July 15, 2020
Once again, his father, mother, and sister were gone. The house belonged to Isaac for the afternoon. This time, he wouldn't get to spend it smoking cigarettes and playing his guitar. His mother made sure to take her cigarettes with her. Without them, there was no way he would be able to play his guitar. He wouldn't be able to concentrate, as all he could think about was getting his next cigarette. All of his friends were miles away, his mom's cigarettes were gone, and he couldn't drive, not that there was a car to do so.
Isaac paced around his room, feeling tense. What could he do to relieve his addiction? Punch a wall? A window? Shaber? He chuckled to himself. Of course he wouldn't punch his cat, even if it was a little bastard at times.
"Isaac!" A voice from down stairs shouted.
The house went silent and Isaac stared at his closed door.
What the hell?
It sounded like his mother, only wrong. She couldn't have been home already. She had just left for work with Lillian a few hours ago. Could it be Aunt Mabel? Isaac reflected to himself, feeling his body shake a little.
No, he thought. She probably wouldn't be back for a while, with the whole drowning incident and all.
"Mom?" Isaac yelled, his voice cracking.
"Isaac!" The voice said once more.
He reached his hand out to the door handle. It felt cold to the touch as he twisted it and gently glided it open.
"Mom?" He said once more. There was no reply, only the sound of wind rustling through an open door. As he slowly inched forward, he felt the air become colder and colder. It was near ninety degrees outside, how did the house get so cold? He looked down the stairs, seeing the front door swaying back and forth.
As he put his right foot on the first step, he heard a giggle that must have been from the living room.
"Mom?" Isaac said quieter. His body was shaking more intensely. He wasn't quite sure if it was from the fear that was building up in him or the withdrawals he was having from being a few hours off of nicotine.
Trying to keep as quiet as possible, he lightly stepped down the stairs. To his left was the living room - the room almost feeling like it was freezing. Nobody was to be seen.
"Isaac!" The voice said behind him.
He jumped and turned around to see his mother standing behind him, staring at him with a wide smile.
"Jesus Christ, mom. What the hell?" Isaac said, his heart beating a million miles a minute.
"Oh, did I scare you, honey?" She laughed, still smiling with her teeth.
Isaac held his fist to his heart. If there was a perfect moment to shit his pants, that would have been it. That was the first time his mother had ever scared him and, to say the least, he was not expecting it.
"Well duh," Isaac said. "Why were you sneaking around? And why is it so frigging cold in here?" He looked up to his mother and inspected her more closely. Something was off about her. Her left eye was slightly twitching, her teeth were an almost flawless white, and her skin was clear of complexion. She kept staring at him, smiling wider than he had ever seen her smile. Unless it was for photos.
Isaac wrapped his arms around his chest and looked away. His mother was making him feel uncomfortable.
"I didn't mean to scare you, Isaac. I just wanted to say hi," She looked down to her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Oh, and I got you something."
Isaac hesitantly grabbed the cigarettes from her. He opened it and saw the full twenty. Now he knew for certain that something was wrong. He didn't know what was wrong with his mother but her buying him cigarettes was not like her.
"Is everything okay, mom?"
Her left eye twitched a little more. "Of course, honey? Why?"
He looked at the walls, still trying to avoid her gaze. "You just seem a little bit weird, is all."
His mother laughed. "I'm fine, I have never been better."
Isaac chuckled and looked back down to the cigarettes. "Thanks," Was all he could say.
"You're welcome, honey," His mom said. "Now I've got to get back to it. I'll see you later."
She walked out the front door and gently pulled it shut, all while watching Isaac. The cold air began to dissipate and Isaac let out a deep breath.
What the hell was that all about?
He looked out the window to the driveway. His mother's car was nowhere to be seen and, for that matter, neither was his mother. There was no way she could have drove away so quickly, not without sprint to an already moving car and speeding out of the driveway. Even then, a large cloud of dust would have formed. And Isaac didn't even hear the sound of an engine.
Whatever the case, the cigarettes in his hand practically beckoned to him. His mother leaving brought the nicotine withdrawals right back to the forefront and all he could think about was sucking in on it. Isaac dashed up the stairs, feeling adrenaline course through his body.
Pulling his chair to the window, he grabbed a lighter, lifted the window up, and firmly placed a cigarette between his lips. He struck his lighter and watched as the flame burned the white paper. One day he would end his addiction. But for now, Isaac felt that there was no rush to stop. Of course, he could stop if he wanted to. But that was the thing, Isaac didn't want to.
Isaac sucked in on the cigarette and felt his body release. All his senses calmed, feeling even better than they had before. Whatever his mother bought him must have been very high quality. He breathed in again and looked down at the package to see what brand it was. Only, there was no brand. It was just a white box with nothing printed on it. He would have to ask his mom what brand it was when she returned.
Outside of the house, a rope was swinging from a branch. It was a rope that Isaac had never seen before. He ignored it and went for his guitar instead. He grabbed it by his neck when he felt his throat clog.
What... What the fuck?
He couldn't breathe. Isaac grasped his neck, clawing at it, trying to breathe. The chair tumbled, throwing him onto the floor, where he tried to gasp for air.
"Hee hee hee. Look at him, he's choking," A voice inside his room said.
"Give him some time my dear. Boys his age always go through this transition," Another voice said.
Laughing filled the room but he couldn't see them. Isaac couldn't see anything as he felt his body shutting down.
"Daddy, I think he might be dead," A little girl's voice said.
"Oh, he's just faking it. He just wants the attention," A man's voice said.
"Oh? How sad."
Isaac felt a gap the size of a pinhole form in his throat and he took a desperate breath. He turned and rose to his knees and felt the remnants in his throat violently push up. He coughed and vomited up blood and pieces of the eggs he had had this morning.
Whatever need he had for nicotine was now gone. Instead, he just wanted air. Plain, clean air. He sucked it in, feeling that it could just as easily be taken away from him again. His breathing was raspy and he could feel sweat running down his back. Looking up, he saw his door was open and a tall figure stood in the hall. It had to be standing close to seven feet tall.
"Who are you?" Isaac screamed.
The figure didn't move but Isaac couldn't hear little children's laughter filling the hall. He closed his eyes and felt a cold tear stick to his eyelashes. The air had once again turned frosty and the faint sound of whispers filled Isaac's thoughts.
"It's almost time, Isaac," A voice said.
"Time for what?" Isaac asked.
"Time for the fun to begin," The voice laughed.
The whole room exploded with laughter and giggling and Isaac tucked his face down into his lap and held his hands over his ears.
"Please stop," He muttered.
The laughing felt like it was right next to him. Like a hundred persons were sitting next to him and laughing at his face. It was a feeling that Isaac had felt before, only not this sinister.
"Please stop," He cried.
A gust of wind blew past his ears and he jolted up. Laying next to him, in his bed, was his guitar. It must have all be a dream. He rubbed his eyes and looked towards his chair sitting by the window. Despite his terrible nightmare, he felt good for whatever reason. He let out a sigh of relief and smiled.
"Well that was fucking crazy," He said to himself. Isaac picked up his guitar and, once again, began singing as he glided his finger with the strings. As he had become accustomed to with living in their new home, he stared out to the forest. Only, he stopped singing. Swinging on the tree he had seen in his dream was the same rope. Feeling panicked, he looked over to his side and saw the cigarette pack next to him. Inside, there were nineteen cigarettes.
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