guess he doesn’t have a Facebook account. I thought everyone had an account these days. I mean, nothing is official unless it’s on Facebook, right? Turning off the computer, I grab the book and walk over to my bed and sit down. Opening it, I start reading:
“Then she noticed that there was something crunching under her feet. “I wonder, is that more mothballs?” she thought, stooping down to feel with her hand. But instead of feeling the hard, smooth wood of the floor of the wardrobe, she felt something soft and powdery and extremely cold. “This is very odd,” she said, and went on a step or two further. Next moment she found that what was rubbing against her face and hands was no longer soft fur but something hard and rough and even prickly. “Why, it is just like branches of trees!” exclaimed Lucy. And then she saw that there was a light ahead of her; not a few inches away where the back of the wardrobe ought to have been, but a long way off.”
-The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, C.S. Lewis
I throw the book across the room, watching as it falls to the ground near my closet. This book is so stupid. I can’t believe that Mrs. Applegate is making me read this. I wonder how close the movie is to the book…
Getting off the bed, I go and search for a snack. Grabbing an apple, I walk into the living and turn the TV on. Harry Dillion, the local news weatherman, is talking about the strange weather.
“Unexplainable weather patterns have been popping up recently all throughout the central part of the state. No storm systems have shown up on our radar systems, so there is almost no way for us to track these storms.”
I walk back into the living room and grab the jar of peanut butter to add to my apple slices. Opening the kitchen drawer, I grab out a butter knife and head back into the living room.
“Another Maine teen has been reported missing: seventeen year old Missy Granger was last seen walking home from school last Thursday.” A school photo of Missy flashes across the screen. “At the moment, police have no leads. This most recent report brings the total tally up to seven teens. If you have any information, call 1-555-STP-CRME.”
Seven teens? That’s a little scary. I turn the TV off, grab my snack, and walk back upstairs. Suddenly, I am overcome with an eerie feeling that leaves goose bumps on my arms. I look around the room, looking for anything strange or out of place, but can’t find anything. Everything is in order, but it feels like someone is watching me. The feeling leaves as quickly as it came, leaving me wondering if I ever even felt it.
I sit on the bed and prop myself against the wall, attempting to get comfortable. “Ugh, you can do this Ryanne. You need to do this,” I tell myself. Opening up to the page I left at, I begin to read again.
“And then she saw that there was a light ahead of her; not a few inches away where the back of the wardrobe ought to have been, but a long way off.”
I stop reading and look around, wishing that I could escape into another world that easily. It would be nice to go somewhere else—to start over fresh, with new people who don’t know of my history and can’t judge me because of it.
Finishing the chapter, I close the book and put it against my pillow. Looking around, I begin to realize how boring this weekend is going to be all alone in this house working on homework and studying. Oh joy. I bang my head against the wall. Realizing how much force I used, I am anticipating the loud bang and a headache to start, but it never does. The wall is soft. Confused, I turn around and look at it. It is the same off-white color it has always been. I touch the wall, not quite sure what I am expecting, but it doesn’t feel any different. The wall is cold and hard again.
Puzzled, I turn around and scan the room. The strange feeling has returned. The bottom of my stomach tightens and my airways constrict. I’m just being paranoid. Calm down. I always get like this when I’m home alone. Everything makes me paranoid. Every floorboard creak or electronic sound makes me question if I am actually alone.