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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1564860-The-Man-in-the-Loft
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Thriller/Suspense · #1564860
This is my first draft of a short story.
Michele awoke suddenly her breathing heavy she lay in bed listening, sure she had heard the front door open.  The house was silent now, disturbed only by the sound of her labored breath.  Rolling over Michele tried to go back to sleep, just a bit of paranoia which was not surprising, she had had trouble sleeping the past couple of nights after the discovery at work.  Michele pushed that thought away, not wanting to think about it, she didn't understand the figures anyway, wished that she had never found them.



A door clicked shut breaking the silence, pulling her away from the unwanted thoughts.  That was the spare room door, had she left a window open, Michele didn't think so.  Laying huddled in the bed, holding her breath she waited for another noise.  It felt like an eternity passed before she could breath normally and calm down, no other sounds.  She reprimanded herself for being so stupid, there was no-one in the house, cursing Michele clambered out of bed.  It was no good, she would never get to sleep now until she checked it out. 



Quietly she crept downstairs, fear making her heart pound loudly.  Stupid, stupid, stupid she told herself.  The chain was still across the front door, Michele let out the breath she had been holding.  Heading back up stairs she paused outside the spare room, the door was a jar.  Pushing it wide open Michele reached round the door frame and turned the light on.  The sudden brightness make black dots dance in front of her eyes.  Quickly she checked the window, which was closed, then headed back to bed.  She was just creeped out and hearing things, probably lack of sleep..



The phone woke Michele up, sun light streamed through the curtains across the bed.  Michele fumbled for the ringing phone wanting to shut the thing up.



"Hello"



"Hey baby, how are you?"



"Hi Mum, I'm fine."



"You don't sound fine, should I come over now?"



"No, honestly I'm fine.  You just woke me up is all, how was Spain?"



Quickly Michele changed the subject and listened to her Mum prattle on about her new boyfriend, Steve.



"So, lets meet for lunch."



"Sure, Mum.  What time is it?"



"Eleven, I'll pick you up in an hour."



"OK, see you then."



"Bye"



Michele hung up and slumped back on the pillows, wow nearly half the day gone.  When was the last time she had slept that late?  Michele got up and headed for the shower, knowing her Mum would arrive early to 'check-up' on her.



"So what would you like?"



Michele glanced from the menu to her Mum and gritted her teeth, knowing the lecture that was about to come.  Screw it she thought, she didn't want rabbit food, her stomach grumbled in agreement.



"I'll have chips."



Quickly Michele looked back at the menu and relief flooded through her as she saw the waitress heading to their table.



"You can't live off chips, Michele."



Michele smiled brightly at the waitress, ignoring her Mum, the woman had perfect timing.



"Can I take your order."



Michele looked out the window as her Mum placed their order, putting extra emphasis on the chips.  Within seconds the waitress had bustled off and Michele could feel her Mum watching her.



"You look tired, baby."



"It's nothing, Mum.  I've just had a couple of crappy nights sleep, but it's Saturday and a long weekend so plenty of time to catch up."



Michele forced a smile for her Mum, hoping to reassure her.



"Are you sure that's all it is?"



Mum looked at her meaningfully, Michele repressed a shudder.  That look was why she hated spending time with anyone from before, the ones that knew.



"Mum, it's been three months, I'm fine.  Doing really good in fact.  Please, can we just leave it?"



The waitress appeared with their order, sticking a pen behind her ear she served them quickly before hurrying off again.  The chips smelled heavenly and Michele tucked right in.  Her Mum eyed her wearily, absently twirling a strand of hair round her finger before starting on her chicken salad.



"OK then, tell me about your new job.  How's it going?"



Michele switched to auto pilot and proceeded to tell her how great it was, how friendly everyone was, throwing in a little anecdote about the new girl Annette who was doing telephone sales.  Michele was careful not to think about her discovery, just of late it seemed everyone could read her face like a book, something that was getting more and more irritating by the day.



Finally lunch was over, her Mum apologized she had to rush off to a tennis match.  Reassurance was required before she would leave, Michele assured her she would be fine, getting a bus on her own was no problem.



The walk from the bus stop was short, only five minutes.  Michele used the time to clear her head, walking briskly she tried to think of something she could do to get Mum off her back and not to worry so much about her all the time.  Reaching the front door she put the key in the lock and turned pushing the door at the same time.  With a loud crack the door flew back and caught her in the nose.  Slightly dazed Michele pushed the door more carefully this time, after it got an inch the loud crack again.  The door was caught on the chain.  Bemused Michele just stood there eyeing the door, impossible she thought.  There was no way the chain could be on, she'd left through the front door earlier locking it behind her.



Her heart pounded as she wondered how she was going to get in.  Then fear set in as she realized someone could be in her home, somebody had to have been inside to put the chain on.  The back door Michele, she could get in through there.  Maybe she shouldn't go in alone, cautiously she made her away around the side of the house, across the drive and through the back gate.  Peering through the patio doors the downstairs looked empty.  There was no way she was ringing Mum, she was already worried about her and looking at her funny.



Taking a few deep breaths she put the key in the back door, it clicked loudly and Michele held her breath as she stepped into the kitchen.  Silence greeted her and she shivered, the house didn't feel empty.  An awful feeling of being watched settled on her.  Michele went through every room, searching for anything out of place, there didn't seem to be an intruder lurking anywhere.  She came to a stop at the front door and stared at the chain clearly across it.  Abruptly Michele turned away, leaving the chain on she headed back through the living room to the kitchen.  Brandy, that's what she needed, something to calm the nerves.



Sitting on the settee sipping the brandy and coke, Michele replayed when she left the house that afternoon over and over in her mind.  She was sure she had left through the front door, she wasn't crazy, someone must have put the chain on.  At some point she fell asleep, waking slumped over the arm of the settee, brandy glass still clutched in her hand.  Good job it was empty.  The sky was dark and the street lights illuminated the living room.  Groaning Michele headed to the kitchen, dumping the glass in the sink she popped open the cupboard and grabbed a packet of super noodles.  The kettle whistled and she dumped the noodles in a bowl with the hot water and put them in the microwave.  Back to the cupboard Michele reached for an apple and got only air.  Rummaging through the cupboard she found food was missing, apples, bananas and crisps, all gone.  Michele searched all the cupboards with no joy, she hadn't put them away anywhere else.  The microwave pinged, Michele ignored it, her eyes resting on the fridge.  Opening the fridge door she did a quick stock check, potatoes, coleslaw, diet coke and butter all missing.  Everything she had bought shopping yesterday all gone. 



Michele remembered going shopping, she remembered driving to and from the supermarket, she had nearly run over that old lady on the zebra crossing, pushing the little trolley.  Her mind went numb, maybe she was imagining things, maybe she just dreamed she went shopping or something.  Not crazy, Michele thought, she just needed to pay more attention to what she was doing instead of floating round like some ghost.  It was insane to think someone broke into her house took only the shopping she bought yesterday and popped the chain on the door on their way out, she almost laughed to herself.  Stomach growling more fiercely she grabbed the noodles and dumped them on a plate.  Food, that would take her mind off everything, she'd just have these and go to bed.  Tomorrow was a new day.



Michele woke to the sound of the spare room door, her bedroom still dark she grabbed her mobile and checked the time, two am.  Sitting up she leaned against the head board, heart beating wildly she listened for another noise.  There it was, a shuffling sound, like someone dragging something across a wooden floor, another noise like a drawer slamming.  It couldn't be the neighbors, she lived in a detached house and never heard anything from them.  Michele jumped up, the noises seemed to be coming from above her, creeping slowly out the bedroom Michele knew she needed to get a handle on this, terror coursed through her and she pushed it aside, this was definitely not the most scary situation she had been in.  The noises had stopped and Michele headed into the spare room, her gaze came to rest on the loft hatch in the ceiling.  Impossible, thats just crazy, Michele chastised herself and headed back to bed, it has to be coming from one of the neighbours.  Curling up in bed Michele huddled under the covers, plagued by the old feelings of helplessness.  Her nerves fraught she jumped at every little groan and creak of the old house.  Eventually she drifted off to sleep.



Michele stood under the shower letting the hot water pound over her shoulders and back, hoping to wash away some of the tension from the previous night.  The bags under her eyes were like black sacks and she was even considering staying at her Mums that night.  Michele knew things were bad if she was even thinking about seeking refuge at her Mums.



Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt she found herself in the spare room again.  She had never heard any other noises last night but knew if she wanted a decent nights sleep she would have to go up in the loft and check it out.  Running down the stairs she grabbed a chair from the kitchen and headed back to the spare room.  Slightly out of breath she placed the chair in the middle of the room directly under the loft hatch.  Hesitantly Michele climbed on the chair and reached for the cord and pulled the hatch open, darkness greeted her, peering into it she couldn't see a thing.  Another trip downstairs to the kitchen and she came back armed with a torch.  Her heart pounded with anticipation now, sure she was about to prove how silly she was, silly not crazy.  The moment of truth, she thought.



Torch clamped between her teeth she climbed back on the chair and reached up to grab the edge of the hatch.  Grunting she managed to pull herself up and onto the loft floor, feet dangling over the edge.  Glancing around she could just make out dark shapes in the gloom, there was no noise except for her own heavy breathing.  Switching the torch on she swung it slowly round the loft.  Her heart nearly exploded out of her chest, the beam found a single air bed with a crumpled up red sleeping bag on top, next to it was a cool box, the lid half pushed off.  Michele raised herself up on shaky legs, forgetting to breath she gasped as her lungs started to burn.  Bending slightly to avoid hitting her head on the rafters she crept towards the cool box.  She pushed the lid off and it cluttered to the floor.  Apples, bananas, potatoes, everything from her missing shopping was in there.  Something crumpled underfoot and she bent and picked it up, her supermarket receipt for the shopping.  The receipt fluttered from her hand and Michele slowly backed away before turning and almost jumping out the loft hatch.



Michele collapsed on the single bed, doubled over in pain, she couldn't breath.  She concentrated on getting air to her lungs, in through the nose and out through the mouth, just the way she'd been taught.  She got up from the bed and side stepped the chair, running down the stairs she grabbed her car keys and fled from the house without looking back.  It wasn't safe here, she knew that now, would she ever be safe she wondered.  For the first time in months she found herself remembering that night, the one she had tried so hard to put behind her.  All she could see now was the blood, that was the only thing she ever remembered..  Somehow he'd found her and come back, he wasn't dead, they'd lied to her.  Switching over to auto pilot she drove to her Mums.



Her fist pounded on the front door, over and over again until finally Michele hit nothing but air.  She stared into her Mums eyes and collapsed on the doorstep.



They were on the way back to her house, her mums driving as crazy as ever.  Michele stared out the window watching the trees fly past.  Her mums hands gripped the wheel tightly, her knuckles white from tension.  She hadn't said anything since they had left the house.  Michele knew her Mum thought she had cracked and had given up trying to reassure her she was OK.  Her Mum kept telling her that it was OK, that this was to be expected.  Michele knew she had been babbling like a fool, the terror and fear of the past couple of days spilling out as she tried to relay what had happened.  Her Mums disbelieving eyes as she said, show me. 



Suddenly they were there, the house loomed in front of them.  Her Mum pulled her from the car and through the front door and Michele realized she had forgot to lock it.  Heading up the stairs Michele felt relief, now her Mum would see.  She was worried how her Mum would react, she hadn't known how to handle the last few months and she was worried about how she would react to this.  She sat on the bed in the spare room and watched her Mum kick off her heels and climb on to the chair, torch in one hand she pulled down the hatch and flicked it on.  Her chest tight Michele felt the panic attack building, she ducked her head down on to her knees and tried to calm down.  She heard her Mum struggle into the loft, a loud bang as the torch hit the floor, then she waited listening to her Mums footsteps above her.  After what seemed like hours her Mum dropped back down to the chair and came to stand in front of her.  Michele searched her face, although pinched with worry, new lines appearing on her forehead, she didn't see the fear she had expected.



"There's nothing up there, Michelle."



Michele stared at her dumbfounded.  Anger soared through her, that was not possible.  Then she was yelling.



"What do you mean?  It was there, an airbed, cooler, it was there!"



Her Mum reached out and gripped Michele's shoulder, waiting patiently for her to calm down.  She spoke softly to her once the yelling had stopped and the sobs started.



"Just some old boxes, that's it.  Come on, I'll show you."



Michele let her Mum help her up into the loft, staring around mutely she took in the empty space where the airbed and cool box had been.  There was nothing, no sign that they had ever been there.  Michele was vaguely aware of her mind shutting down, like it had before when she'd seen all the blood and knew what she'd done, taken another humans life, even a despicable one, she had not been able to accept it.  Then suddenly she had accepted it, she had come to terms with it.  But the realization that she had imagined everything was enough to knock the life out of her.  She let her Mum lead her away from the loft, from her house and home.



Sitting on the settee her Mum draped a blanket round her shoulders, it was only then Michele found she was shivering.  Michele looked around the living room, cream walls and white leather settees, it was like a show home.  Grabbing the ringing phone her Mum left the living room, pulling the door closed behind her.  Michele closed her eyes and let oblivion take her.



Michele was vaguely aware of the doctor speaking to her, giving her pills to take, she swallowed them obediently, sedatives she thought absently.  She lay back on the settee and closed her eyes, tuning everything out she descended into darkness again.



They were on the way back to the house now, Michele in the back of Dr Phillips car with her Mum.  Her Mum chattered away with Dr Phillips, Michele didn't pay any attention to them, she stared out the window not seeing anything.  She was going away for a break, they had said, like before.  There was nothing to worry about they told her, everything was fine, this was a normal reaction after such a traumatic event.  They were off to pack an overnight bag, she wasn't to worry about the rest, her Mum would pack that for her.



Michele walked slowly into the house, once it had been her home now it felt like a strangers.  She chucked the first things that came to hand in a bag headed downstairs quickly.  As she walked into the living her Mum and Dr Phillip fell silent, talking about her, she'd get used to that again.  Following them to the front door, Michele came out of her trance and gripped the edges of the front door.  This wasn't right, she'd been doing so well, even now it all felt so real, everything that happened was real.  She was sure of it.  Dr Phillip nodded to her Mum, who then grabbed her wrist and pulled Michele out the front door.  Dr Phillip stood patiently by the car, back door open and ready for her.  Michele tried to pull away, her Mums grip was like a vice and her heels dragged on the floor as she was pulled to the car.



"No, no, no, no" Michele mumbled over and over.



She glanced back at the house, her attention drawn to the trees that surrounded the garage, a man stood under them, almost hidden from view.  He was talking into a phone, and Michele lip read the last two words he said.  He hung up and looked directly at her, his mouth a tight line he inclined his head to her and turned back in to the tress, disappearing.  Those two words echoed through Michele's head as they bundled her into the car, round and round they went until she could comprehend what they meant.  It wasn't him back from the dead, she had been played, the spreadsheet she'd find at work popped into her head.  She almost laughed, she hadn't really understood what those figures had meant.  "Job done" he'd said.
© Copyright 2009 CuriousBones (epiphany09 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1564860-The-Man-in-the-Loft