WICKED LITTLE TOWN

CHAPTER ONE

As I embed my fingertips into the keys on my laptop, I think about the year I encountered in a small, lonely grey dead-end town. My experience with this town was only a year, a year to realize there was only one way and that was turning the hell back.

I come from a major city where there are transits and crime. Crime never reached my thinking as the city was so big. I grew to love the culture, ideas and small cafes you find at every corner. Every street had its own trend, smell and culture.

Oh god how I missed being back here but the thought of revisiting that small, deranged town again haunts me, will it ever me, will I ever get over the events that had happened?

I am going to take you back to when my mother first decided it was best to move to a town called “ manrow.” I never understood where the name, the first time we passed that sign entering hell. I always just thought, why not spell it M-A-N-R-O-E, like Marilyn. Of course, just like any other teen I was mad at my mother for having to move and leave the life I had for 16 years but I was not going to give her a hard time as my father has passed away four months prior to this decision. I knew my mother was only trying to make life easier for us, well for her, for her to move on with life and not look everywhere and see my father's face. If you must know, my father was brutally murdered in our own home.

I was at a friend's house at the time for a sleep over and my mother was working her nightshift at the hospital. My dad was a lone, afraid and getting tortured by the hands of a client he had. This client was apparently mad at my dad for selling them a car, but they were not able to make a payment due to losing his job. How may you ask was my father's fault? Yeah, I have no idea either it is something that never sat right me. I try not to dwell on too much and just move on but lately it has been getting harder and harder to cope with, hence, why my mother suggested I attend counselling.

Anyways, back to our journey passing the sign that made no sense what-so-ever, we noticed most buildings were quite old and needed some modern adjustments. I love culture but if you have five stores or whatever in your town, do something a bit different with them, brighten the town up.

I noticed that the town really lacked in fashion sense, I mean the children were still riding bikes with banana seats as well. Parents and teens almost looked the same age and the children looked like they were lacking some vitamins.

We finally got to our destination which was right close to the “downtown” or “whatever” you would like to call it. As pieces of me kept falling apart, coming to the realization that this is now my life. I swallowed the lump in my throat and helped my mother grabbed her bags so she can unlock the front door and take in the despair of our ugly, new yellow house.

Ever step I took the floor creaked; the smell of the house was almost a stale and dusty inhale. The previous owners apparently did not want their furnishing, they even kept a family photo above the fireplace. Observing the weird vibing photo I noticed they were wearing newer clothes and looked happy, oh well that can go right in the trash.

The night came so ever slowly, I crawled into this bed that was not mine closing my eyes wishing this was all a dream. I told myself that when I open my eyes, I will be back home.

Before I could shut my eyes, I heard a thump up in the attic, it startled me so much that I was frozen in my bed. My eyes wide open trying to have super night vision. I head the thump again except this time it was clearer, right above my room. Maybe it is a mouse knocking things over, or the wind coming through some open parts in the attic.

As I sat there and listened, I felt a presence in the corner of my eye, do I look? I looked fast and gasped almost giving myself a heart attack, oh thank god it is just the photo of the family that lived here previously. I must have brought it up with my intending to bring it up to the attic. I kept looking at the photo, but the goose bumps got more and more intense on my arms, flowing through my body, as I was fully concentrated the loud thump happened again.

That’s it, I knew I had a flashlight in my backpack I am going up there to investigate. I am also bringing that damn photo as well; their faces need to leave my sight. With courage I ran through the hallways right to the attic door, stopped dead right in my tracks realizing that the picture was no longer in my hands. I knew I had it with me, hence why I came here in the first place. As I walked slowly to back to my room, I noticed fear began to creep straight to my chest.

Both my heavy breathing and me trying to use my “night vision” I began to get slower as I approached my room. I looked everywhere in my room for the picture, but it was nowhere.

I walked down the stairs getting an intense feeling to go into the living room. As I approached the living room area and once, I looked back, I felt a faint almost like an outer body experience. The PICTURE was above the fireplace, how is that possible? I ran fast back up the stairs tempted to call my mother, but she was doing her night shift.

As I got closer to my room, I tripped on a box left in the hallway. I looked up to see that the attic door was wide open....