I guess I’ll sit in darkness for now. Who knows, maybe a passerby will come to my aid; a knight in shining four wheel drive. I knew I should've purchased snow tires when i had the chance.
The light is all but gone now, and the cold is starting to bite. The wind has been howling, snaking the snow from the top of the car.
What was that? I saw a glimpse, a shimmer, a shadow. No. It's a light. It's up high and faint but maybe there's someone who can help; I'm not that far in the ditch after all.
I turn on the console light to ready myself. Zipping up my black coat with the warmer air I can get inside, I take a deep breath and hope maybe this puff of warmth will somehow protect me from the wind.
I fling the door open and trudge.
Passing through the drifts my ankles become furious from out of the cover of my capris, biting me for exposing them to this turmoil. Spiteful. I didn't plan to be outdoors. I planned to be comfortable. Loved. Cared for in his home.
The wind is pushing snow down my back and my spine bites me too. My skin is in full revolt, fighting against my actions. I should've dressed warmer. But how was I to know?
Coming closer to the light, I see that it's a flickering candle in an upstairs window. I didn't see this house before. how had I not seen it before?
It looks as if no one has touched this house in ages. Eons. I can practically hear the whole thing creak in the wind. Bending. Bowing. Breaking.
Upon reaching the porch I find the door open. Blown by the wind? Opened by the owner? Left ajar for the fortunate passerby? The unfortunate passerby? Dropping all pride and humility I come in uninvited, hoping to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.
Stepping through its broken halls it looks condemned. Still. I can no longer hear the wind. Through the holes in the walls I can see the flurries fight the world, but everything is silent.
Neither scratch nor creak accompanies my footsteps. My coat does not ruffle. I snap my finger next to my ear. Nothing. My breath comes quietly, not disrupting the drums of my ear. Not even my heartbeat dares combat the shifty stillness.
I step heavily, trying to alert the owner to my presence. I hear nothing. I call out to the owner; wishing to tell them I am here. I hear nothing.
Maybe I need some water. Perhaps the plumbing still works. The halls seem to be getting longer. Their torn wallpaper tearing into my sanity.
Through the dim light I can hardly make out figures that may be furniture. Chilling drafts dig into my bones and carry with them the pungent scents of dust and mildew. I cannot hear the breeze that carried them.
The Kitchen is in need of generous TLC. The floorboards are blackened with mold and the white of the fridge has grown a yellow hue. I shiver to the sink and optimistically turn the tap.
It spurts to silent life and bubbles brown water from its spout. The water goes down the drain without ever touching the sink basin. Without ever making a sound. I'm desperate. But not that desperate. Deafness can't be THAT bad.
Making my way through the house with senses heighten-only to sense nothing-I find my way upstairs. Stepping into the first room all anxiety leaves me. I feel warm and welcome. Home
I find a rocking chair facing a window which was devoid of glass and had been all but boarded up.
The window sill held nothing other than a candle and some matches. Between the boards in the window there is only enough room for the candle to be seen from outside and a crack up higher that I could look through.
I strike up a match and light the candle. It sputters to life and something catches my eye outside. A glimpse, a shimmer, a shadow. No. A light.
There's a car off the road in the ditch outside. They should've purchased snow tires while they had the chance. The console light came on. A girl got out.
She trudges toward the house in a black jacket and capris. She should've dressed warmer. I can hear the wind again. Hear the house creaking, bowing, bending, breaking. I hear her steps on the porch.
My apprehension returns. My skin flushes and then immediately loses color. A shutter shakes my soul as a strangeness sweeps into the depths of my heart.
A hand reaches over my shoulder and smothers the candle.
The room goes dark as a hand covers my mouth. Trying to scream, I hear nothing. the house is silent. Not even a heartbeat dares combat the shifty stillness.