7 years later…
I would think about my old life so much that I felt a strong sense of curiosity, sort of a NEED to go back, go back and see for once and for all what was in that basement. My conscience constantly reminds me what a bad idea that is, however, and so I hit the brakes on that rather extreme idea.
I now work as a cashier at Starbucks, and I earn decent money, enough to pay that angel of a lady who lets me live in her house and experience the love of a true family, and enough to be able to run my own errands.
Still, this temptation to go back and know the truth about my question is eating my brain. It’s the only thing I think about during the day, and during the nights as well. The banging is also a consistent reminder that I will never be able to escape from my past.
When I tell Tristan, my almost-brother, about my scheme, he highly disapproves. He now checks up on me every day to make sure I don’t run away, which makes this a bigger hassle for me. He also would FaceTime me when I was at work, which may or may not have been a little bit embarrassing in front of all my colleagues.
Sure, my conscience knows I would never do such a stupid thing.
But can you really disobey the heart?
I had made my decision. I would find out the truth, even if it meant I would die trying. I would die trying to find out what was in that basement. I know I have no sanity left, but it’s ok.
I snuck out of the window with a smile on my face. By some miracle, I remembered the path by heart.
It was a dark night. Tristan had not checked up on me, as he believed I’d let go of those stupid thoughts. Plus, he had just lost his soccer game and he was sulking. I didn’t want to leave him on such a note, but this was my only chance. Him not checking up on me made it much easier for me to sneak out. Plus, I also have experience.
I wore a black, tight jumpsuit, so as to not be seen in the dark. As I walked down the street, far, far away from the lovely place I now call home, knowing I may never see it again, I saw memories of that once 11-year old, running for her life.
There was no turning back now. I walked down the steep road, and saw the same house, dark and gloomy, looming over all the houses in its path.
The door was soggy, and unused, and looked like it would collapse if it weren’t for me grasping my tight grip against the golden door handle. I stuck my foot in between the empty gap that was keeping the door open, and flung the extremely heavy door open with each last bit of my strength.
This next step could be the answer to all my questions…