Glass Walls

Chapter 5

My punishment for breaking the mirror is brutal. Every room in the house has to be spotless. I have to sweep, do dishes, clean toilets, rearrange furniture. He's even making me repaint the upstairs bathroom! Not to mention I have to clean the barn. No tv for a week and he lectured me again.
I couldn't stand to look in any mirror after that matter. I went to school wondering if I had bed head or how my outfit looked on me.

Darkness settles over the room like a blanket when I turn off the light. I embrace the warmth of my bed and wrap myself in fluffy blankets. I don't know why I decide to wear shorts and a camisole to bed when it's always winter in this house. My earbuds are across the room so I just play my music out loud.
Sleep hits me like a brick.
                            ***
It's still dark when I wake up. My music isn't playing anymore so I check my phone. Battery's dead. A red 1:35 shines brightly on my alarm clock. I've only had two hours of sleep so far. "Ughh."

I roll back over and shut my eyes. Floorboards in the hallway creak. Whatever.
The creaking noise gets louder and fades a little until I hear the footsteps above me. I recognize the retched squeaking noise of old hinges. Our attic door has always made creaking sounds. Even with the attic being on the third floor I can still hear it. I sit up in bed and wait for any other noises. Nothing.
The attic door is always locked and the only one with the key is my father.  It's about 2am, footsteps in the hallway, the attic door opened, my dad has the only key to the attic. Yeah, something is definitely up.
I slip out of bed and my bare feet touch the icy wooden floor. My door only creaks occasionally and if it does it isn't loud. My eyes are still adjusting to the dark. The drowsiness still has a grip on me so I try my best to stay alert. I slowly take light steps forward.
Stairs leading to the third floor are a couple yards ahead. These stairs are older than the ones leading to the second floor. The first floor staircase was restored because the wood was aging.
The stairwell is extremely narrow and dark. The ceiling keeps threatening to hit my head. I hate the third floor and it hates me right back. The floorboards are on the spongey side and I was afraid of falling through.
Honestly I don't see why dad can't close off this whole section of the house. No one even uses it and it's small with about four rooms.

A tattered rotting mess stands between me and my dad. The white paint is chipping terribly off the edges of the scratched up door.
Since I can't open the door or he could hear me so I press my ear against it, yet I can't hear a thing.

My heart races as I slowly open the door inch by inch. It squeaks with every ounce of  movement so I have to stop. The crack is tiny but I might be able to slip through the doorway. Back against the wall, I suck my stomach in, and side step to the left. It absolutely reeks in here. My lungs refuse to inhale the putrid air.
I cover my face and advance. Another set of stairs lies in front of me but these ones are shorter. When I go up the stairs I crouch down so he won't see me.
He's definitely saying something but it's too soft to make out words. A spider running across my arm distracts me from my dad. I brush it off frantically. My skin tingles from where the spider had crept across me.
"Why don't you answer me?"
I crawl forward some more until I can see him. He's crouched on the floor. Who's he talking to? Is he on the phone?
"Just leave already! I can't take it!" he whispers intensely.
Goosebumps form on my skin. All of a sudden he starts throwing things. I can make out a chair being thrown. It smashes into pieces. He starts hitting the wall and tries his best not to yell, but animal like noises come out of his mouth.

I start backing away slowly. The noise allows me to make a quicker escape. The floor creaks and spiderwebs tangle themselves around my body. I slide through the door and half run half walk through the hall. I bump into the walls as I fly down the stairs. I don't stop until I'm in my bedroom.
I don't think he heard me but I'm not waiting around to find out. I throw my blankets over me and curl into a ball. What. The. Fuck.
Crashing noises echo above me. I cover my ears but it's too loud to block out.
What scares me most is the abrupt silence. My heart is beating a thousand times a second. Eerie creaking and squeaking of floorboards paralyze me with fear. The footsteps are directly above me.
They pace the room in circles and soon enough I hear the attic door.
Creeeeeeeeeereeooww!
It's not long before the footsteps are outside my room.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The wall takes another blow from the door, but not nearly as bad. I shut my eyes as tight as I can. He sits on my bed beside me and places his hand on my shoulder. This was the touch of a father,not a psychopath, I was sure.
"No one's going to hurt you. You're safe." he whispers. It was more of a statement to reassure himself. He sits there and it feels like hours, days, years. He mutters something and walks out.
I blink tears away. What just happened? Who was he talking to? What if dad takes his anger out on me? I remember the chair being thrown across the room. The cracking noise of the chair exploding in the air. I don't want to stay here much longer if this is how he's going to act.