Crooked Girl

2

I need to find the key to this weird drawer. Whatever's inside has got to be something important. Something about me. My past. And I need to know. I don't remember anyone. Not even myself. I need this.

I look under the bed, in both of the other drawers, on the desk, under the desk. But it's nowhere to be found. No key, no sign of a key.

There's this big clock in the hallway. A wooden and old one. I saw it when mom and I went downstairs.
I open my door and check the time from the oddly beautiful clock.

Must've taken months to make this amazing work of art.

"Monica!" Mom shouts just then. "Come downstairs this instant!"

Chills run down my spine as I step out the room.

Time sure does go by quick when you need it.
I take a step toward the stairs, my eyes checking everywhere for a key.
I don't know why I'm so interested in seeing what the little drawer hides. What could possibly be so attractive to me that my mind stays attached to it.

The little girl voice in my mind is back. But not telling me to run this time. Screaming.
She yells my name, she shouts for help. She tells me it's time to go. She says it's too late, it's over. GO
I don't.

I walk downstairs. I don't know how I feel. I don't want to face the truth. At the same time I do.

A man's face I see. Staring at me. Smiling at me. Mom next to him. Intense. But god, that smile...

What I encountered this morning was scary. Dead man, familiar voice, dead silence. But oh god that smile.

———

After a weird dinner with almost no conversation at all, I'm told to go to my room to sleep.
I do as I'm told.
Having no clue about where the key might be and feeling tired like i just finished a math lesson, I'm not even going to explore.

Mom gives me an old dress to wear to bed. I don't know why I never questioned why I didn't have more outfits.

Falling onto the bed, I remember the man. His throaty voice, his crooked smile. The feeling he gave me. How familiar he was.

As I lay there in the dark, there was dead silence. But then that changed. And oh hell I wish it hadn't.

There was a knock. Then an another one. And a few more until I sat up straight. Listening to the creaky room in the dark, I smelt the same smell i smelt this morning.

Everything was going fine until I realized the knock wasn't the door nor the window.
It was the closet. The big old dresser.
I got up and put my hand on the handle of the closet. The presence of something, or someone perhaps comforted me. Inside the closet?

I thought it was a dream. A nightmare. But no...I knew it wasn't when I opened the closet door.
My bedroom closet became a gateway to a secret carnival.