Post by Abby Whistler on Apr 11, 2005 19:58:21 GMT -5
The door was locked.
Abby supposed it was habit. She couldn't remember a time in her life where she didn't feel she had to lock her bedroom door. It wasn't as if she was afraid; far from it. If anything unwelcome came blasting in or simply creeping, well, she'd have a messy stain to clean off the floorboards.
Still, she felt unsecure in her room unless it was locked, even now. She couldn't sleep otherwise. She blamed her childhood for it. She blamed Oprah for blaming her childhood. She was always told to lock the door before she slept by her mother. The seriousness in her voice, when she said it. It was not something to be taken lightly. Very clearly, inbetween each unspoken word she could hear the fear in her voice. It wasn't like the warning of look both ways before you cross the street or don't talk to strangers: serious, but not quite the same. No, locking the door was serious business. If you didn't, something unspeakable would come and get you.
Abby Whistler didn't want anything to get her. So she locked the door.
Even after she asked the questions that got her where she is today, she locked. Even after bringing ugly, righteous death to the things her mother whispered about, she still locked the door.
It kept them out. Mostly. It also kept out unwelcome Nightstalkers who liked the "borrow" things and not return them. If one more thing was "borrowed", it would get nasty.
So really, locking the door was best for everyone.
Abby supposed it was habit. She couldn't remember a time in her life where she didn't feel she had to lock her bedroom door. It wasn't as if she was afraid; far from it. If anything unwelcome came blasting in or simply creeping, well, she'd have a messy stain to clean off the floorboards.
Still, she felt unsecure in her room unless it was locked, even now. She couldn't sleep otherwise. She blamed her childhood for it. She blamed Oprah for blaming her childhood. She was always told to lock the door before she slept by her mother. The seriousness in her voice, when she said it. It was not something to be taken lightly. Very clearly, inbetween each unspoken word she could hear the fear in her voice. It wasn't like the warning of look both ways before you cross the street or don't talk to strangers: serious, but not quite the same. No, locking the door was serious business. If you didn't, something unspeakable would come and get you.
Abby Whistler didn't want anything to get her. So she locked the door.
Even after she asked the questions that got her where she is today, she locked. Even after bringing ugly, righteous death to the things her mother whispered about, she still locked the door.
It kept them out. Mostly. It also kept out unwelcome Nightstalkers who liked the "borrow" things and not return them. If one more thing was "borrowed", it would get nasty.
So really, locking the door was best for everyone.