Link to the prompt that inspired this story.
I chose image number 6{Click here to view the image}—an image by Dragan Bibin
As usual, this is a first-first draft. I have more in mind for the second draft. Hope you enjoy the read.
The Off Limits Room
Word Count: 2,522
It was cold this time of year—especially in the orphanage—but we made due with what we had. No heating. No air conditioning. No refrigerator. No telephone. Anything of use in the modern world was missing or non operational, and none of us dared to ask why. I mean, we weren't here by choice. Most of us were thankful to have a roof over our head. This wasn't a vacation. This was home. Our home. And if we weren't here, that meant living on the streets. Most of us had no family, or were abandoned by the only family we had, so we didn't question the rules, or rather question anything at all. The orphanage wasn't heaven by any means, nor was it hell, but I would rather live here if given the choice. Because the workers here were the only ones who cared about us... even when God wouldn't.
Nightgowns came off in the summer, and multiple layers of clothing came back in the winter. We piled blankets on ourselves when we were cold, and less blankets when we were hot. Common sense, really. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. But on the unbearable nights, the caretakers heated our blankets with the downstairs furnace, swapping and rotating our cold blankets with warm ones.
When summer came, I retreated to a cold empty bedroom across the hall. The room itself was deemed off limits, but I wasn't sure why. We were never given an explanation. All they said was, 'You must never go in that room under any circumstance'. I haven't seen any of the other girls wander toward the room, just me. And since the doors in the orphanage had no locks, one day I slipped inside when no one was watching and had a look for myself.
Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary. It was an empty room, and just that—an empty room. There was an adjoining bathroom, and I used it from time to time, but nothing struck me as dangerous. I mean, there were boards over the windows, and the room was always frigid, but that was it.
The room became a nice getaway for me. Whenever I was upset, or wanted to be alone and away from the other girls, I hid myself inside. It was nice . Nice to be alone. I felt like that room sucked all the negative thoughts from my brain, and every time I left the room, I was refreshed. In a meditative state. And no matter what time of year it was, the room remained cold. Colder than the rest of the house. I wasn't sure if anyone else knew or noticed, but I kept my mouth shut because I liked my privacy, and I didn't want to lose the only place that gave me solitude.
Half asleep with my head lulling side to side, I knocked on the bathroom door in our dormitory quarters.
“Someone's in here,” a familiar voice said.
I leaned my forehead against the bathroom door. My bladder was on overload. “Tracy, is that you in there?” I whispered. “Tracy. Can I come in?”
“No!” she hissed, “Go away!”
“Please, Tracy. I really need to pee. I just want to go back to bed.”
There was a slight pause before Tracy spoke, “I'm on my period—”
“I don't care!” my voice raised in agitation, “Let me pee in the bathtub or something! I promise not to look.”
“Shut up and go to bed, Mika!” a girl growled at me from behind.
I looked over my shoulder and saw a handful of girls sitting upright in their beds. The dorm was silent and calm, just the way it was supposed to be at these hours of the night. My legs inadvertently began bouncing as I held in my pee, and I pressed my hands to my thighs. The girls laid back down and rolled over facing opposite of me. A few of them covered their heads with their pillows.
I rolled my eyes are groaned, “Fine, Tracy. Have it your way.”
Quaint snores muted my steps as I cautiously tiptoed back through the aisles of beds. I needed to pee, bad, and I didn't want to urinate all over myself if I fell back to sleep. There was the off limits bathroom, but I never entered that room at night.
I stared into a corridor which lead out of the dorm. My eyes were fixated on an amber glow emanating from a nightlight in the hallway like a lure. Baiting me, tempting me to go into the hallway. I glanced down at my bed and the messy pile of sheets I slept in, returning my attention back into the hallway. It was worth the risk. I needed to pee. And the urge to empty my bladder overcame any fear of being caught out of bed after curfew.
I crept into the hallway and heard voices below the stairwell. They spoke in a hushed voice. I assumed it was the caretakers eating their meals. Soft chatter was accompanied by the clanking of silverware and crackling of fire from the furnace. I sucked in my lips, concentrating on my stealthiness, and slithered down the hallway with my back pressed against the wall.
My hand gripped the doorknob to the forbidden room, instantly recoiling back to my chest. The handle was so cold it was hot, and my hand throbbed from the icy singe on my palm. It hurt. It hurt so much, and I accidentally peed a little from the pain. My eyes welled up, but I went for it one more time. I quickly turned the handle and nudged the door open with my foot, letting myself inside.
I tucked my hands inside my armpits for warmth. My teeth chattered, and puffs of white clouded my vision with each exhale. I couldn't see further than an arms distance in front of me, so I went off instinct and muscle memory.
The dark didn't frighten me. I was never scared of the dark as a kid. What terrified me was not knowing. Not knowing what was waiting for me in the dark. Who, or what was there.
Arms extended and drifting into the unknown, I wafted the air blindly and trailed further into the darkness until the sliver of light came to an end. I stopped in mid-stride, a few inches from the end of the light like a clifftop ledge. My body wavered from the severe temperature drop. I twisted my torso and looked behind me into the dimly lit hallway.
This isn't right. I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be in here at night time. This doesn't feel right. I should go back to bed and wait for Tracy to finish using the toilet. What the hell was I thinking.
I turned around and hurriedly walked to the door. My steps clomped, and my bare heels thudded against the wooden floor. I reached for the handle.
The door shut. The door. It shut. Everything is black. I can't see anything.
“What was that?” I flinched to a scratching noise at my left. “Who's there?” My heart pounded in my chest. I took a step away from the noise. If I don't act scared, I won't be scared.
I started humming a tune. Anything to cover up and convince myself I didn't hear what I just heard.
The scratching noise happened again and I froze in place.
I scrambled forward and lunged for the door. I fumbled around, running my hands all along the wall and door until bumping my wrist into the light switch. The light flicked on. I spun on my heels and backpedaled into a corner of the room. I couldn't see. My eyes slowly readjusted to the well lit room.
Empty. The room was just how I left it a few days prior. I exhaled a deep sigh in relief, burying my face in my hands. My hands were trembling. Uncontrollably. And not from the cold. My fingertips involuntarily danced on my forehead, adrenaline coursing through my body.
I woozily dropped my hands at my sides and slumped in the corner, sliding down the faded wallpaper until my tailbone hit the baseboard. I dropped forward on all fours. Propping myself up with my forearms, I spread my fingers and pushed into the floor with my palms. My hair fell forward, dangling around my head like a hospital curtain, horizontal blinds of brunette veiling my sight. I rocked side to side and dry heaved. I closed my eyes.
A rush of fluid poured out my nose and mouth, splashing off the floor onto my arms and face. My stomach tensed, and my throat squeezed tight. I gagged and gasped for air. Hair clung to my cheeks, glued to the sides of my face with last night's meal. Another wave of fluid flushed out of my mouth, splattering everywhere. Tepid liquid slathered over my arms, hands, face and neck. I dry heaved. More of my insides slopped all over the floor with another violent stream as I gurgled in agony. I began coughing. Thick strands of saliva ran from my mouth to the puddle of vomit between my arms. The stench was horrid. It hurt to breathe. I sat myself upright, kneeling.
I wiped the hair from my face and tucked it behind my ears. I felt so much better. My hands weren't shaking. Everything felt okay. Then I remembered the noise.
I panicked and looked around the room. The room was still empty. Just the way I left it. Whatever noises I heard must have been in my head. The darkness played tricks. Illusions of my imagination.
I pushed off the balls of my feet, rising up and standing next to the pool of puke. I was hot, but I was freezing cold. I tucked my hands under my armpits, teeth chattering again. Sweat rolled off my brows, down the curves of my cheeks, dripping off my chin to the floor. The door was behind me, bathroom to my right. I opened the door a smidgen and sprinted to the bathroom.
I flipped the light switch in the bathroom and squinted from the bright light above the medicine cabinet. I ran to the toilet. Lifting the toilet seat cover and pushing it forward with a clink, I slid down my undies and hopped on the seat. A full bladder was the reason I'm awake right now. A full bladder was the reason I'm cold, out of my warm bed, and covered in vomit.
Something heavy bumped against the wall in the bedroom . I was paralyzed with fear. Light tapping clicked against the floor from outside the bathroom. My body shook. My breath became shallow and quick. I pulled the toilet paper roll off the counter and raise it overhead ready to throw at anything that entered the bathroom.
One hand covering over my eyes and the other raised at the ready, armed with toilet paper, I peeked through the cracks between my fingers. The tapping quickened as it got closer and closer to the bathroom door. A blur of black whooshed around the corner and I squealed, throwing the toilet paper roll in its direction.
I clenched my eyes shut, hands covering my face as I sat on the toilet waiting for whatever it was to gobble me whole. Then it happened. It's slimy limb attacked my toes and I couldn't help myself. I started giggling. I opened my eyes and saw our orphanage dog Cheddar licking at my feet. Relieved that I wasn't going to be dragged under the bed by some monster, I relaxed and a finally peed.
I curled my toes and rubbed circles on Cheddar's belly with my feet. “Cheddar. Go get the toilet paper roll for me,” I said, pointing at the partially unraveled roll.
Cheddar lifted his head off the floor, looked at me, and laid back down. He was perfectly content beneath my feet at the base of the toilet.
Figures. He's a dog. He had no idea what I was talking about.
I should get the toilet paper. I'm already covered in vomit, and need a shower, so there was no point in being civil. And there was no way in hell I'd stay in this room longer than needed. I thought about it, contemplating my next move. I fancied a thought about asking Cheddar one more time, but again, it was pointless.
With my nightgown pulled up to my stomach and undies around my ankles, I hopped down from the toilet. The floor was colder than I remembered. A chilly draft blew through the open bathroom door, and I stopped moving. My face got hot, and my heart boomed in my ears, knees shaking.
None of the windows in the house were open. I knew this. All of the girls in the orphanage made a thorough check throughout the house making sure the windows were closed and locked before heading upstairs for bed. And the windows inside this room were boarded and nailed shut. There was no possibly way.
I wanted reassurance. I looked back at Cheddar who was no longer laying down, but alert and pointy ears perked up. His eyes were focused behind me. Another icy breeze brushed between my legs and goose-pimples ran down my limbs. Hair stood on the back of my neck. I turned around and ran to the toilet paper roll, slamming the door shut as I passed by. Cheddar whined. My back pressed against the door and clutching the toilet paper in both hands, I stared into the bathroom mirror.
Tears poured down the cheeks of the girl in my reflection. I wasn't crying. I was petrified at what I saw. The girl was screaming. She looked exactly like me. Her body jerked forward with each bang against the door, like someone was trying to kick the door in—
The mirror on the medicine cabinet shattered, and I slammed against the door in fright. There were hundreds of glass shards embedded in the metal frame from the impact. Hundreds of which were partial copies of myself staring back at me. My brown curls resting on my shoulders. The navy blue nightgown soaked in vomit with a red bow on the center of the collar.
I don't know what to do.
Cheddar backed away from the door and ran behind the toilet. His head peered from underneath the bowl, and I locked eyes with him. He knew something. Something I didn't. His tail between his legs and half his body hidden from the toilet, he whimpered at me.
I wiped, threw the wet toilet paper in the trash and tossed the roll into the sink. I pulled my up my undies and let my nightgown loose. The door handle jiggled and I ran to the toilet. I shut my eyes.
The door creaked open slow and steady, and the flick of a light switch made me shudder. A low grumble vibrated my chest followed with a scream. Something grabbed me from behind.
“Help! Help me! Please! Somebody hel
Check out /r/MishaCreatesMadness if you want to read more of my writing. Thanks for reading!
Submitted May 17, 2016 at 10:15AM by OMGitsMisha http://ift.tt/1Xw255c WritingPrompts
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