The Only Key

The day had come.

The day she had received a key to her new home. It had been placed into her hands. The rigid, jagged teeth made marks onto her soft palms. She could feel how cold it had been and her teeth clenched. She slid the key into her pocket and made her way down the thin path leading to the front door.

The interior of the house was old, but that was all she could afford. Picture frames had loosely hung onto the walls. As she patted down the couches dust flew and she could see the small particles from the slit of light coming from behind the draped window. She turned on the light switch and in the far corner the lamp flickered.

It was weak.

She went to see if it had anything to do with the power down below in the basement.

She made her way down. Sliding her hand down the railing and at the bottom of the stairs she had accumulated a ball of dust. She wiped it down on her pants. She had planned to change her pants after she found the source of power to turn on the light around the house.

Suddenly, the weak lights had turned dimmer and dimmer. As she walked in circles around the shivering basement, there was a sudden darkness.

She could feel the burn of her foot from the friction against the hard rug. If she had known where she was walking none of it would have ceased to happen. As she walked forward with her hands away from her to look for the light source, they toppled over things that were presumably books laying on coffee tables and the remote resting on the arm of the couch. It had been a frightening thought. Where the house was filled with darkness. Where she had thought that no one else was in it but her. The light was out, the weather was cold and daunting with its grey cloud and its dark soul, and little did she know that someone else would be upstairs, while she was down below in the cold basement.

It hadn’t been the power box in the basement. It had been a figure who was controlling the lighting of the house. She hadn’t known this.

When she heard sounds above, she shrugged it off and assumed it was the weak house groaning from its floorboards and the hollow sinks where the faucet dripped and splattered uncontrollably.

Meanwhile, the unknown figure from upstairs made its way down the basement as well.

This time she heard it and she knew what she heard. Footsteps came running down and sprinted towards her, despite the figure not able to see. Lucky for her she dodged, fell, and lay panting on the cool basement floor.

This time it came quietly towards her. Making it hard for her to hear it come closer. Instead she heard the shuffling of its feet against the hard carpet had burned her feet with. It whimpered, unbalanced itself and fell alongside the girl before she could get away.

She thought this would be it. Nothing would be after to chase her and her fear would vanish.

But it wasn’t.

The figure couldn’t get up. She got up carefully but quickly and strategically traced her steps back to the basement staircase. She followed the dusty handrail back up until she reached the door full of light. The girl went towards the front door, grabbed her shoes as fast as possible, and left the key behind. As she closed the door behind her, she looked back.

Just once.

She never bothered to wonder what that figure was, but the key was left behind.

No one could be bought back in as that had been the only key that led to that very house that she almost might have gotten killed if she hadn’t ran out.

Featured Image Source:

https://keithdotson.com/blogs/news/black-and-white-photographs-of-old-doors-and-antique-keys

 

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