I walked upstairs to my room, turned on my light, and shut the door. I was absolutely exhausted. I got changed and hopped into bed, not worrying about brushing my teeth or washing my face. I reached over to turn off my light and saw my phone sitting on my bedside table. “Idiot,” I thought. “This whole thing could have been avoided.” I instinctively picked it up and flipped it open. It was three in the morning. Goddamn, it was later than I thought. I’m lucky I wasn’t caught. I paused. I had no missed calls. And if I was three hours late, why hadn’t my parents either called me or waited up for me? And surely they would have heard me ring the doorbell, let alone break down the door. I slowly got up and walked over to my door. I poked my head outside and listened. I couldn’t hear a thing. I pushed the door all the way open, and walked down the long hallway to my parents’ room. Everything was silent except for my breathing and the quiet creak of my feet on the carpeted floor. I turned on the light to the hallway, and then immediately turned it right off again. I didn’t want to wake them up. I got to their door and slowly turned the knob. Blood was pounding in my ears again as I pushed the door open. There was a slight creak, and I slipped into their room as silently as I could. It was completely quiet; I couldn’t hear or see a thing. I walked over to my mom’s side of the bed and looked around for her, but I couldn’t find her. I walked over to my dad’s side of the bed, but he wasn’t there, either. I ran back to the doorway and flicked the light on. There was nothing in the room. Frantically, I yanked my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed my mom’s cell phone number. It started to ring on my phone, but also in the room. Stairway to Heaven suddenly started to play from her cell phone. “And she’s buying a stairway, to hea—” I hung up the phone. The last note rang through the room and then suddenly stopped. I just stood there, listening—listening for something, anything all at. I ran toward the window and looked outside, but there was nothing out there. Everything was dark. I ran back toward the doorway and tripped. I tried grabbing the edge of the dresser, but only managed to knock over my mom’s jewelry box. I fell flat on my face, and the box came crashing to the ground. Like before, I just lay there, doing nothing but breathing. But this time, I wasn’t relaxed; I was shaking. I could feel my shirt sticking to my back with sweat and every sensation was amplified. The crash of the box resounded throughout the whole house. It hung in the air, and slowly faded back into nothing: this eerie, unnatural silence. I shot up and ran toward the doorway. My heart was pounding in my skull, and my hands were shaking violently. I needed to get out of here. I crashed through the door and ran down the stairs. Something was wrong. I could feel this silence surrounding me, pressing me in. I could feel that there was something there, something coming after me, something bad. I needed to get out of this house.
Abstraction
63