I was born in a dysfunctional family. My parents never told me anything about me, my life, or my relations. I never had a name, and they kept me locked in my room 24/7. My room had no windows, no doors, and most definitely no TV. The only thing I was allowed to have was a small tablet that allowed me to watch certain videos. I still never really took it seriously, as I imagined this was normal, and that all other families do this as well. The only thing that got me shivering were the weird bangs I heard every night. Every night, everywhere, above me, below me, surrounding my ears, banging so hard until my ears started ringing and then it would suddenly stop, as if a conductor were to stop musical instruments when the time to play was over.
I didn’t bother to find out who or what was banging, but I had some theories. At around the age of 11, I decided I would go down that basement and see once and for all what was down there.
I had been practicing my fighting skills, so I waited till around 1 am to make my move. I carried a flashlight, and a pair of scissors, since that was the best possible weapon I could find from my already boring room. I could hear my parents snoring, and I silently sighed in relief. I took caution to open the door silently, and the door was so rusted, it was almost as if it was never meant to be opened.
I advance down the steps, slowly and steady, when I hear the snoring stop. My breath freezes, but there’s no turning back now. As I descend down one more step, I feel nails digging into my shoulder. I grasp the railing and flick on the switch, and turn around, only to see my mom there, looking scary as ever. She gives me a disapproving look, and grabs my hand up the stairs. She then calls my dad outside and they scream at me.
They aren’t saying anything to me, just screaming their lungs out. My eyes widen and tears start escaping from my eyes. I was just a child then. After hours and hours of endless screaming and trauma, they lock the basement door and throw away the key. I then realize that my parents aren’t normal, and they most definitely aren’t my parents. In fact, they might not even be human.
It’d been a long time since that incident — and then I spent every minute planning. Planning how I was going to escape this abusive family. I studied my parents behavior for weeks, and slowly planned my escape.
During dinner, I hypnotized my parents with a tactic that I’d learnt on YouTube. I twisted my wrist, holding a small wristwatch attached to a golden necklace, wrapped around my little finger. The pattern of my wrist moving right and left had its effect. I lowered my chin to check their expressions. Their eyes were so lost, and seizing my chance, I bolted to the living room door and ran for my life. My “parents” only noticed when it was too late, and they seemed to slowly unalive themselves.
I kept running, however, and didn’t stop until I reached far, far away. Panting and wheezing, I knock on a different house’s door. I hope these people are human, I think as the door opens and a tall lady looms over me.
“Yes?” She asks.
“Please, do you have shelter for me? I’m running away from my abusive parents and I need shelter-”
Her gaze softens, and she thinks about it for a full 3 minutes. She then explains to me how she can give me shelter until I can find a sturdy job for myself. I beam at her and she gestures for me to come in.
Her son walks in, confused, as she explains everything to him. We start to warm up to each other, and after a week’s time, we become almost like siblings. I’m starting to understand how a normal family works here. Instead of being locked up in our rooms, we talk. Something about this family actually screams love, and then I understand how insane my family was.
One thing hasn’t changed, though. I still hear banging, every single night, and I still get nightmares of that day. My parents’ nails digging into my shoulder, the non stop screaming, and the inhuman look they would always give me. I snuggle into my covers, thinking this was all just a hallucination.
Little did I know…