Chapter One
She woke up to a knock on her door, it took her a few seconds to even realize what it was. Mornings were always like this. The neighbors freaking out, and trying to break down her door. Her sheets soaked in sweat, some on the floor. You think they’d have grown used to it. She couldn’t even remember the nightmares anymore. She had told them all to just stop worrying and leave her alone. Groaning, she finally got up out of bed, and went to open the door. She was sure her hair was a mess.
“Are you alright, Cath? We heard the screams again. Everything okay? Do I need to call someone?” oh, fantastic. it’s mrs. malone, today.
“nope. i’m good. thanks for asking. go on home, now.” She half-shouted through the door, trying to avoid opening in it.
“Please, open the door Cath. We’re getting a bit scared. Come on, it’s Christmas.” what a lie, that is. it’s december 18th. a full week left. She caved anyways, and opened the door. Crossing her arms over her
chest, she opened the door and half stamped her foot at the sudden cold breeze.
“Hello, Cath. How are you doing? Your parents are coming home tomorrow, aren’t they?” Mrs. Malone said, literally inviting herself in, and walking right into the kitchen, where she put on a tea kettle,
same as she did, at least thrice a week. “Are you still seeing that psych doctor, Cath? I think they might need to give you new meds.” She prattled on, clearly oblivious to the fact that Cath wasn’t listening
at all. This happened most days. And, if it wasn’t Mrs. Malone, next door, to the left. It was Ms. Newman, next door, to the right. Cath liked Mrs. Malone better. She was in her forties, and hadn’t ever had children, so she was an even better mother than Caths’. Mrs. Newman was a lawyer, and never particularly nice.
“no, mrs. malone. i stopped seeing him a while ago. he wasn’t very good. and it’s a genetic problem, not a psychiatric problem.” That was partially true. Her grandmother had had the same problem. Once. She
thought.
“Hmmm... Alright, dear.” Now, she had started making scrambled eggs, so Cath stopped talking. Mrs. Malone was an excellent cook.
Mrs. Malone stayed over for the next few hours, doing enough talking for both of them, and then some. Mrs. Malone always stayed overlong, but Cath didn’t mind. She loved the company.
Caths’ parents were university lecturers. They taught all over the world, and never stayed in any one country for more than a few weeks. Ever since she was 14, they’d left her behind in Chicago, with the
neighbors checking in on her. Before that they’d just left her with relatives whenever they weren’t in town. Which was far too often. She’d been homeschooling herself most of her life. She didn’t complain. Left her more time to watch movies and stuff.
i mean, yeah, im lonely, and don’t really leave the house. and, yeah, i only talk to a woman in her forties. but, i like my life. ... right?
Mrs. Malone didn’t seem to notice as Cath drew further and further into herself, just thinking. Not paying any attention whatsoever to her. After Mrs. Malone had stayed over for lunch, and then left a
little before dinner, saying she needed to get home to her husband, Cath zoned further and further. Barely even nodding when Mrs. Malone left.
This probably wasn’t healthy. She could feel herself getting bad again, and her psychiatrist had told her that when she felt like this, she should extrovert herself and let her emotions out, etc, blah blah
blah. She wasn’t sure she wanted to get this bad, with her parents on her way home. They were supposed to be home any minute.
Two hours later, and she hadn’t moved a single inch, just thinking. Not particularly good thoughts. No texts or anything from her parents. Finally, she went to bed. Still home alone. She’d stayed up till midnight, hoping they’d show up eventually.
The next day went much the same. Only with pure hours of complaints and commiserations from Mrs. Malone, who didn’t seem to notice that Cath was retreating ever further into her own mind. That night, her parents finally showed up. At nine. No explanation, nothing. They simply walked in, and walked directly into their library. Only to leave shortly after, after failing to gain their attention.
She woke up coughing, and screaming. Her father was trying to pick her up, and carry her out of bed. Her eyes were watering, there was smoke in the air. She struggled, instinctively. Kicking and lashing out
against him, before realizing what was happening, and going limp. Everything was hazy and blurred. Soon, she passed out again.
Mrs. Malone was shaking her awake, crying profusely. Cath could see the fire behind her. Where her house used to be. How had this happened? This time, she fainted.
Chapter Two
It took a while to figure out exactly what had happened. The fire had started December 20th, at about 6 AM. According to the firefighters, her parents had knocked a candle over, and had hit one of the books
with the flame. The fire had quickly spread, the books being very old. Her mother had tried to save some of the books, while her father got her out, then went back for her mother and the books. Both her mother and father had died. Clutching their books, which had become ashes, in their arms.
Her parents had left money. But stipulations on how it could be spent. It could only be used for tuition. Nothing else. Mrs. Maloney tried to take her in, but Cath refused. She went directly into computer and
library science. There was enough money for her to have her own dorm.
Christmas Eve she moved into her own dorm, and silently lay alone in her own room. She refused to interact with anyone beyond the minimal hello’s, goodbye’s, yes, and no’s. She signed the necessary paperwork and refused to think of anything that had happened that night.
That night, near eleven, she crawled into bed, and allowed her thoughts to run back to that night.
Chapter Three
She didn’t think it was a good idea, but what did she have to lose? She went into her parents library. They collected rare books, and kept them all in there. She wasn’t ever allowed in, and she’d never been in without them. They kept the door locked, and took the key with them. She hadn’t been in here in years. So she went in. It was just over midnight. Now the 20th of December. They didn’t even look up from their books. Just kept on reading, while she walked up to their armchairs. Quietly she tried to get their attention for a few minutes, but they were too far gone in their books. So she left. And came back,
four hours later, at dawn. They were sleeping, in their armchairs, books on their laps. And she felt angry. Such anger. She didn’t know where it came from. She went into the garage, and came back with lighter fluid. In pure silence, she covered all the books.
She wasn’t thinking at all, she just did. She thought if their books burned, they might turn to her. Failing that, perhaps she’d manage to leave this life, and take them with her.
After spreading the fluid, she returned to her room. Silently, and without their notice, she went to bed.
That Christmas Eve, was the last night she ever had nightmares. Indeed, the last night she dreamed at all.
She woke up to a knock on her door, it took her a few seconds to even realize what it was. Mornings were always like this. The neighbors freaking out, and trying to break down her door. Her sheets soaked in sweat, some on the floor. You think they’d have grown used to it. She couldn’t even remember the nightmares anymore. She had told them all to just stop worrying and leave her alone. Groaning, she finally got up out of bed, and went to open the door. She was sure her hair was a mess.
“Are you alright, Cath? We heard the screams again. Everything okay? Do I need to call someone?” oh, fantastic. it’s mrs. malone, today.
“nope. i’m good. thanks for asking. go on home, now.” She half-shouted through the door, trying to avoid opening in it.
“Please, open the door Cath. We’re getting a bit scared. Come on, it’s Christmas.” what a lie, that is. it’s december 18th. a full week left. She caved anyways, and opened the door. Crossing her arms over her
chest, she opened the door and half stamped her foot at the sudden cold breeze.
“Hello, Cath. How are you doing? Your parents are coming home tomorrow, aren’t they?” Mrs. Malone said, literally inviting herself in, and walking right into the kitchen, where she put on a tea kettle,
same as she did, at least thrice a week. “Are you still seeing that psych doctor, Cath? I think they might need to give you new meds.” She prattled on, clearly oblivious to the fact that Cath wasn’t listening
at all. This happened most days. And, if it wasn’t Mrs. Malone, next door, to the left. It was Ms. Newman, next door, to the right. Cath liked Mrs. Malone better. She was in her forties, and hadn’t ever had children, so she was an even better mother than Caths’. Mrs. Newman was a lawyer, and never particularly nice.
“no, mrs. malone. i stopped seeing him a while ago. he wasn’t very good. and it’s a genetic problem, not a psychiatric problem.” That was partially true. Her grandmother had had the same problem. Once. She
thought.
“Hmmm... Alright, dear.” Now, she had started making scrambled eggs, so Cath stopped talking. Mrs. Malone was an excellent cook.
Mrs. Malone stayed over for the next few hours, doing enough talking for both of them, and then some. Mrs. Malone always stayed overlong, but Cath didn’t mind. She loved the company.
Caths’ parents were university lecturers. They taught all over the world, and never stayed in any one country for more than a few weeks. Ever since she was 14, they’d left her behind in Chicago, with the
neighbors checking in on her. Before that they’d just left her with relatives whenever they weren’t in town. Which was far too often. She’d been homeschooling herself most of her life. She didn’t complain. Left her more time to watch movies and stuff.
i mean, yeah, im lonely, and don’t really leave the house. and, yeah, i only talk to a woman in her forties. but, i like my life. ... right?
Mrs. Malone didn’t seem to notice as Cath drew further and further into herself, just thinking. Not paying any attention whatsoever to her. After Mrs. Malone had stayed over for lunch, and then left a
little before dinner, saying she needed to get home to her husband, Cath zoned further and further. Barely even nodding when Mrs. Malone left.
This probably wasn’t healthy. She could feel herself getting bad again, and her psychiatrist had told her that when she felt like this, she should extrovert herself and let her emotions out, etc, blah blah
blah. She wasn’t sure she wanted to get this bad, with her parents on her way home. They were supposed to be home any minute.
Two hours later, and she hadn’t moved a single inch, just thinking. Not particularly good thoughts. No texts or anything from her parents. Finally, she went to bed. Still home alone. She’d stayed up till midnight, hoping they’d show up eventually.
The next day went much the same. Only with pure hours of complaints and commiserations from Mrs. Malone, who didn’t seem to notice that Cath was retreating ever further into her own mind. That night, her parents finally showed up. At nine. No explanation, nothing. They simply walked in, and walked directly into their library. Only to leave shortly after, after failing to gain their attention.
She woke up coughing, and screaming. Her father was trying to pick her up, and carry her out of bed. Her eyes were watering, there was smoke in the air. She struggled, instinctively. Kicking and lashing out
against him, before realizing what was happening, and going limp. Everything was hazy and blurred. Soon, she passed out again.
Mrs. Malone was shaking her awake, crying profusely. Cath could see the fire behind her. Where her house used to be. How had this happened? This time, she fainted.
Chapter Two
It took a while to figure out exactly what had happened. The fire had started December 20th, at about 6 AM. According to the firefighters, her parents had knocked a candle over, and had hit one of the books
with the flame. The fire had quickly spread, the books being very old. Her mother had tried to save some of the books, while her father got her out, then went back for her mother and the books. Both her mother and father had died. Clutching their books, which had become ashes, in their arms.
Her parents had left money. But stipulations on how it could be spent. It could only be used for tuition. Nothing else. Mrs. Maloney tried to take her in, but Cath refused. She went directly into computer and
library science. There was enough money for her to have her own dorm.
Christmas Eve she moved into her own dorm, and silently lay alone in her own room. She refused to interact with anyone beyond the minimal hello’s, goodbye’s, yes, and no’s. She signed the necessary paperwork and refused to think of anything that had happened that night.
That night, near eleven, she crawled into bed, and allowed her thoughts to run back to that night.
Chapter Three
She didn’t think it was a good idea, but what did she have to lose? She went into her parents library. They collected rare books, and kept them all in there. She wasn’t ever allowed in, and she’d never been in without them. They kept the door locked, and took the key with them. She hadn’t been in here in years. So she went in. It was just over midnight. Now the 20th of December. They didn’t even look up from their books. Just kept on reading, while she walked up to their armchairs. Quietly she tried to get their attention for a few minutes, but they were too far gone in their books. So she left. And came back,
four hours later, at dawn. They were sleeping, in their armchairs, books on their laps. And she felt angry. Such anger. She didn’t know where it came from. She went into the garage, and came back with lighter fluid. In pure silence, she covered all the books.
She wasn’t thinking at all, she just did. She thought if their books burned, they might turn to her. Failing that, perhaps she’d manage to leave this life, and take them with her.
After spreading the fluid, she returned to her room. Silently, and without their notice, she went to bed.
That Christmas Eve, was the last night she ever had nightmares. Indeed, the last night she dreamed at all.
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