The Attic | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: The Attic | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jacqueline Julyan
10/10/17
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Outside she could hear gusting howling winds, the sounds were both eerie and comforting at the same time. Inside the attic were cries of frightened children, all huddled together, hidden out of sight.

Susanne looked on, as in a daze. Terror permeated her small body as she held on tightly to her brother's hand, with a vice-like grip. The door was locked and there was no way out, there never was.

She heard someone coming up the narrow wooden stairs heading towards the door of the attic. The beating of her heart increased ten fold and the cries of the other children, including her younger brother escalated and intensified. It was always at this peak of terror that she craved chocolate, anything sweet to take away the bile that began to climb her throat.

She knew it was the man before he even opened his mouth. The picture in her head of this man never went away. She could visualise the blackened rotting teeth, the stink of alcohol, together with a face covered in angry boils. She shuddered at the thought of what was to come.

He shook and rattled the door handle, continually roaring out.'Where's the bloody key John! You said it was here?' Then Infuriated he went back down the stairs.

There was a palpable silence, yet still the winds continued to howl and whistle louder than before. Susanne glanced around to see six small white drawn faces, terror still etched upon their faces. Susanne whispered to her brother,' He's gone' then blacked out into unconsciousness.

'Susanne? Susanne? It's alright. Your brother is here now...... '

Susanne, now in her middle fifties was laying stretched out in a hospital bed. She just managed to see through blurry eyes a uniformed nurse, standing at the foot of her bed. She tried to lift herself to a sitting position but her head wouldn't leave the pillow. Dazed, hurt, and confused with concussion, together with the worst headache she had ever had, she blurted out

'Where are the children? Are they alright? Are they safe? The door was locked! Then all of a sudden it opened! There was a man, a nice man dressed all in white, brilliant white, standing there!'

Susanne had finally remembered. She now remembered that at the exact moment of the appearance of the man dressed all in white, she had blacked out.

The worst memories of abuse in the attic had lain dormant for years, but every time a storm came with howling eerie winds, she had a great desire to eat chocolate. She couldn't seem to shift these deep nagging anxieties. Finally all the pieces of the puzzle of her childhood were making sense.

As Susanne mused over these thoughts, a big burly man entered onto her ward walking towards her bed. With a huge smile he carried an enormous bouquet of mostly blue flowers, mostly blue, because he knew just how much his sister loved the colour blue.

'Hey sis! What a storm!

'Brian! Oh Brian I'm so glad you came. Where are the children? Are they safe?'

Kissing her forehead he said,

'I came as soon as I could sis, all the roads were blocked!'

He touched her hand affectionately and gave it a slight squeeze to reassure her.

'I heard you got caught out in the storm walking your little mutt'. He touched the large bump and gash on her forehead before quietly answering her concerns.

'They are safe now Susanne, we are all safe now, it's okay sis, it's all okay now'.

With tears of relief, she sobbed quietly knowing the truth that she and her brother were safe now.

She never saw the other children again but now she clearly remembered that on that stormy night of howling gales so many years ago a miracle had truly taken place. They had all been rescued, delivered out as it were from a den of lions.

Susanne rested overnight in hospital, her brother by her side all night. Gale force winds continued to blow all through the night, but this time Susanne perceived the sounds to be that of a sweet lullaby rather than a mournful melancholy howl. Finally, She drifted off to sleep, at peace holding her brother's hand.

708 words
Part fiction/non-fiction

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