Sitting in the Dark

Isabelle

As a psychologist, I'm used to sifting through mental "clutter" with my patients. Trauma-induced clutter caused by alcoholic parents, spousal abuse, grief, dysfunctional brain chemistry, and loss. The list is extensive. Together, we tackle the mental clutter one item at a time, packing away some and throwing others away. It's a lengthy process but necessary for healing.

The clutter around me right now, however, is not of the mental kind. The moment we stepped into the room, it was apparent that this room had been some sort of "catch-all" during the last few years. The space screams for therapy, and I have no idea how to process the boxes upon boxes of clutter. It's a good thing we have a house therapist who follows me inside, whistling and carrying a roll of refuse bags. Josh clearly has an uncomplicated plan he wants to put into action.

Lucy also joins us, carrying her ever-present sketchpad and pencils, and makes herself at home on a clear area of the dirty floor.

Feeling heavy-hearted, I run my eyes over the room's interior and its sad jumble. This house has been sitting in the dark for a long time, untouched and unloved. Sam and Josh spent many days and nights in the dark with it, slowly leading it back into the light, one room at a time. However, this was one of the rooms on the upper floor they hadn't gotten to yet.

Sam, Josh and I often sat together in the dark as children. Not in a physical sense but the emotional dark we feel when faced with something we can't process.

The first time I sat in the dark with them was on a sunny afternoon, and a light breeze in the air carried the fragrance of flowers along with it. Sam wasn't in school that day, and we were worried, so the moment school let out, Josh and I went on a mission to find him. We headed straight to his house, which made sense as the first place to look for him, but we didn't find him there.

We were around 11 or 12 years old and couldn't quite understand why there was an ambulance and a police car in front of Sam's house; we knew it had to be something serious, though and worried that something might've happened to our friend.

Sam's father spotted us while talking to a police officer; his face was distorted with grief, and his eyes were dreary with tears. When he saw the anxious looks on our faces, he shook his head to indicate that Sam was not there.

We left to search the tree house in the woods, but he wasn't there either. Josh finally suggested that we check out the cave we found the previous summer. It wasn't much of a cave, really, more like a rock overhanging a crevice, deep and wide enough to hide in. This is where we found Sam, huddled in the dark of the rock shelter.

He didn't say anything, and neither did we. We simply sat on either side of him. We were just three kids huddled in the dark together in silence. That's the day Sam's mother lost her fight against depression.

"Mom!"

Startled, I look up at Lucy, standing over me with a puzzled expression on her sweet face. I'd been so lost in thought, holding onto the sides of the box I was about to go through, that I didn't even see her rise and come over to me.

"I'm sorry, Luce. What did you say? I was... daydreaming."

Frowning, she stares at me for a second; she probably knows I was thinking about Sam. "Can I go explore a bit, please? I'm bored," she asks.

"I... I'm not sure." I look at Josh for input, as he will have a better idea than me whether it is safe for Lucy to run around alone in this big old house.

"Sure, she can explore," he nods, rising from the box he was digging in. "I'll show her which areas are safe. Most of the unsafe areas have been closed off anyway."

I nod, but I still feel a bit concerned.

"Unsafe?" Lucy asks, looking uncertain now.

"Just floors that aren't sturdy and will make you walk like a pirate who hasn't gotten his sea legs yet," Josh replies and does a funny walk that's apparently supposed to be a pirate walk. He has always been a show-and-tell kind of guy, using sound effects and props when he needs to tell you something. Even if it is only that he forgot to bring the mayonnaise you asked him to buy on his way over for dinner. The guy truly missed his calling. "Come on, I'll show you."

Giggling, Lucy follows him, and together, they pirate-walk out of the room, leaving me quite alone in a dark place of my own.

***

Lucy

Uncle Josh showed me all the rooms I shouldn't go into because of the wonky pirate floors and the probability of bugs. I don't mind bugs, but I don't like spiders, and I'm sure there will be spiders in those rooms. It's okay, though, because there are many other rooms I can explore that hopefully won't have spiders living in them. I know spiders do a good job eating other bugs, especially nasty ones like mosquitos, and that they are more scared of us, but they still give me the heebie-jeebies.

Walking around alone in this old house is a bit creepy, but I like exploring and pretending to be a ghost hunter. I don't think there are ghosts here, though. Why would ghosts want to stay in an old, broken house like this anyway? If I were a ghost, I would hang out somewhere fun, like the zoo.

I know Mom was thinking about Daddy earlier. She gets this look on her face, and then I just know. That's really why I wanted to explore, not because I was bored but because she looked sad, and I started to feel sad too. I miss Daddy; Mommy never looked sad when he was around.

This house doesn't have dark and twisty hallways like most houses in haunted house movies. I don't think I'll get lost. Some of the rooms are full of dusty shapes that are probably furniture or maybe more boxes of junk. Some are dark because their windows are boarded up, while others no longer have windows, and the light can just shine right into them. I think birds and other animals can come in through those windows and cause all kinds of mischief.

Maybe that's what I saw last night? It could've been a bird or something, but my mind played tricks on me because I was still half asleep. Thinking about last night makes my tummy flutter for a moment, and I stand still to listen for sounds that shouldn't be here.

I can hear the workers doing their jobs all over the place and Uncle Josh talking to Mom. He is very loud! I can also hear some... What is that? Laughter?! It doesn't sound like grown-up laughter. It sounds like a kid. Maybe one of the workers didn't have a babysitter, and they brought their kid with them.

I start to walk again but stop almost immediately when the laughter floats like bubbles through the air, tickling inside my ears. It is a lot closer this time.

What if the kid is in one of the rooms with the wobbly pirate floors, and they fall?! Or what if something falls on them, breaks all their bones, and crushes them? What if they are very little and they get lost? I'm not sure what I should do. Should I call Mom, or should I look for the kid?

There isn't much light in the hallway, but I can see someone moving near the other end of it. It's a small figure, scurrying around in the shadows, and then it disappears into one of the rooms over there.

"Hey!" I call out, but not too loud. I don't want to scare him or her. I carefully move in that direction but stop when I see a small hand pop out of the room's doorway, wave at me and disappear again.

Is the cheeky brat playing games with me now?!

"Wait!" I shout. "Maybe you shouldn't go in there!"

I hurry to the room and stop just outside, carefully leaning around the doorjamb and sticking my head inside to take a peek. All I can see is a very old-looking bed and some more things, all covered in sheets. There is no kid in here, and I don't like looking at all those sheet shapes. The dust fairies floating in the air are making me sneeze.

I don't like this stupid game!

My stomach feels funny like a whole swarm of big fat butterflies got inside it and are fluttering around like crazy. I don't want to go into the dusty room. It's too dark, and it has too many shadows in there. Looking inside makes me feel weird.

What if the kid gets hurt or even sick from all the dust?

"Hey. Don't be scared," I say, in case the kid is not playing games but just afraid of me since I'm probably much bigger and wiser, but I think I'm the one who sounds a bit scared; my voice has gone all hoarse and strange, like when I had a bad cold. "Please come out."

No one answers, but I can see something moving at the back of the room. I swallow with a loud gulp and slowly walk into the room with legs that have started to tremble. If Davy Summers, a stupid boy in my class, saw me now, he would call me a wimpy crybaby again, so I lift my chin, look the shadows in the eye and step deeper into the room.

"Hello?" I whisper, not knowing why I'm whispering, but it seems to be the right thing to do. "Can you come out?"

I hear something moving: scrapes on the floor and scratches against the sheets. I'm trying to figure out where the sounds are coming from, but they are not sticking to one spot. There are too many shadows in this room, and they all seem to move.

"Are you s-stuck-?"

The door slams shut behind me with a loud bang and jumping around, I run to it, grab the door handle, twist and pull as hard as I can, but it won't open! It is stuck!

It is too dark in here with the door closed; I can barely see the outline of the doorknob. I throw myself against the door, but I'm too light, and I think the door opens into the room. It didn't even feel my attack. I can hear someone breathing loudly, and when I gasp and hold my breath, I realise I'm hearing myself.

I'm scared!

"MOM!" I scream, no longer caring about anything Davy Summers might have to say and bang my fists against the door, hurting my hands.

I hurry to turn around when I hear shuffling sounds behind me. My lungs are closing up, and I'm gasping for air, but the air is too thick; it won't go into my lungs. I'm choking on the dust. A shadow has broken away from all the other shadows and is slowly coming towards me.

I don't think it is a kid, after all!

"MOMMY! MOMMY!" I scream, pressing my back against the door. My eyes feel stiff and wide in my head as I watch the shadow move closer and closer.

***

Isabelle

"MOMMY!"

The anguished sound of my daughter's terrified screams rips through my heart with jagged nails, and I turn my head to give Josh a horrified look. My numb fingers drop the old photo album we were happily paging through a second ago, and it lands on the floor with a loud thud, spurring us into action like the starter gun at a race.

For once, Josh is not joking around, and I struggle to keep up with him as he sprints down the passageway leading to the other side of the house, leaping over boxes and dodging displaced furniture. I follow as best I can, urged on by Lucy's heartrending cries for help.

"MOM! Please!"

My heart jumps into my throat each time my daughter's calls of distress reach my ears, the sobs of fear distorting the usually sweet sound of her voice. It feels like an eternity before we reach a closed door behind which Lucy is screaming and banging against the unyielding wood.

"Here," Josh says and grabs hold of the doorknob, his muscles straining in his shirt sleeves as he tries to open the door. He pushes, and he pulls, and he leans into it with his shoulder, but the door is not budging, and I can hear my little girl, alone and terrified, on its other side.

"Luce, I'm going to kick in the door!" Josh yells, trying to make himself heard over Lucy's screams. Hearing his warning, she settles down.

"Okay," she agrees in a small voice, breaking my heart.

There are two things I'm highly grateful for right now. One, the doors in this place are all at the brink of death due to old age, and two, Josh might look like he's about to audition for a role in One Piece, with his sun-bleached, unruly hair and his goofy shirt, but he is strong, and he is determined to get my little girl out of whatever trouble she is in.

One hard kick and the door splinters like half-burnt firewood, and without wasting a second, Lucy bursts from the shadowy darkness and runs, sobbing, into my waiting arms.

***