My feet patter across the floorboards, I look out, I take a deep breath. There's something in my yard, something ancient and a blue that looked like the sound of a hummingbirds' wings. A stiff breeze blew through and my curtains ballooned towards me, the leaves on the trees outside of my window starting flitting about, a 'chuffchuffchuffchuff' coming inside through the mesh screen of my window.
My breath released itself from my mouth and fogged the window in front of me, my eyes squinted trying to see through the glass to get a better look at what was in my backyard. I pressed my nose against the glass and looked out in the dark that blanketed my yard, it was like looking through navy colored glasses, the grass turned a different color, the urns a darker stone.
Sitting next to the hose attached to the garage was the ancient thing. It was a box, a big box that had words writtten on it at the top. Polizei öffentlichen Aufruf Box. I guess that in English that translates to Police Public Call Box. My English isn't the best, but I was just looking at one of those boxes two days ago, boxes like that haven't been around since the 1960's. Curiouser and curiouser.
I took a tentative step forwards and pulled the cream curtain back, my eyes drifted out over the window sill to settle on the box, there was something dark about it, something timeless. I licked my lips, preparing them for the cold, and I stuck my head out the window, taking in the bitter freeze.
My hand outstretched and I felt the wind attempting to counteract the direction of my fingers. I took a step back, retreating my head from the window and walking to my bedroom door. My hand closed around the cold brass of the doorknob and I twisted it slowly, pulling gently. The door swung open and I peered out at the hallway ahead of me.
Moving into the hallway, my feet shuffled across the wood. I glanced over at my mother's door, her soft breaths coming from underneath. I could picture her lying in her bed, the blankets kicked to the floor and the sheet pulled to her chin. She would probably be facing the door, just one of the many habits of my mother.
I tiptoed down the hall till I reached the stairs, then I took a careful step down, hoping it wouldn't creak. Indeed it did, it creaked and sounded like a door falling off.
"Annaliese?"
I cringed, knowing that if I hushed up, she would give up. She called me again, but then after nearly two minutes, she fell back asleep. I continued my trek down the stairs, counting each step, hoping none of them would creak anymore.
At the bottom of the stairs, I straightened the rug slightly. Ever since I was very little, I had slight OCD, I kept the entire house very clean and I could tell you the exact amount of stairs we had. Every mirror and picture was straight, every rug was straight, every item in the cabinets were straight as well.
I made it to the front door and pulled it open, feeling the rush of air cover my toes, I resisted a shiver. I moved out of the door and onto the front porch, I walked off and down the stairs towards the box. I reached the grass, it tickled in between my toes.
I sighed again and continued across the yard, getting closer and closer to the box. It seemed to take a hundred years, but I reached it. I touched the soft wood and released a breath I didn't know I was holding. It felt aged and worn to the touch but looked brand new.
I glanced around and then moved to the side with the doors. I hesitantly pulled them, due to the sign 'Pull To Open'.
With a slow squeak, the doors swung open.
