sinseven

There was a room located across the hall from Samantha. She would peek her tiny head out from inside her room and peer at the french doors that were opposite from hers. Once, she remembered waking up in the middle of the night, her forehead matted with sweat that made her hair stick to her skin. She sat up and looked toward her door, which was cracked open slightly. A head a little larger than hers peered in, just as she had peered out into the hall. The eyes were black and huge and, in the moonlight cascading from between her curtains, the skin was crystalized pale blue. There was a faint smile and the door closed.
When she woke up later that morning, when it was still slightly dark outside, she rubbed her eyes and pressed her ears into the pillow, whimpering. She could hear her mother crying shrilly shrieking cries. Her father was saying things loudly to her, but not angrily. His voice was overly frustrated and tired. It was all coming from outside her room in the large upstairs hall.
Samantha climbed out of bed and slid her Tweety bird slippers onto her rather small feet, feeling her toes squishing under the plush material. As she padded across her room tiredly, the bird head resting over her toes bobbed mockingly. She reached up and pulled open her door, tilting her head as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the hall. Her mother stopped crying and covered her mouth, looking back at her. Her father didn�t bother turning toward her, just stood looking into the dark room across from hers.
The walls weren�t blue like they always had been. They were painted blue to match the outside of the house. Instead, rusted red streaks slashed over the floor and the walls. Words spilled and dripped down slowly, oozing quietly as though to taunt them. The smell was the worst, though. It smelled awful and decaying and disgusting. It made her stomach churn and her ears ring. Everything seemed red-brown and smelly to her.
�Mommy?� she whispered and finally let her tiny palm slide off of her door knob. In the darkness shadowing across the hallway, she could see faintly into the other room. Samantha couldn�t remember ever going into the room or seeing anyone else going into the room, but she always heard the door banging open and closed in the night and early morning. She never thought anything of it, though. She figured her mother and father must have kept something important in there. So important that even she couldn�t know about it.
She didn�t see any precious treasures, though. Or anything special at all. One of the twin doors was folded open and there was a small bed in the back of the room, easily seen through the doorway. On the messy covers stood a boy. She thought it was a boy, atleast. When you�re young and full of teddy bear kisses and daisy thoughts, it could have been an alien or a monster or a werewolf. All she knew was she didn�t like it.
Its back was turned to her and it slowly dragged its fingertips along the wall behind the bed, painting awful words and pictures. A head a little larger than hers turned back to her, as though he could twist his head around fully. The eyes were black and huge and in the fading moonlight cascading in from between the curtains, the skin was crystalized pale blue. There was a faint smile, then Samantha turned away and closed her door.
She curled up on the floor and the silence clawed vigorously into her forehead and temples. Her fingers clenched her nightgown as she glanced at the large Tweety heads, noticing they were coated in red paint. Red paint that smelled so ugly, so awful.