Come to My Window

Standing in front of my house, I slowly brought my gaze up to the front door. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the ugly burgundy door; I actually started to miss it. My mind began to wander back to the day that I seemed to enter hell.

For some reason, the white van kept popping back up in my thoughts. It did speed out of here really fast. It was a pretty big van. It could just be a coincidence. But something tells me otherwise. The looks on the driver and passenger’s faces told me otherwise.

“The van,” I said aloud.

“The van,” I whispered, clenching my eyes shut.

Everything around me seemed to disappear. The car horns in the distance faded away. The voices of my parents talking fizzled into oblivion. The warm breeze blew my hair across my back and for just a single moment, I felt invincible.

“Are you gonna stand here all day, kiddo?” A large hand patted my back.

At that exact moment, a horrifying shriek escaped my throat and my body began to shake uncontrollably. I dropped to my knees and held my head in my hands. Graphic memories flashed through my mind at light speed. Hatred coursed through my veins. My pale fingers pulled at my hair. It felt like I had lost all control of my body.

My breathing became heavy as the shriek died down. My hands dropped to the cement of the sidewalk, steadying my shaking body. I could hear voices coming from every direction. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they were getting closer.

“Bill, just go inside,” my mom’s voice was the only voice I recognized.

Footsteps approached my side and my mom’s calm whisper eased my nerves as she helped me up. I kept my gaze on the ground below me until I was inside my house.

So long I have wanted to be back inside my house. I missed the creaky floorboards just inside the front door. I missed the awkward colored couch in the living room. I missed my life before I was shut away in an attic.