Shrouded in Mist

4 | Another Falls Prey

Chapter 4: Another Falls Prey

I woke up at seven to get ready for work when I remembered - I didn't work anymore. So with nothing to do, I changed into a simple tee and shorts, grabbed some cash lying on the table, hunted around the house for more cash, found about $5 worth of money, then went out and hit the road. I decided to go to the supermarket. I had a chocolate craving that just needed to be satisfied.

I got my chocolate, then, with nothing else to do, I just wandered around the area, not really paying attention to anything. As I happily devoured my chocolate bars (fattening, but did I care? Heck no.) my feet took me back to my old house of my own accord.

I guess that was one reason I'd never really been able to escape my past. I hadn't been able to bring muself to move far from my childhood home - now an abandoned house. It'd held all the good memories of my short-lived childhood, and the good memories far outweighed the bad ones. Especially the one that made me move out and live on my own among mortals. I'd lived in the next town over for a few years, but I'd eventually moved back here. Nostalgia, I guess. Or I was just plain stupid.

I stopped walking, realizing I'd been clutching my chocolate bar so tightly the chocolate had begun to But I didn't give a shit about it. I'd always been aware of my old home, a subconscious awareness, but I hadn't actually seen it since... well, since that day when I was fourteen. It'd been ten years. I didn't know what I'd expected, but the exterior of the hoise was far from it. For one, the paint was faded and peeling, windows smashed in, there was bird poop splattered everywhere - no kidding - and it'd apparently become a nesting place for crows.

It was a horrific and revolting sight.

I gathered my courage, trying to be brave enough to go in and relive those horrible memories (I was stupid like that) - but I lost it. I shook my head. The memory was already invading my mind, until it was all I could see, hear, feel. I wanted it to just stop, but a part of me, the little girl who killed her own family, wouldn't let it. I had to punish myself. Maybe then the guilt would go away.

It never did.

Sharp noises snapped me out of my own head, and I whipped my head around, searching for the source of it. My gaze was brought upwards, where the crows roosting on the roof of the house had taken flight, suddenly and raucously, a whole swarm of them, black wings temporarily blocking the sunlight. Since this part of town had become a pretty desolate area, filled with abandoned buildings, there wasn't anybody else here. So what could have scared the birds away?

Against my common sense, I put aside my fear and trepidation and took a step forward. Another. Another. Placed my hand on the doorknob and turned.

I stepped into the house.

Cobwebs were everywhere, and light filtered in through the shattered windows, illuminating the dark reaches and corners. A spider scuttled out. It paused for a while, as if inspecting me, then crawled back into its hiding place.

I ignored all the dust and signs of age - that were to be expected. But the pang of nostalgia that hit me - I reeled with the force of it.

All our old furniture was still there, just like I remembered them. A sofa here. Coffee table. Television set mounted on another table.

I wandered farther into the house, my heart wrenching seeing my old home for the first time in ten years. I remembered how my little sister had loved to hide everywhere. I remembered my parents, cuddled on the sofa, Mom crying as The Notebook played on TV and Dad comforting her. I remembered... so much.

Tears started welling in my eyes, and I squeezed my eyes shut, took a deep breath. This had been a bad idea. I already lived with the fact that I'd never see them again every day. Coming here... seeing my childhood home again... that just made it so much harder.