Pumpkin Hollow

Chapter 5: And We All Fall Down

5: And We All Fall Down

+ Gasping for air greedily my arms reach out to grab anything that can save me from falling back into the dark. The light seeps back into the spinning room. Falling to my side it's easier to breathe. The house stands in complete silence. Morning sun seeps through the boarded windows while cold wind shutters past me.

They left the door open. Where did they go?

A violent pulse begins to beat in my head and makes it harder to stand up. Holding my head with one of my hands and gazing out onto the porch, something shiny catches my eye. Wandering closer to get a better look I clasp my mouth in horror. A thick trail of fresh blood lies across the porch and onto the lawn where it fades off. It's as if someone or something pulled a body right out of the sky.

This could be my blood. I suddenly realize. It happened again. Why wasn't there even the slightest scratch on me? And why wasn't I bleeding! Did I just imagine the whole thing? No, it seemed too real to be a dream. I probably just passed out from the pressure the woman was giving me. Did they make a run for it? Or maybe they're back in the house. Then there would've been voices or noise coming from inside. The next thing I know I'm running up the stairs into one of the bedrooms.

Slamming the door open the only greeting I receive are the smiles, from an assortment of posters hanging on the wall, of famous rock musicians. This must've been Alex's room by the looks of it, except it appears that no one's been in here for years. The barricaded windows lie smothered in dust. Checking the other rooms for any signs of Alex or the woman, I come across the master bedroom. A huge burst of pain erupts in the depths of my skull. This headache is getting worse. Clenching at my hair I'm trying my best to fight this burning in my brain. Then something clicks in my head and a memory comes back to me.

There's another woman and a man sitting on the bed by a window. The sunlight shines down on them like it's magic. The woman is holding a baby, and they look at it with bright smiles. The air feels warm and I feel safe in this room.

"I can't believe it. Can you?" She says to the man.

"No, no I can't." He responds stoking the baby's hair back.

Their images fade with the dying sunlight. Cautiously holding my head, I can see how much this room has changed. Dust flies as I push the door farther to get inside the room. The strange feeling of security still lingers in the air. But I know it's as far gone as the people that made it that way. The floorboards squeak underneath my shredded shoes. I can't walk much further in these, I realize. Quickly looking around the room I find a suitable pair. Quickly I push the thought aside.

I can't steal from anyone, no matter how much I need something. Backing away in shame, I begin to walk away from the shoes.

Are you saying that to think you're the good guy? The voice mocks once more. Or is there something else you're ashamed of? Something else you're trying to cover up?

I don't mind the parrot on my shoulder telling me what to do. But the ridicule from it I just can't stand! Walking out of the room, I can't bear to see any more of it. Too many things locked away in the back of my mind. I don't want to remember right now. All I need to do is find some water. That'll take care of this headache, maybe. Instinct leads me towards the nearest bathroom. I guess there is still some recollection of this old place left in here. I turn on the sink to find to my disappointment that water does not come out. The pipes mustn't work.

"Damnit..." I wheeze under my breath. This pain is really taking a lot out of me. Leaning my arm against the sink, I take in a deep breath, and a violent cough that sends my head resting on the bathroom counter. It feels like something is scraping up my throat and is trying to get out. But it's stuck. My heart gives a violent thud as I try to collect myself. Maybe I just need to rest. I sit on the toilet lid and rest my head. Breathing deeply, my heart starts to calm. Why is it so hard to breathe? I just want something to drink. I'm very thirsty for some reason. Licking my lips I try not to think about it. This reminds me of the time one of my school tutors brought a radio into my room. Because I was supposed to stay within the hospital, my doctor advised a special tutor to help me get by academically. I liked Mr. Crawford. And I learned very well from him not only about math and science, but about the real world as well. What went on outside of my little boxed-in world seemed almost magical at that time. But as time grew and I didn't need him anymore, the interest rotted. I didn't want to learn, I wanted to live. It was one of the last lessons that he taught me about music, I was sixteen. I've never heard of modern music until he brought in that little red radio. He taught me how people communicate through words and notes to spread a message, or talk about something. I can't quite remember the tune now, but I hum my own version, a recollection of what had been to myself to ease this pain. My thirst back then was for knowledge. Now it's just literal.