Cloud 69

46:

I climbed the stairs quietly, cautiously, too aware I was alone in the house. It was a strange feeling: wandering alone in someone else's house. I hardly like being alone in my own house, never mind someone else's.

I made it to the top of the stairs, half-startling myself when the floor beams creaked. I peered down the long hallway, the window at the end letting in the last rays of the sun as it set. 

This felt eerie. I didn't feel like I was alone. 

There was something in the air. There was something tense and heavy about the house, and the weight pressed on my shoulders like a phantom.

I tried to shake off the feeling, walking slowly down the hall, following the path of light from the window. I entered Carson's room, feeling less tense with the familiar smell of him lingering. 

I made my way over to the bookshelf lining the back wall of his room, scanning it carefully for the black book with tattered edges. I ran my finger across the middle row of books, my eyes following the trail as I continued my search.

Thump.

I turned at the noise. It was faint, not nearly a loud noise, but it was close by. There was a noise. I was sure of it. But I was alone. There was no one here.

I stared out the door of the room a few moments, waiting, expecting, prepared for something to show itself any second. When a minute had passed and nothing appeared, I returned my focus to finding the book. 

I was grateful to have found it soon after, desperately wanting to leave. 

With Carson's book in hand, I walked back down the hallway, the odd feeling still in my stomach. But once I was halfway back to the stairs, I heard more noises. Louder noises. And these ones were definitely real. 

I stilled, my feet glued to the floor beneath me, and my heart hammering in my chest. The noises continued; it sounded like feet shuffling.

I decided to follow the noise, deciding the smart decision was definitely for me to look for the source of noise while I was alone, without my phone, and weaponless. 

I continued down the hall, the noises become only slightly louder as I traced them to a door. 

Katie's door. The noises were coming from behind Katie's door. 

It was slightly ajar, and light peeked out from the small gap. Quietly, I pushed the door the rest of the way open. There, sitting on the bed, was a woman with her back to me. Her shoulders were slumped over, and her knees were pulled tightly beneath her. 

As she brought up a tissue to her face, she let out a final sniffle, quieting herself. She let out a small cough and ran her hand over her clothes, fixing them as she stood up and turned slowly to me. 

"Madeline," She breathed out, her eyebrows slightly raised. 

"Mrs. Daniels." 

Her hair was tied up in a french twist that would look elegant on her, had there not been many strands falling out of it in careless directions. Her eyes and face were red and puffy, and there were prominent tear stains running down her cheeks. Her face, overall, looked sunken in and hollow, the dark circles under her eyes only adding to the appearance. 

She turned to look away from me, glancing at the blank wall. "I-um, I wasn't expecting to run into anyone," She said, adding a small hint of laughter and assuming a fake smile and poised stature. 

"I didn't know you and Mr. Daniels were home."

"Oh, we're not. I'm not," She said quickly, wiping her face in a paranoid way as if hoping to hide from me that she was crying on her dead daughter's bed just moments before. I didn't know whether to feel angry or sympathetic towards her.