Shadow's Turning- Part 8

Night had fallen according to the clock.

The eerie silence was starting to wear on me.  I couldn’t even hear them walking around above me anymore.

Had something happened?  Were they just waiting?

Maybe I should check…

Standing up, I walked over to the door and removed the bar before unlocking it.  Reaching for the doorknob, I tried to turn it.

Locked.

I began pacing back and forth in front of the door.  Maybe if I got the hinges off…

I turned toward the room, looking for something that would help me do it.

I didn’t see anything on my first scan and immediately abandoned the idea.  It would take too long anyway.

I needed to get out there right now.

I pressed myself up against the door, the cool smoothness of it against my front in an unbroken line.

I jerked as I heard a crash from somewhere upstairs, followed by a quick series of thuds.

The sound of something scraping against the floor above rippled through me.  The room shuddered and the lights flickered off and on as something was smashed.

Heavy footsteps sounded above me.

I closed my eyes and listened as they moved away.

The shrill creak of a door opening tore through the air.  An odd clicking and what sounded like the wind sighing through the trees underscored the quiet above.

My already fast heartbeat increased until it felt like it was bruising my chest.

The groaning of the stairs as weight shifted onto them reached me.  The slow methodical steps continued, louder now.

Clearer.

If I could have melted through the door and come out the other side, I would have.

The footsteps stopped right outside the door.  A charged silence fell.

All I could here was the pounding of my heart in my ears.

My breathing became labored as I screwed my eyes shut harder, tears starting to leak out.  The door was shaking and I couldn’t figure out why until I realized it was me.

I was shaking.

I let out a harsh sob and began throwing my body at the door.  I felt oddly detached from myself, as if I stood back, watching myself lose control.

Maybe restraints would have been a good idea.

The coppery red tasted of blood coated my tongue and I realized I must have bitten the inside of my lip.  The sting of it was lost in the frenzy to get out, to get to what I needed.

This thin piece of wood could not hold me.

I wouldn’t let it.