Author’s Note: The idea for this story originally came to me way back in 2018, but after reading some stories by Edgar Allen Poe and Nathaniel Hawthorne, I was inspired to rewrite it into a more substantive piece leaning much more heavily into traditionally gothic elements.
Read while listening for maximum immersion:
What possessed me to stare outside my bedroom window? The compulsion seemed to swallow me whole, just as the darkness did our home. It began when I dug a ragged hole into the board using Father’s hunting knife so I could look out in secret. I knew Father didn’t want us to see what was there, but I was emboldened by a sudden notion. To hide the darkness, he had boarded up every single window in the house, covering them with pink, delicate curtains— which, to me, looked more like a newborn’s flesh. Father gave his children Relief so we could go on without real light, using candles to make us feel as though it was still there, but it could never be real light.
Was I going mad or had my sanity been returning? Frantic thoughts scurried around my mind like starving, pathetic little mice. Staring down at the Relief I held, I knew that I couldn’t give in. It was wrong— unnatural, I knew. And yet, I found myself craving it. Relief was exceedingly bitter at first, always making me scrunch my face in disgust as I struggled to gulp it down. But then…the overwhelming bliss, the calming ease, the Relief, would set in. As hard as it was to resist, I knew that I mustn’t give in.
Didn’t I know better than to disobey? I wasn’t sure, but I knew something. I knew some indescribable, elusive something I couldn’t quite catch. And yet, I knew nothing at all.
It started with a simple notion: I want my Mama. After she left us, he put everything she touched into an old room and boarded it shut. So, I protested. I protested in a way that only scared little girls knew how. I disobeyed in secret. I denied his comfort when his back was turned. I rejected the Relief he gave and stared at the nothingness outside from the hole I had made.
All traces of Mama had been locked away, but I couldn’t let him erase her from my memory. She was all I had left. All I had left of light, of time– of somethingness. How long had it been? Every night bled into the next…and the next…and the next…until time was no longer time. We only pretended it was there because of that awful, dreadful Grandfather clock. Its sound made worms crawl on my skin. With each tick-tock Father told us that was time and we followed those terrible tick-tocks into our forever-nights, as if there was still a sun that could rise and fall.
My siblings were too young to remember light or time, but I clung to those memories like they were the only fire in a cold, dark cave. The image of Mama’s warm embrace and her hair lit up by the sun was becoming faint. If that disappeared too, then there really would be nothing left. That couldn’t be it. I needed to be with her again.
I want my Mama.
In my lucid madness, I was compelled to look for her outside as if she wanted me to. I slept very little, but when I did, I heard her voice. It was so quiet and far away, but I heard it. I somehow came to the conclusion she was out there, even though I was deathly afraid of what that could mean. The first time I looked into the nothingness, there was a creeping chill that slithered its way up my spine into my ever growing anxious mind. I felt tears that wouldn’t come. Where was she? How could she be out there when there was nothing? At first, I was careful and would only look when Father was sleeping, but the obsession consumed every moment I had alone. I knew I would eventually be caught, but despite my fear of Father’s punishment, I couldn’t stop.
Then, however many forever-nights later, a gentle knock came rapping at my door. I jumped up at once, yanking the flesh pink curtains shut. I must not have heard the chime for dinner, the darkness outside had its way of absorbing me so even those hideous sounds couldn’t reach me. Father came in and spoke in his usual soft whisper, which now sounded sinister to my overly keen ears.
“It’s time for supper, darling,” he said with a squint of his ever watchful, perceptive eyes. “‘Is something the matter?” Father asked, scanning right through me.
“No, Sir. I’ll be right down.” He looked displeased. That face meant punishment. I held my breath to anticipate the worst. His lanky figure loomed over me and his gaunt, pale features that once lulled me into a pleasant sleep seemed a nightmare. I prayed and prayed he did not suspect my disobedience. Whenever we misbehaved he would always summon us to that horrid room with its deafening Grandfather clock. I couldn’t bear to hear it up close, its sound would tear me apart. I desperately wished more than anything not to be punished and he could see it on my face.
An answer to my prayers came when he looked me over once more, deciding to grant me mercy. Not wanting to raise any more suspicion, I followed him down the stairs which creaked with every step in pointed screeches. Every little sound stabbed into my very being, and in my cowardice I missed the quiet of Relief, but it was too late. There was no turning back. The curtain had been lifted.
My siblings were sitting at the table staring vacantly into the candlelight waiting for us to arrive. They were good, obedient children. Unlike me. A stab of guilt dug into my heart. It was only a matter of time before my facade would crumble, I knew. My chair screeched against the floor when I pulled it out. It was a terribly piercing sound that hurt my ears and I did my best to hide it. But Father saw. He always saw. We held our hands together to say grace and when I held Father’s, it felt cold to the touch.
The shrill clinking and scraping of silverware ripped my mind in two, making it difficult to eat. I was struggling to appear calm, to seem numb. My stomach churned with each glance in my direction. I couldn’t stop the pounding of my heart or the headache that was letting on.
I want my Mama.
A loud clatter from dropping my spoon penetrated my aching head, making me recoil. I gasped, furious with myself, my carelessness, my idiocy. I looked down hoping he wouldn’t say anything, but he saw through me. Even my siblings’ vacant looks saw through me.
“Are you alright? You’ve seemed quite troubled lately.” Father cooed as he scrutinized me, leaning in ever so slightly.
I gulped, gathering all the courage and cleverness I could muster. “Yes, Father. May I be excused? I think I just need a little Relief…”
Father tapped his long fingers on the wooden table and let out a sigh, dismissing me with a wave of his bony, sinewy hand.
Gripping my nightgown, I rose from the dinner table and crept back up the groaning steps, braving each horrendous sound. I reached the door of my bedroom, trying to slow my breath, until a whisper brushed past my ear.
“Dearest…”
It was Mama’s voice. The tears that wouldn’t come threatened to burst. I looked around to find her. Where was she? I heard her again, realizing it was coming from her room. I rushed towards it, scrambling to find the hunting knife in my dress.
I nicked my thumb when folding it open, but I didn’t care. Thick blood crept down my wrist as I impaled and carved into the wood. Once finished, I hid the knife back into my dress pocket.
“Remember.”
Mama’s tender voice gave me strength. I peered through the little hole and watched as candles lit themselves to reveal a shadowy skull staring back at me.
“Remember, my love.”
The candles extinguished themselves when Father gripped onto my shoulders, clawing his hands into me. I tried to wrangle myself free from his hold, but I was much too weak. He found me, just as I feared. My disobedience was exposed and I would be punished.
I want my Mama.
Without a word, Father dragged me into his room as I struggled against his overpowering strength.
He threw me onto the squeaking bed, becoming even more daunting when I looked up at him from below. The Grandfather clock stood guard behind him with its unyielding, ticking sound forcing me into submission.
“Explain yourself. Now.” Father didn’t need to raise his voice for me to comply.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” my voice shook, my hands trembled. “I just—I only wanted. I’m sorry. Please, please forgive me.”
“You know you are not to look inside that room. There’s nothing to see.”
I wanted to protest. I wanted to fight back, but I couldn’t. The words would not come out. Why didn’t I listen? Why couldn’t I just be good? Had I obeyed, I wouldn’t need to be punished.
Glaring, he said, “I know what you’ve been doing. You’ve been looking outside. Haven’t you?”
“N-No. Of course not,” I spat out, not convincingly.
Anger rose in his voice. “Don’t you dare lie to me. Tell me why you’ve been looking outside.”
All of my feeble courage abandoned me. How could I have been so foolish? So utterly foolish? The deafening chime from the Grandfather clock made my head throb with excruciating pain, forcing the truth out of me.
“I’m sorry, I have. I’ve been looking outside because…I want to leave. I want to find Mama. I’m sorry.” I squeezed my head tight, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“There is nothing outside!” He erupted with a fury. “There is nothing in that room and there is nothing outside. Do you understand me?”
I replied in heavy, breathless wailing.
“Why can’t you be good? Your siblings do as they’re told and they’re happy. You ungrateful, wretched child.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Why did I not listen? Why wasn’t I good? Why? Why? Why?
Tick-tock, the clock resounded. Time and time and time again, it ticked and tocked relentlessly. Would it ever stop?
“I keep you safe inside our home. I give you light, I give you food, I give you comfort. What more do you need? How dare you take all that I have given you for granted? There is nothing and there is no one outside. Out there, everything I have given ends!”
I cradled myself, bawling into my knees.
Father went silent and looked down at me. He sat down beside me on the bed, asking in his gentle voice, “Have you been taking your Relief, sweetheart?”
Lifting my wet face, I shook my head.
“Ah, that explains it then. You’re sick,” he kissed my forehead and pulled me into a tight, suffocating hug. “My poor girl. You’ve always been so sensitive.”
I couldn’t help but cry in his arms as he caressed me.
“Don’t worry, my love. I will take away all of your pain, so long as you obey me from now on.”
Could he truly take my pain away? Maybe I could go back, but the relentless tick-tocks of the Grandfather clock reminded me it was impossible. Not. Real. Not. Real.
I want my Mama.
Then, I heard her voice. It was clear, as if her warm breath was somehow near.
“Remember…”
“Mama? I hear you. Mama!” desperate to be with her again, I pushed him away from me and ran out of the room. I had to find her.
Behind me, Father let out a ghastly screech, clawing to grab me again. I narrowly escaped him.
“Don’t leave me!” His terrible voice quivered violently. I rushed to the parlor, nearly slipping on the stairs as I went down. Waving the cobwebs away, I approached the front door which had been boarded shut. I stabbed into the wood, only making a pitiful mark when I heard his booming steps approaching.
“You can’t leave me! I lost her already, I can’t lose you too!” His miserable, distorted pleas froze me in place, too shaken with guilt and fear to move. For a moment, I wondered if I should stay.
“You must remember.”
In another instant, all the remorse I felt disappeared. Whipping my head toward Mama’s voice, I dropped the knife, certain it was coming from behind the wall. Where was she? Kneeling down onto my hands and knees, I felt for anything that might give way. I managed to push into a hidden opening as Father came barging in with a frenzy, the door nearly breaking on impact.
“I won’t let you leave me!” He snarled, completely mad, almost snatching my feet before I could slip into the little door. It snapped shut behind me and all I could hear was the dampened sound of his muffled, pained screams. “Don’t leave me!”
I turned away. Enveloped by darkness, the tunnel squeezed me tighter, tighter, and tighter still as I crawled further along. I made so many turns that only kept going, my breath becoming shallower by the second. With each turn, it squeezed me even tighter. Although I barely managed to breathe, I kept crawling on.
At last, I came to a stop and before the tunnel crushed me whole, I pushed as hard as I could until I burst out the other side. Rolling out of the house, I fell onto the floorless void.
I was finally outside.
“Mama?” I called out, my voice echoing and being quickly consumed.
I looked down at my feet.
Nothing.
I looked up and looked around again to make sure. Again, nothing.
Was Father right? Was there really nothing outside?
The weight of darkness closed in around me, sinking me further and further down. I tried to move forward, but my legs wouldn’t move. Terror overcame me.
“Mama? Mama!” I cried out, desperate to be loved, desperate to be heard.
The dark expanse ate my words with no remorse.
The tears came falling as I lamented leaving the safety of my home. Father was only trying to protect me. Why did I leave him? I turned around to see if I could go back…but the house was gone.
I dropped to my knees, weeping and crying for my Mama over, and over, and over again. It was just as Father said, there was nothing and there was no one outside. I was all alone in this dark. Would the tick-tocks have been better than this? After what felt like eternal forever-nights, I heard her again.
“My darling…”
Her voice filled the void, reverberating all around. I sniffled and rose again, finding my strength. Dragging my feet along, each step was a struggle against the thick nothingness.
I stopped. A defiant flicker from surrounding candles illuminated everything.
A magnificent, ornate mirror floated before me wearing a thin, white veil. It descended slowly, gracefully. I reached out towards it against the dense sea of darkness. Pulling at the veil, it seemed to weigh so much more than the light fabric appeared. With a singular, exhausting motion, I tore it away.
Mama.
She smiled back at me, her warmth bringing a new life back into my cold veins. Feeling real happiness for the first time in my never-ending nightmare, I walked towards the mirror in a trance and phased through the glass.
A blinding, white light seared my senses, blurring my vision. When it finally became clear again, I was staring up at my Mama who was rocking me in her arms. She was just as beautiful as I remembered her, lit up by the sun behind her. She was my light, my time— my somethingness.
“Shhhh. You’re safe now, my love. Go to sleep…” Her soft whispers took all the pain away.
Falling asleep in her arms, I accepted the embrace of true, everlasting peace.
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Oh wow. Edge of my seat the WHOLE TIME. 🔥 🚒 You can WRITE!!
Also your ability to be vague enough yet clear as to the implications of any unfamiliar terms or potential supernatural elements leaves a potent feeling of watching an established setting, which is compounded upon by the dialogue.