Quiet

First Place Winner of "The Door Was Unlocked" prompt contest.

               The door was unlocked.  Turning the handle, Dylan looked over his shoulder at me.  "Quiet," he mouthed.  I nodded vigorously and waited as he slowly opened the door, pushing it open inch by inch.  Footsteps sounded through the staircase behind us, sending the butterflies in my stomach to a frenzy. 

 

              "Hurry, Dylan," I whispered harshly under my breath, nudging his shoulder with my hand.  He glared at me out of anger, but no harsh look could hide the fear that was crystal clear in his big blue eyes.  I heard him suck in a breath before he pushed the door completely open.

 

              "You can't hide from me in my own damn house!"  Dylan grabbed my arm and pulled me into the room just as the man climbing the staircase reached the top.  Our father.  I had opened my mouth to say something when Dylan slapped his hand over my lips.  He was whispering something in my ear, but I couldn't hear him over the sound of my heart beating wildly in my chest. 

 

              Slowly he began to back up, hand still secured tightly over my mouth, my back firm against his chest.  It's only when I had calmed that I heard what he was whispering so softly in my ear.  "It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay," he soothed me with endless reassurances.  But I wasn't so sure. 

 

              This wasn't the first time our father had frightened us to the point of hiding.  Our childhood up to this point was belt-buckles and backhands.  Ten years, thirteen for Dylan, of being treated like the gum stuck to the bottom of his work boots. 

 

              Until now, we had never had a plan.  When our father raised his hand to us, we ran.  We were often split up and found one-on-one where our father would punish us for the mistakes we had made that afternoon. 

 

              Often my father wanted me alone.  To himself.  There in the dark he would remove his trousers, cover my mouth, and make me wish I was never born.  It was in moments like these when I wished so desperately for my mother.  Deep down, beneath the resentment and anger, I am happy she was able to escape the hand of my father; I only wish she would have taken us along with her. 

 

              I could hear his work boots in the hallway, the tread sticking against the hardwood flooring.  I could feel Dylan's heart thumping against my back, his breath on my neck.  "Where are you worthless pieces of-" my father's voice cut out and I heard him begin to chuckle.  "Gotcha."

 

              Squinting my eyes shut, I did what Dylan taught me to do in a situation like this one.  "He's trying to fake you out.  He doesn't really know where you are.  Right now he wants to you be scared.  He wants you to mess up.  To scream," his voice echoed in the back of my head as I began to count.  1, 2, 3, my hands were shaking at my sides.  3, 4, 5, I was unconsciously holding my breath as to not make a sound.  My chest swelled with air, I didn't dare breathe. 

 

              "Picture yourself somewhere far away from here," Dylan's voice soothed me silently.  "Remember when mom took us to the beach?  Think of that day."  My breath began to trickle from my lips, slowly and silently.  I was somewhere else.  The sand was beneath my toes, the balmy air against my skin. 

 

              My father's work boots halted in front of the closet door.  I could feel his hand hovering over the handle.  Dylan's grip over my mouth tightened unconsciously, and he tilted his head just the slightest bit forward.  "I love you."  He breathed it so softly that I wasn't sure if I had imagined it or not. 

 

              A glass bottle hit the floor and shattered, clear liquid seeping into the rotted floorboards and under the closet door where it soaked the tips of my socks.  I immediately recognized the stench, often on my father's breath. 

 

              Dear God, please. Please kill me.

 

              I heard my father's hand settle on the cold metal of the doorknob and I flinched.  To our dismay, the door was unlocked. 

Author's Note

This story was for a contest in which the only rule was that it began with "The door was unlocked..." It did not have to end with the phrase, that it just how I chose to end it. Reviews would be greatly appreciated, and if any flaws or typos are found, please let me know. As soon as I get some constructive feedback, I will enter it into the contest. Thanks!

Reviews

[Rana]

That was quite clever, ending the story with those words. You build the suspense up well, it was enjoyably dramatic. I wish the kids both have a nice plan. Um, now for some suggestions, in 'he glared at me out of anger' the 'out of anger' ain't needed or you could use 'he cast a glare of annoyance at me'. When I first read 'you can't hide in my own damn house' I thought it was Dylan who said it. So if you want you can make it clearer. 'Right now he wants to you be scared' there's a typo there. Overall, the scenes were sketched out well. Quite a nice work.

[Wasekera S Chiphazi Ban..]

good write,, Its very touching aswell and very interesting topic .. well done

[erinwrites]

This is amazing. I've never felt such strong emotions from reading a piece. I love this!

[Amanda Mcphail]

Loved it, you kept my attention the whole way trough. I would actually enjoy to read how it ended for them

[Mr_M]

This felt very real and everyone reading this will no doubt feel the same. The bond between the two is very strong and the suspence was done to perfection. I like the end, where it is left to our own imaginations to what happens next. I would imagine the karma police soon taking the man down somehow. Great story.

[Patrick Bush]

i really enjoyed it. i think your pacing was very well done and i liked the relationship between the two characters. i felt like they had a genuine bond that was sadly formed in fear and darkness. I liked also the absence of the father throughout until his sort of appearance at the end. I liked his character being shaded and kept in the dark. The only critique i could say is while i enjoyed the story, i did want something different to stand out (plot wise). While your grammar/word choice, etc is masterful, I wanted to see some variation in the story. Not saying its cliche, but i would like to see something new. I personally would like to see the roles of the children reversed, i think it would be a litter varied just to see the sister being more protective. But that's just a suggestion. Either way, the story is pretty damn good. :P

[Robben]

Nicely done, you capture the real fear of youth hiding love and keeping secrets. Well it seems there are some questions, like what are you hiding from, how your father will react once he finds you, is there any protection, is this the story of a blind romance. Something's come to mind like an unwanted pregnancy or one that is not approved of by parents. It calls to mind certain truths about hiding sex from our parents, is Dylan the one really being protected, he seems to be protecting you as the first person, but it maybe him who your father disapproves of. I was very intrigued, All anger has it's consequences are you repeating mistakes you have made before, or is the Father about to do something he will later regret. You captured the mood quite effectively, these questions are just to ask, if you are being punished what are you being punished for, and what can we expect will be the protagonists (the girl's) resolution of having to live with such terror.

[Aya]

Nicely written, I'm new here, so can't spot as much problems as others, but it really made me to hold my breath until the end...and then...WHAT HAPPENED NEXT???
Good work :), keep going !

[GreenEyedPoet]

Whoa that was pretty suspenseful!
You had me sucked in from beginning down to the very end.
Awesome write Brinleigh! :]

[silent poet]

THIS!! was extremely suspenseful and showed great storytelling!! wondering if it's a reality because of how deep it was and detail? wow, you're definitely gifted with words and the way you express them. YOU HAD ME AT THE FIRST SENTENCE RIGHT DOWN TO THE LAST , needing to know what was going to happen before it happened. great work!!

[Brinleigh Bailey]

Wow, thank you so much! Thankfully, this is not a reality, but I'm glad I was able to make it seem like one! The only truth to this story is I do have a brother named Dylan. Again, thank you so much!

[silent poet]

You're very welcome 😊