"Some days I felt caged up..."

Morbid Maroon

The floorboards creaked with a shudder from the wind.

Run, leave...

Sonya moved her hand over the old, moth-bitten armrest. It dangled over the edge, her pearl ring glistening in the moon's light. She never took that piece of jewellery off. It was a gift, from her late grandmother.

I sometimes I tend to forget how fragile Sonya could be and just how reckless Trita was. The storm had slowed down a bit, but it was still hazardous to head outside. The lightning shot through the sky every few seconds, carrying a heavy anvil of thunder. It was like the gods were dropping boulders onto the earth.

The sky was dark and ominous, but so painfully breath-taking. The moon shone brightly between the thick clouds.

Just leave.

Ever since my encounter with him I've been struggling to keep my thoughts focused. I was constantly distracted by this ominous feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something wicked.

My mind was struggling to keep course and my nerves were shot. Sonya and Trita had begun to question my fidgeting and restlessness, but they eventually decided to leave it alone.

Best to leave it alone. I'm not even sure what's happening. And that was the worst part of it all- the fact that I didn't know why I felt like this.

I stretched my legs out further. I was seated on my dark green sleeping bag in front of the old loveseat. The old couch was scratched and bitten open by stray cats that have managed to climb through the broken windows. The leathery smell hung in the air. So did the stench of cat piss. I cringed.

You'd think after five years you'd get use to this pong, but cat pee is just one smell no normal human can withstand. It was absolutely revolting. I'd always wanted a cat since I was young, but my father was highly allergic. We eventually agreed to compromise a solution and I got little Paddles for my ninth birthday. Poor thing only lived for eight years before cancer took her from us. After that, my heart couldn't handle another pet. I'd become too attached to her and when she was gone, I felt she'd taken a piece of me with her.

Sonya owned three dogs; until the one died of old age a few years back. I remember that night we all sat around a small bonfire by the beach, telling stories and sharing what we liked to call 'polished moments'.

Those were the times that we decided were simply to perfect and sincere to forget. They were special. Sonya bragged she was going to make a scrap book about our 'polished moments'. That's when we realized we classified too many of our times together as special. She eventually gave up on the idea.

There's no doubt in my mind that we would remember those moments either way- with or without a scrapbook.

"You awake?" Trita's soft voice spoke up from the darkness. I could clearly make out her sleepy face. She was paler in the moonlight, although not as pale as the platinum blonde sleeping soundly next to her on the blanket-covered, ratty chair.

I whispered back, my voice filled with sleep. "No. You?"

I heard an amused chuckled from a few steps away. Trita scoffed silently, "Yeah, because I talk in my sleep."

Her reply was typically sarcastic and I slightly smiled, leaning my head back onto the seat. "Shut up." I stared up at the ceiling. It was mouldy and ancient. It was a wonder the house wasn't flooded with water from the storm raging outside.

Sometimes I wondered how long it would take for us to one day visit this manor again and find it sunken in and completely collapsed.

"Sonya's weak..." Trita's yawn stifled her last word. I grinned at the irony of her calling the light blonde weak when she's the one falling asleep.

I clamped my hand in front of my mouth and stopped the approaching yawn. It really was contagious.

"Go to sleep, Trita."

"No." The young girl pouted; her lips plump and red from biting. I could see something was eating at her, but I was too confused with my own troubles to ask. I watched as her green eyes flicked to the large window where we'd spotted-

I stopped the train of thought. It wasn't important.

Leave!

No.

No. What about them? My friends? What do I do with them?

I groaned silently and clutched my head in between my hands. I lightly shook it from side to side, ordering these persisting thoughts to rock away. I didn't want this in my head. I didn't want this feeling in my bones and in my being.

You needed safety.

Shut up!

I let go of my pounding head. I dropped my hands to my sides, slapping them onto the sleeping bag under my leaned back body. Trita stirred a little from her spot on the floor. Her grey sleeping bag shone brightly in the moonlight that streamed in from the large window.

It was so painfully beautiful and bright tonight.

The moon seemed to hang effortlessly in the dark sky. The storm was still brewing further off, in the horizon, over the sea. The rain had stopped about an hour after we left Sonya's house. Her parents weren't too pleased that we were leaving in this weather to sleep over at a 'friend's'. A few minutes ago, the rain started up again, but this time it was louder and far heavier.

I felt guilty whenever Sonya had to lie to her mother and father. They were good people. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to say no to this tradition in my life. It was an adventure.

I needed to grab every chance I could get at adventure. Excitement. Freedom.

Some days I felt caged up. Like a part of me was locked away from everything. Most days it feels like walking through a labyrinth; there's only one way out and I hadn't uncovered it yet.

Get away!

Shut up.

I'm talking to the voices in my head. Great.

Could this night get any better?

I hesitated as I closed my eyes. Even though we've come here so often, it still felt like this house was haunted or dodgy. Well, naturally it would. I wonder how many thieves use it as a hideout or- Never mind.

Tonight, however, it felt almost worse.

The pit of my stomach was heavy and aching. I couldn't remember eating anything bad. It must be the weather. I refused to believe that it's the house.

I sunk deeper down on my spine. I ignored the ache as I gently closed my eyes. The feeling of my restless thoughts slipping quietly away set me at ease. I checked my watch one last time; 23:50.

The sound of Trita's light snoring lulled me to sleep and from the corner of my closing eye, the room darkened with a puff of black smoke.