Dust On The Window

Chapter One Confession: Evidence File/22-3a/. Case Tag "The Night Is My Name"

From A Report Filed Three Weeks From Now:

The wind rattled the edges of the tattered-grey window frame, sending clouds of bleak dust from the antique glass panes to the cold wooden planks below. Gnarled and shredded powdered-blue curtains sent grim shadows lurking along the crumbling yellow plaster like a wave of huddled and twisted footmen marching to the beat of some un-seen drum; called onward across the battlefield of peeling paper and the fading light sent forth by the the timid winking of the hidden sun. The shadows stopped and leaped along the rear wall in a taunting frenzy as the leaves outside brushed against the grimy black window-box. Swelling and shrinking in a kaleidoscope of sequences, taunting him to get up; calling him to take those first bold steps towards the door-frame and towards the fading glow of the orange evening sun.

The tortured planks overladen with the mold-stained plaster above creaked in the mild Autumn wind, reminding him of the inescapable prison that had kept him captive for so long now. Yet he knew that to dream of beyond, of out, of over, of freedom, was nothing but a false hope. He knew there was no escape.

He had paced endlessly along the perimeter of the old wooden door frame, felt the cool- icy bars which prevented his escape, gray and daunting, towering up along the framing to the ceiling. The windows too, had been attempted. He had run his gaunt hands along the icy bars before him for hours on end, tracing the barrier which had kept him confined within the stale crumbling tomb for so long.

All hope had left him in recent months, all hope of discovery, all hope of escape, all hope of a life beyond the dusty gray window. All memory too had fled, of roaming the outside world, beneath the fresh air uninhibited and unbound under the robin's egg sky. The endless days trapped behind that fearsome singular pane of dull glass, the lonely and shadow filled nights watching the moon trace its nightly voyage along the ocean of dry wooden floorboards. The long hours spent weeping tears so big they warped and filled the ancient boards beneath them.

Loneliness consumed him more and more each day. He had paced and paced for hours on end; wishing, yearning for a way out, any glimpse or possibility of escape. He had spent hours tracing each and every detestable iron rung. He had pulled at each and every floorboard, pried at the nails, on every inch of the old house. He had even attempted to dig a tunnel once, digging all day until he realized it was a much too lengthy approach. He had sat for hours digging and digging until his fingertips bled; but not an inch closer to an escape.

He gazed up at the thin pillars of cascading sundrops as they drizzled past the glass, through a wall of shimmering flecks of dust. He fell to the ground weighted by a mounting a sense of swirling panic and the slowly fading light above began quickly withdrawing from the dry brown flooring. It fled like the liquid quickly sucked from a cup by a yearning straw beyond it, as he watched.

He watched a solid sun's soothing glow begin to ebb and flow as quickly as the waning ocean tides, leaving behind in its wake only the frosty and lonesome shadows of the night to come. Tears filled his eyes as the wall of darkness and dust finally traced its nightly route along the floorboards towards his flannel strewn sleeping mat. With light too the shadow stole also the serenity of the birds beyond and the cool Autumn breeze, leaving instead only the bitter owls plea and the icy chill of nightfall.

"All was silent but for his gaze, loud eyes like cat's in a silvery pond, reflecting off the biting harvest moon."

"Pools of shadow filled his dreams, falling from the specter's lonely charge... A doorway figure?"

"Walking, asking, lying, crying!"

"Yes it is all,"

"No I cant,"

"Stay if you need theres plenty,"

"Im fine." Face of steel, five fingers toes, fleeing, fleeting, screaming, woes.

"Why?" cruel question stings. "Know the way?" fell demon sings.

"Crimson shadow writhes in glee. Lies lies lies... falling still."

"Darkness."