NightCurse

A Dilapidated Shed

I woke up exhausted, and my arms hurt. I had a horrific time sleeping that night because of the horrifying dreams that had been haunting me ever since that strange, psychopathic guy had raped me. I stretched my limbs over the length of the bed and then just stared up at the ceiling. What time was it, and how long had I been asleep? I glanced up at the clock, and it read, “2:30” with the little PM light checked. I had missed the entire appointment! Damn! I threw off the covers and dashed down the creaky, aged wood stairs that termites had probably begun eating away at. Why hadn’t my mom woken me up? She usually wanted us to be early for appointments and stuff! It’s not like I wanted to go or anything (man, did I HATE Dr. Shale!) but I knew I didn’t have much of a choice if I wanted to live. Ever since I had come to this home, my mom had forced me to see Dr. Shale because of the trauma I had went through with the whole rape thing and my suicidal tendencies. I abhorred talking to people about such things, especially if we weren’t too close. He just didn’t know when to shut the fuck up! Ugh! I abhorred appointments to see him!

When I arrived at the bottom of the stairs, I saw my mom watching some sort of movie- Scary Movie 3, maybe- on the 40-inch-screen TV in the living room. She was curled up on the maroon couch against the ghost-white wall to the right of me with her pink and purple plaid, fleece blanket covering her entire body except her face. I stared at her in absolute bewilderment. She must have noticed, because she glanced up at me, too.

“What about that appointment?” I asked in an extremely confused murmur.

“Dr. Shale had to cancel. Guess you could spend the rest of the day doing whatever. Be sure to finish your homework, though, so you can boost up your algebra grade!”

That’s right. I had been failing algebra with a 53 so far. Ever since I’d been destroyed by that monster, I didn’t give a crap about my academic status. My highest grade so far was an 83. What are the chances I’d even get into college, anyway? I actually didn’t even want to go to college. What would I do after school, though? Maybe I could start up my own band and become rich and famous like Gerard did. Hmmm…

After I put on a purple t-shirt and black jeans, I pushed the mahogany kitchen door open and began my adventure through the concrete jungle of all things suburban. Life in Portington sure was tragically boring and quiet, almost silent. The chilling breeze whipped through my hair and at my face, so I stifled a shiver. Rain clouds peered through the tree I had been walking under that moment. Maybe I should’ve stayed inside…

Soon, I was at the intersection of Rose Ln. and Buckhorn Ave. Rose Ln. was the monotone street I lived on. My neighbor on the left had a garden of lilies and a gigantic pool in their back yard. In their front was a path made of red, blue, and mustard-yellow glass that illuminated at night by a solar panel on the roof. To the right of my house was an old, abandoned barn thought to have been used in the 20’s. It was quite bizarre seeing this random barn in the middle of the suburbs. Termites had begun to deteriorate the ruins of this barn to rubbish. I often wondered why it was still kept there.

My house was much more pleasant than that rundown barn. The outside of it was painted in a baby pink, and the path to the house was surrounded by a vast rose and violet garden. Maybe that’s why travelers always came to my house for directions. I don’t know. The roof was a dark green and had been last replaced about three years ago by the looks of it. In the back yard was a vegetable garden filled with pumpkins, tomatoes, carrots, watermelons, cucumbers, basil, and my favorite, bell peppers. I loved to go back there and chomp on the bell peppers the garden had to offer. The growing season was over, however, so we’d be harvesting everything, and the garden would come to a necessary idleness until spring.

Rain began to thud off the roofs of the town, but I continued to on a venture to nowhere. I turned onto Buckhorn. Then, I suddenly heard the deafening screech of boisterous thunder, and a huge shock of lightning followed. I didn’t care, however. What were the chances I’d get struck, anyway? The rain suddenly began to shoot down harder, so I instinctually quickened my pace. Every time I’d sense it come down harder, my pace would instinctually quicken. I was soon running at full pace. Where was I? Why didn’t I recognize these street names-- Kelvin Blvd., Maple, St., Selenium Ave? My body soon took a sudden halt to permit me to catch my troubled breath. I leaned on a needly pine. My head facing its trunk. Running so much surely had exhausted me. “Huff, huff,” was all I could hear, and that was just my fatigued mouth and lungs. I suddenly started to cough, and globs of mucous instantly shot out of my mouth like a bullet. Soon I was down on my knees coughing up the remaining mucous. What was wrong with me? I could hardly breathe!

I then felt my hair lifting off of my head. What the…? That’s when I remembered the thunder and lightning. I’d learned in elementary school one day that if your hair raises up in the air during a storm, you better run. Holy shit! I darted like a cheetah until I reached a sign that read, “No trespassing.” Woah, I must’ve been lost! Nobody in Porting ton ever had or even felt the need for such a sign! Where was I? I hoped I wouldn’t be stuck in the storm for too long…

I walked around for four more hours when I finally found an antiquated shed that had begun to rot. The rain continuously pattered on the sides of the shed as I looked around for another place to rest. I could barely see five feet in front of me, however, because night had come with its superior, blinding darkness. Old sheds like those were usually filled with the creepiest insects ever, but it was at least a last resort. Lightning shot across the black sky and nearly made me jump in the air.

Inside of the dilapidated shed, it was damp and freezing, definitely not a pleasant combination for my pathetic immune system! The floor was made of rough dirt and rocks, but there were at least no hideous bugs as far as I could tell. The wind whipped at the dull, weak sides of the shed, which had been painted white. The paint had begun to chip off, however.

I was suddenly in my bedroom. My bedroom was absolutely cozy and perfect. I was completely alone in there. My bed was missing from it’s room for some odd reason, however. Without a thought, I walked over to my bedroom door and tried to turn the golden handle. Nothing happened. I tried once again, but nothing happened. I finally gave up and sat in front of my TV. It popped on without me touch it, and some odd girl with a pink afro popped on. She was talking about the weather. “Six months of rain along with a few snow showers. Tomorrow high 98. 75% chance of sn--.” It cut off and changed to another channel. On this channel was a young girl with ruby hair and a southern accent. The oldest she could possibly be was eight. Her luminous eyes were dark emerald, and her skin was ghostly pale. Her nails were jet-black and about two inches long. She moved her blood-red lips and out protruded sharp, elongated fangs. She grinned maliciously at me. Her shoulder blades expanded and out popped two black, feathery wings lined with gold. She suddenly transformed into a full-grown adult and wriggled her way out of the TV. I backed up slowly into the wall. She was soon in my face. Her breath reeked of rotten fish and nearly made me gag.

I dashed for the window and began to try to smash it with my fists. It felt like gelatin and absorbed the weak power of the punches. The girl, now a woman, gripped onto my shoulders from the back and threw me down. She then hissed at me. Her spit piled into my eye and felt like a fiery lick from a flame from Hell. She then licked my cheek. This lick corroded the skin on my cheek like strong acid. She then grabbed me by the skin at the back of my neck like a kitten and dragged me to the wall left of us…