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Ashley Toomey 2017-2018

Just You and Me

Take me away to the darkest of places,

Take me away to the place I imagine,

Take me away to the sanctuary I’ve been waiting for,

Take me away, I’ve been waiting for so long.

The black and white petals among the big old oak tree,

The creaky floorboards of the house among the forest,

The swish of the long grass as we run through together,

Just you and me in our forbidden world.

We’ll climb the trees that reach the clouds,

We’ll climb so high that we’ll reach outer space,

We’ll levitate around in our forbidden utopia,

Just you and me in the deepest depths of our world.

Take me away to the world inside my head,

Take me away to the world that I so awfully desire,

Take me to a world where I don’t live in distress,

A world that can only be mustered in my head.


He sat down on the couch and stayed stagnant, the sound of the clock ticking become louder whenever it moved. The clown glared at him from the mantelpiece, giving him an eerie tingle down his back. The chandelier flickered on and off, then the room was plunged into darkness.


His breathing grew louder and his heartbeat quickened, the sound of the clock becoming deafeningly loud. He stayed completely quiet, knowing that if he moved he would mess everything up and he would be found.


He heard the door to the room creak open, and hushed footsteps enter the room. It ambled around the room for a while, then all went quiet. He could no longer hear the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece, which could only mean it had stilled all the sounds. Sweat poured down his forehead and a tear rolled down his face, but he stayed still. He was terrified.


A few minutes, or what felt like an eternity after everything went silent, he heard something breathing in his ear. He felt like whimpering but he knew he would be exposed if he did, it relied only on its hearing. A sharp object caressed his cheek and he jerked slightly, but he was too rigid to actually make any noise so it didn’t detect anything. He heard it walking away and the door creaked shut. He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding.


The chandelier above him began to rattle and the light turned on, illuminating the room with brightness. He had to blink a few times to get his eyes used to the light. He looked up to the mantelpiece where he’d seen the clown last and it was absent. The chandelier flickered again and he whimpered, thinking that it would come back once again. But the light never went off so he got up and trudged to the door, peeking through the keyhole. The hallway outside of the room was dimly lit, which meant it wasn’t near. It didn’t like the light. He clutched his key and unlocked the door, wandering out into the dimly lit hallway and locking the door behind him. He tiptoed into the hallway, out the front door and onto the porch.


There were no lights outside to guide his footsteps but he sprinted anyway, afraid that somehow it would be able to leave the house and come after him even though the house was its breeding ground. He went to grab his phone from his pocket to call someone but then discovered it wasn’t there. Cursing, he paced back to the house, almost tripping on a root sticking up from the ground. It was a warm and humid night and he had sweat dripping down him from having to run away and come back again. He made it to the porch and grabbed a knife that he’d placed on the ground earlier.


Of all places, he’d left his phone in the room.


He walked into the house and a floorboard creaked slightly, making him jump. A light flickered and sweat ran down his forehead as he made his way down the hallway to the room at the end. He heard police sirens in the distance and he frowned, knowing that he’d have to move fast or he’d get caught. He stood at the door and hastily unlocked it with his key, not caring to peek through the keyhole to see if there was any light coming from the room.

Opening the door, he could see that he’d made a huge mistake as the room was pitch black. He fumbled for his key and tried to slam the door shut but the door stopped moving and he wasn’t able to push it shut. There was something on the other side of the door keeping it open. He gave up trying to shut it and let go of the door, trying to scurry to the end of the hallway and onto the porch. Not looking where he was running, he bumped into the table at the side of the hallway and fell to the ground, crying out when he felt his ankle give way and heard a sickening crack. The pain was too much to deal with and he tried to get up with his other foot but he was too slow. The lights in the hallway flickered and went out.


Police sirens could be heard in the distance, louder than they were before. He became rigid, too mortified to move. He felt it place its hand on his shoulder and he knew it was all over. It pulled him to the ground and he lay there, waiting for his inevitable death.


Pain went through the nerves of his frail body to his brain as it shoved it’s hand down his throat, but he didn’t feel like he was dying. Even as it pulled out his heart, he wasn’t dying. He was crying and trying to pull out his hair because the pain was too much, he wanted to die, but he couldn’t die. He laid there for a while coughing up blood and he heard it sauntering away from him.


He couldn’t get up or do anything, he was in too much immense pain. The police sirens were deafeningly loud, so he assumed they were here to get him and steal him away again. Suddenly, all noise ceased and all he could hear was ringing in his ears from the sirens. He heard heavy footsteps and there were policemen surrounding him.


One of them started to talk, “it’s going to be alright mate, we’re going to get you to a hospital and you’ll be fine.”


He replied weakly, “no, it’s not going to be alright. It’s here, it’s coming back for me. I’m going to die; I don’t know why I haven’t yet. It already has my heart but it wants my brain. I’m going to die. You need to get out of here, it’s going to kill you.”


The policemen looked at each other. One of them whispered to the other, “You think he’s escaped from a mental institution or something?”, then in a louder voice he said, “look mate, you’re hallucinating or something, there’s nothing here to hurt you or us, we’re quite safe. You’ve just stabbed yourself with a knife.” He reached for something in his belt and grabbed a tranquilizer.


He tried to struggle away from the needle but it was no use because he was in too much pain and the others were holding him down so he couldn’t break away. He howled as the policeman brought down the needle and jabbed him with it.


“You need to run away, it’ll get you soon.” His voice was strained and he could hardly process anything that was happening. A tear rolled down the side of his face, the hallway and the chandelier above him started to go blurry and then everything went blank. He was no more.

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