Playing With Fire | Teen Ink

Playing With Fire

November 20, 2015
By Chai-bunny SILVER, Newark, Delaware
Chai-bunny SILVER, Newark, Delaware
6 articles 0 photos 0 comments

“Can you keep a secret?”

A female voice whispers, startling me awake in a cold sweat. I take a deep breath, and when I manage to catch my breath, it’s then that I realize that I can’t see. I’m surrounded by a thick, cold fog, and can hardly see the ground beneath me. As I sit there my mind races with questions, I don’t know where I am, or how I got here. In fact I can’t seem to remember anything, not even my name. I rack my brain for any information as to what’s going on squeezing my eyes shut tight as if that’ll help, but my thoughts are interrupted by the cries of a child. As I open your eyes, and lift myself slowly off from the damp, hard ground I take look around but only see the outlines of trees due to the fog. I hesitantly open my mouth to ask if someone is there, to call out to anyone who may be near to help me, however I find myself unable to speak. My voice has been completely muted, and the only results I get from my attempt are large puffs of air. The cries continue, and I make an effort to follow the direction where I believe it’s coming from. I stumble my way through the thick fog, tripping over branches, and uneven ground. As I continue forth in my desperate search for answers, the cries grow louder, and louder. Finally, I come across a large tree, and see a little boy sitting under the tree crying into his knees. I slowly make my way over to the boy, as if approaching a small defenseless animal, taking small careful steps in fear of startling him. When I reach him I bend down next to him to ask if he’s okay, only to be reminded of my unfortunate inability to speak. So instead I tap him lightly on the shoulder, causing the loud wails of the boy to gradually dissipate. When he lifts his head slowly to look at me, I immediately notice how blood shot and red his eyes are, cheeks rosy and soaked from his salty tears. The boy looks to be about seven and I notice with deep pity of the fearful look etched into his face. I struggle to ask the boy what was wrong, making gestures with my hands, probably looking as if I’m playing my own little game of charades. Luckily it was enough for him to understand as he slowly answers me with a weak and tired voice,
“I didn’t know, I promise I didn’t do it on purpose” he cries.
I furrow my eyebrows to show him that I don’t understand, and I’m about to ask him what he did when suddenly I hear it again.
“Can you keep a secret?”
It’s the voice from before, but this time I realize that it is not the voice of a women. They’re the voice of little children, but all their voices sound mutilated. Their voices seem to come from all around me, and I try to scan the area to pinpoint where exactly the voices are coming from, yet there’s no one around. “Ready or not here I come,” a child announces.
I slowly look to the boy to question if he hears the voices as well, only to be met with the boy’s wide eyes, and overflowing tears. He stares at me, and I stare right back, studying his expression, and realize that it’s not me he’s looking at. I give him a questioning look when suddenly I hear heavy, ragged breathing. It’s so close I swear it’s coming from right behind me. Chills spread throughout my whole body as I feel someone’s warm breath on the back of my neck.
“Oh my God,” I mouth to no one in particular.
I take slow, deep breaths, and close my eyes, making sure to keep as still as possible, as if this tactic will camouflage me. I try to convince myself that the person will disappear when I open my eyes, that it’s just paranoia. That I’m confused, and I’m allowing my imagination to run wild. Yet my method proved to be ineffective when I feel someone’s hand running through your hair, their cold fingertips lightly brushing the back of my neck.
“Tag,” the voice whispers “You’re it.”
Now it’s me who’s breathing heavily, and I open my eyes to look to the boy, but he’s no longer there. In a quick panic I turn around in fear of spotting the person who I believed was behind me, but no one is there. You look around desperately, then suddenly a child’s laughter erupts from behind me. I turn around hoping to see the boy or maybe a child, but only see a doll. I gently pick it up and wonder if the laughter could have come from the doll. It’s then that I begin to question my insanity, it’s a doll for crying out loud. I look at the doll and study its features, and the longer I observe the doll the more it looks familiar to me. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks when I realize how strikingly similar it looks to the boy, and as I stare into its eyes the more life-like it seems to become. Then I hear laughter again, but this time, I hear feet hitting cement. I follow the echoed little taps, when I come to a gate with the word Holloway at the top. I get a sudden rush of déjà vu, I’m not sure why, but the word sounds oddly familiar to me. I look past the gates into the closed off area, and see a little girl standing a couple of feet away. She has her back turned to me, and is humming a little tune to herself.
“Tell me a story, of neon butterflies that only come, alive at night,” she sings softly while twirling around, “Give me a reason, a reason to believe, the things that I can see.”
She stops twirling, and begins skipping down the pavement, going deeper into the area. I push open the gate and head down the path after her, stopping every so often to look behind me to make sure I can still see the gate. When I continue down the path I see a large building in the distance, and as I get closer I realize that it’s a house. As I walk toward the house I observe its condition, its old Victorian styled, and the paint of the house has faded and chipped off. It’s not until I hear a small sneeze that I realize that the little girl from before is standing on the porch facing the door. She raises her small hands, and knocks on the door, but no one answers
“Get away from there,” I yell startling her, and myself.
She whips around to look at me, with wide frightened eyes.
“Why?” she asks.
“It’s not safe.”
To be honest I’m not sure why, or what possessed me to tell her something like that, however I felt a strong feeling in my gut that it was true. That this house was in fact not safe.
“What’s your name?” I ask her.
“Lily” she answers with a small voice.
Lily? I think to myself. I know I’ve heard that name before, but I can’t remember where.
My thoughts were interrupted when the door of the house creaks open, and I see a figure standing behind her. It’s too dark so I can’t see the person’s face, however their eyes light up a vibrant blue, and is staring right at me. I look at them, then to the girl, but she just looks at me like she hasn’t notice them at all. The person begins walking backwards deeper into the house all while keeping their eyes on me. When they finally stops walking, multiple hands reach out from the darkness of the house. The hands were completely black, like shadows, gripping the girl, but she doesn’t even notice, it’s like she can’t feel them. In a panic I start screaming, and try to run toward her, but I find that I can’t move. I look to my legs to find that the same hands that were grasping the girl were holding me down. I can’t get to her. I try my best to rip my legs from their grasp, but no matter how much I pull I get no one where. My struggle was forgotten when I hear screaming. I look back at the girl to see her being pulled into the house, and the door slamming shut.
“Lily?” I shout, but the only response I receive back is the eerie creaks of the old house.
Suddenly the house bursts into flames, and I use my hands to shield my face from the immense heat. When I remove my hands, and look up at the house I get a glimpse of Lily in the left, window of the second story. She is banging against the window, and I think she’s screaming, but the roar of the flames drown her out. Then all the windows of the house shatter, and smoke erupts from the windows. Then I look back to where Lily once stood, but she is no longer there. By now the shadowed hands had disappeared, and I’m free of their grasp. However I fall to my knees, too shocked to move. Too shocked to cry. Too shocked to speak, yet at this point what do I say? As I sit there in a daze I hear movement from behind me, and feel a small hand on my shoulder. When I turn around I’m shocked to find that it was the little boy from before, and he’s holding the doll that I must’ve dropped when the shadows had grabbed me. As he looks to me with an emotionless face I begin to wonder what’s really going on. I open my mouth to question this twisted nightmare, but I’m again unable to speak. I place my hand on my neck, and question why I can’t speak, when I was just in screaming minutes ago. Then I feel his hands on my face, but when I look up at him, his eyes are pitch black. Startled I widen my eyes, and attempt to pull away but my face doesn’t budge, and he won’t let go. Instead he pulls my face closer to his.
“Soon,” he whispers.
Then he pulls away and looks into my eyes, suddenly I felt immense pain in my head. The pain is unbearable, and my body begins to grow numb as I close my eyes tightly trying to fight the pain. As the pain continues I feel hands on my shoulders shaking me, and hear voices. Slowly the pain begins to fade, and the voices are clearer now.
“Clara!” the voice shouts “Clara, sweetie wake up!”
I open my eyes to see my father, staring back at me with wide brown eyes.
“Dad?” I whisper, my weak voice cracking.
“Sweetheart its ok, everything is OK now” he assures me, calming me down.
I look around the room I’m in. A hospital, I’m in a hospital. I look back to my dad as he softly pushes me hair out of my face.
“What happened?” I ask.
“You were playing hide-and-seek tag with Lily and Tommy when their house caught on fire.”
Lily. Suddenly a rush of images flood my mind, I remember now. Lily is my best friend, and Tommy is her little brother. I can’t remember what happened exactly, just bots and pieces here and there. All I remember is standing against the large oak tree by the entrance of their yard, then hearing Lily’s screams. I remember seeing their house on fire, and Lily in the window of her bedroom. I ran up the porch, and grabbed the knob of the door when it was blown off the hinges, throwing me back. I remember feeling intense pain, before everything went black.
“You hit your head” my dad states.
“Lily? What happened to Lily” I ask, feeling a sudden surge of hope, only for it to be smashed by my dad’s pitiful expression.
“Lily unfortunately perished in the fire,” he answers sadness evident in his voice “but, luckily Tommy had been no where near the fire”
I nod my head to show I understood.
“Sir?” a women in a nurse’s uniform speaks up “You need to sign your daughter out.”
“OK, no problem,” he responds standing up “Clara, sweetheart I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Okay” I whisper
He smiles at me, kisses me on the forehead, and makes his way to the door.
“Clara,” the nurse speaks again, “You have a visitor.”
Suddenly a little boy comes running into the room, and I realize that it’s the boy from my dream. It’s Tommy. He looks to me with a toothy grin, and raises his hands making all sorts of gestures.
“He says that we’ll be releasing you today”, Nurse Joy explains.
Deaf. I had completely forgotten, Tommy was born deaf.
“Nurse Joy,” a voice calls from outside the door.
Nurse Joy looks out the door, mouths ok then looks back to us.
“I’ll be right back I have to go help them with another patient, if you guys need me press that blue button by the bed,” she informs us pointing at a small button on the side of my bed, “ok?”
“OK,” Tommy and I state in unison.
She smiles at us then leaves the room.
Tommy looks at me, and then makes a gesture with his hands, however I don’t understand. Then he stops and thinks a moment before readjusting himself on my bed, and trying a new method. First, he places his hands on his ear, then his eyes, then finally on hid mouth. When I furrow my eyebrows he repeats these actions in the same order a couple of more times until I finally realize what he’s trying to say.
“Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil,” I state.
He smiles, and points to my while nodding his head. Then he holds up a finger, and hops off the bed, heading to the door. He then flips the switch off, and while I wait patiently for something to happen I hear a strange sound. Then the room is illuminated by a small flame, revealing a dozen black figures surrounding the room, staring at me. Fear spreads throughout my whole body, as I look around the room, then back to Tommy who’s looking at me darkly.
“Can you keep a secret,” he whispers.



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