Christina

Arrival

High stone arches and grotesque pea colored bushes, spoke well enough for this place. So well even, you could practically hear the building calling out for you, beckoning you closer. As I stepped forward I could feel the wind rushing around me, trying to push me back. It reached for my ears and screamed for me to turn and run. But I had no where to go.

       Lifting my resilient feet, I began to make my way toward the house that I would now call home. When I reached the steps my body froze. Even my body had begun to warn me, as if it didn’t already know that this was our only choice. If I turned around now, not only would I be an orphan but I would be an orphan on the streets. So for now, I had to find the strength to force my led coated feet up the stairs and in front of the door. I knocked once, and then almost immediately realized that not even someone with their ear pressed against the door would be able to hear it. I knocked again louder and braver like that of a person whose stomach wasn’t tying itself in knots. I heard a giant latch being moved before watching one of the large heavy doors pulled inward and a small head come out from behind them.

        The girl who stepped out from behind the door was young, fourteen maybe, and if you were to only glance at her you would think she were white. But upon further inspection I noticed her skin was more than tan and her features resembled of my tutors slave Hanna. What I couldn’t gather from my quick inspection was of which parent she had received the color.

She welcomed me inside with a slight bow of her head and then began to go out and retrieve my luggage.

        “I don’t have any.” I hadn’t meant for it to come out sounding so crackly and weak. It was like I had just begun to realize, that I truly had nothing. No real family, no clothes but the ones on my back. I felt like I was nothing.

She had turned back to me now, holding a confused look upon her face and I immediately felt relieved that she may not have heard me and how pathetic I sounded. Clearing my throat I repeated myself, “I don’t have any bags with me.” She gave me a look that almost seemed sorrowful, before turning fully around and guiding me into the house.

        The inside was just as intimidating as the outside. The staircase, which stood directly in front of me, looked as if it could hold eight people standing side by side and still have plenty of room between them. Looking up to the ceiling I saw a huge crystal chandelier that created little orbs of light all over the large entrance hall.

        “I see you have arrived.” The voiced sounded quite cheerful, but left an ominous feeling in the room. “I hope you had a well journey.”

“Oh, yes, thank you. Although the road down here was a little bumpy.” Then feeling as if I had insulted him I quickly added, “but I hardly noticed, it was probably just the driver he looked a little uneasy when we first took off.”

         He gave me a chilling smile, the kind that says I-got- bodies-in-my-basement. “The judge said you would be arriving with no personal items.” It didn’t sound like a validation statement, but of one meant to wound before the killing blow. “Girl, show Miss Christina to her room. I’m sure she would like to get settled in.” she bowed her head again before looking to me and walking up the stairs.

         The second floor hallway was brightly lit from end to end; the floor was a dark chestnut and was so well polished that when I stared down at it I could see my own reflection. Although the designs in the wood blurred my reflection, I could still see the dark bags surrounding my irritated eyes, which from constant crying now resembled those of a drunken mans eyes.

We reached the end of the hall and the girl turned to a door. I prepared myself to see the room that I would now be forced to call my own, but was greatly surprised when she pulled the door open to revel a flight of stairs. We stepped inside and she turned again to grab an unlit torch off the wall, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a match. She lit the torch and we began to make our way up the stairs to the floor ahead. We passed three doors, each of which looked to lead to other hallways. Yet still we continued to climb. We reached the end of the staircase and stood in front of a door, she outstretched her arm and grasped the door knob pushing the door open to revel a dimly lit hallway. The floor to this hallway was nothing like the floor I saw below, this one seemed to be made of extremely cheap wood that appeared to be rotting away.