California Dreaming

Chapter Twenty Two

   She took a step forward, out of the darkened room and into the moonlit hallway, her foot extended so as not to make a sound; she glanced over her shoulder anxiously. The light falling in from the window illuminated her face, her delicate features, causing shadows to fall over her porcelain skin in intricate patterns. The house was silent. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and felt cold on the back of her neck, causing the hairs to stand up on end, provoking an involuntary shiver. Her pupils were so wide, you could barely see the irises, just dark pools, black as coal. 

   Then, there was a moment, sudden, which flashed past her eyes and made her take a jump backwards, into the doorway. She clutched to the doorframe, to the peeling white paint and the ridges in the woodwork. She dug her nails in, until there was a swearing pain at the edge of her fingertips, the only thing to distract her from what may be going on downstairs. 

   She paused for a second, took a breath, held it there, so not even her own breathing could be heard. Reassured by this silence, she went further into the hallway, taking two graceful leaps towards the top of the staircase, where she slowly descended, taking each step on tippy toes. There was a creak, as her weight shifted from one side of the floorboard to the other, and she smoothed her fingers over the smooth, varnished wood of the bannisters. When no sound echoed from the emptiness, a reply to the creaking wood, she continued on down the stairs, until she was in the entrance hall. There were no lights on, a TV buzzing from lack of signal in the next room. A car door slammed outside and it made her heart skip. 

   Nothing felt safe, nothing felt familiar, nothing felt like her home anymore. The shadows, of the sofa where she watched movies, the dining table where her family had convened on holidays, the standing light in the corner of the room; each of them formed shapes, like a human figure. He could be hiding behind anyone of those family memories. 

   Suddenly, there was a sound coming from the kitchen, as if the rubber sole of someone’s sneaker had scuffed against the marble floor. She let out a small gasp, and hurried into the living room, looking around desperately for somewhere she could hide. There was a space between the kitchen and living area, a small wall cavity which had never been sealed off entirely, just hidden with a door which matched the cream colour of the other walls. 

   She crouched down and slid inside the empty space, just small enough to fit in with her knees hugged up to her chest. There was a noise from somewhere else in the house and she clasped her hand to her mouth, biting down hard on her lip to restrain from making any noise at all. 

   There were footsteps, low and hollow, and she knew they were from his heavy work boots, as they trundled through her living room. She wrapped her arms around her own torso and curled her toes over, trying to become as small as possible, as if then, he would not be able to see her. The footsteps were becoming increasingly louder, until they stopped, directly in front of the wall cavity. She let out a small whimper and the door flew open to reveal a large man in a hockey mask, holding a chainsaw by his side. 

   I felt someone grabbing hold of my shoulders firmly. I jumped in my seat and turned around quickly, rolling my eyes as Gabriel began to chuckle. 

   “Why the fuck did you do that?” I sighed, rubbing at my eyes wearily as he came and sat besides me on the sofa. My heart was hammering against the inside of my ribs and I held my hand against it, trying to take deep breaths to slow it back down. 

   “You know, you really shouldn’t be watching horror movies,” Gabriel said, raising his eyebrows and lying length ways across the couch, until his head was resting on my lap, looking up at me with big, round eyes.