well hidden and she was confident nobody would find it. She left it as it was, no point spending time erasing my existence, and off she went. I never knew where. 

This sound, though, it sounded...scary. It was an unfamilar feeling. Now that the worst had happened, there wasn't much else to be afraid of. This, though? It sounded like the ground floor was going to cave in. Then what would I have? I wouldn't have my tower. I wouldn't have the comfort of my belongings. It's the one good thing my Mother did. She left this room untouched. 

I swung myself upright and floated out to the doorway of the room. Outside it was just spiraled stairs down and down. My Mothers room was on the way down, another room just like mine (but not at the top of a tower), and then there was nothing but the bottom. I couldn't see anything from here, and I didn't want to risk leaning over the wooden railings. I hadn't seen a single person since my death, I had no idea if I was visible or not. 

With something I considered an act of bravery, I left the comfort of my doorway and moved closer to the railings. I still couldn't see anything. I'd have to move closer. 

I floated down the stairway, not risking floating above the floor. Nothing calls attention like a girl floating in the air with meters-long hair. That's not something I want to bring here. 

Down and down I went but still, nothing appeared despite the noise continuing. 

Then a thought struck me. 

Was it someone from the outside trying to get in...?

Just a few seconds later, bricks started to fall out of the walls and right onto the brown-stained carpet below it. A few hits later, and I could see through the holes what it was that was making that noise. Well, it was the someone holding it that was making the noise, but he couldn't do it without it. He was holding what looked like a gigantic hammer. A sledgehammer, perhaps?

This...person. He looked victorious. He stood at the arch he had created, bold and proud, a satchel swinging from his waist. He smirked, walked in on the debris, and spoke just three words. 

"Home sweet home"

There he stood. Looking right through me. 

I wasn't visible.