Chapter 1 of something still untitled

Chapter 1

I lay awake on top of a pile of blankets and pillows. It was soft, like laying on a fluffy white cloud. Shapes danced on the insides of my closed eyelids, distracting me from my sleep. But that was okay, I shouldn’t have been trying to sleep. It was the middle of the day. Not that I had anything better to do.

I felt a soft tickling on my ankle, and frustrated, shifted my foot to try to scratch it with the other. The tickling moved, and I came back to reality. The reality of the hardwood floor digging into my back, of the ache in my head from the hard thump I’d given it that morning, and of the sweet scent of something my little brother must be eating.

I sat up, brushing off the spider trying to make its way up my leg. I used to be afraid of spiders. Most girls were. I doubted anyone was anymore. There was a time and a place to waste energy being afraid of such harmless things, and this wasn’t it. That time and place hadn’t existed for six years. A tickling in my nose caused me to sneeze twice. I hated having allergies.

I got to my feet, whole body stiff from lying on such a hard surface for so long. I missed having a bed; it was all I could do to pretend I was somewhere comfortable, not that that plan never lasted long. My body was not designed to sleep on a hard, dusty floor. I practically lived with constant hay fever – brought about by my dust allergies, and my body was just one big bruise. I imagined this was what old age was like. Except I was only seventeen.

I sniffed, my nose was miraculously unblocked today, and with the rush of air came that sweet smell again. It was pleasant but not quite right, like the smell of preserved apples.

I froze. That was the smell of apples. I ran into the dinning room, staring in horror at my brother sitting on the heavy metal table, a jar of stewed and preserved apples sitting half eaten between his knees. He looked at me and smiled.

“Dani! Want some?” he asked; such an innocent look on his face.

“What the hell are you doing?” I screamed, darting towards him and snatching the jar out of his hands. “Where’s the lid?” I cried, and shoved him off the table as I frantically searched for it. I found it under an old newspaper and quickly screwed it back on, hoping it wasn’t too late.

“I was hungry,” my brother said with a pout. “I asked for something to eat and you said to find something so I did.”

“I didn’t mean apples! Caleb you idiot you know better than that!”

I saw my seven year old brothers wide brown eyes begin to tear up, but this wasn’t the time to feel bad for yelling at him. He knew. He knew he was never, ever, allowed to eat the apples.

“I was only open for a minute,” he said, his words blurring together slightly. I could still smell them, that smell that I used to like, and now hate so much. It was still so strong, much stronger than it should be. I grabbed his hands; they were sticky from the juice and smelled sickeningly sweet.

“You picked an enhanced jar.” I said, feeling as though my throat was closing up. “You didn’t just pick a normal jar; you picked one that had a strengthened smell? Dammit Caleb!” I swore loudly, then swore again for being so noisy, and grabbed my brother’s arm, roughly dragging him to the kitchen where two buckets of water sat.

“I didn’t mean to,” he blubbered, “I thought it was a normal one. I’m sorry, Dani!”

“How the hell didn’t you smell it?” I said, remembering to keep my voice down. My tone was still harsh. “God damn you, Caleb! Just wash it off, all of it. Right now!”

Some people hated their little brothers because they were annoying. I hated mine because he seemed to be constantly trying to get me killed.

I dug around in the cupboard under the kitchen sink. I grabbed everything with a strong smell, everything that smelt of something other than fruit. Fly spray and stuff like that worked well, but I was saving it for worst case scenarios. I found rose scented air freshener, grabbed the can and sprayed it everywhere. Thickly around the jar of apples and the table, around the windows and my and by the blocked door. Then after Caleb had cleaned off all the apple juice, a very thick cloud around him. He coughed from the fumes but I didn’t care.

Then I grabbed my brother, and we sat, huddled in a closet. “They’re not coming,” he said. I shushed him irritably, but maybe he was right. Carefully, I inched open the door enough to glance out through the crack. I couldn’t really see anything since we kept the windows boarded, but there was a small gap where light shone through. I let out a slow breath, maybe they weren’t there.

The beam of light disappeared, and I jumped backwards, pulling the door shut. My heart thumped heavily in my chest, I tried to slow it down back to normal speed. No, they came.

A loud banging filled the air as something smacked on the window, trying to break it. Dammit! I wanted to scream and strangle Caleb.  There was a sound of smashing glass, and I heard my brother draw in a sharp breathe. I hugged him closer to me, so glad he didn’t smell like apples any more. A slow, heavy stomping resonated on the other side of our closet door, it’s thick, heavy breathing so loud it could have been right next to me. But it thankfully was moving away from us, towards the dinning room. No surprise there.

There was a loud grunt of anger, and then a screech filled the air, a high pitched, terrified sound. Like a young child would make. But it wasn’t Caleb. I clamped my hands over my ears, trying to block out the sound that threatened to make them bleed.

Go away, I thought desperately. Please, just go away.

The child’s scream went on an on, the terror in the sound getting more heart wrenching, before it stopped in a choked sound. It changed from a human cry to a throaty, guttural, animal sound, joined with the heavy thump as something slammed into the metal table. It must have been its ‘hand’, because that sound was joined by the sharp sound of its claws raking along the table.  I dug my face into Caleb’s hair, trying the stop the sob building in my throat. The slow stomps began again, coupled with short, angry roars, then the stops sped up as it ran and eventually left.

We sat in the closet for an hour in silence. Neither of us daring to move. I could hear Caleb’s breath catching. He was crying. “It’s okay,” I whispered as loudly as I dared, which wasn’t very loud. “It’s long gone by now. Stay here.”

I opened the door again, peering out. Light shined through the gaping whole in the window. I half expected to see it get blocked out again, but I waited ten minutes and nothing happened. I opened the door more and quietly stepped out of the cupboard, shutting the door quietly so Caleb was safe inside. I tiptoed to the dinning room, heart pounding harder and harder until I was sure it had enough strength the break my ribs. I stood against the wall, trying to build up the courage to look into the dinning room. I drew in a breath and held it. On the count of three. One... Two... Three! I looked around the corner and almost jumped out of my skin, not because there was something there, but because something wasn’t there. Though I had half expected it to happen.

The jar was gone. As I neared the table, I saw that in its place were long claw marks and strands of short white hair. Or it would be white, if it wasn’t covered with the dark red of dried blood.

I searched the rest of our small house – the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom, and the bathroom. All of which were completely devoid of anything, including furniture. That wasn’t anything new, though. Where was all of our furniture? Either turned into firewood or being used to board up doors and windows. Except of course the dinning room table, which was metal and too heavy to move. I sighed and slumped by shoulders. The dinning room smelt very strongly of urine. We would have to leave, and soon.

Because this was how we lived now.