Painless

• Cooper Whitaker, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2021

Rainfall battered the thin glass pane that was wedged into a gap in the old weatherboard walls, it felt like it would be years until the rain ceased. I heard the pounding of my father’s footsteps, coming up the pull-down ladder to the attic. He was coming. This was my chance. I stood solemnly behind the door, not daring to let out a peep.
The rotted oak door creaked open on its rusty hinges. His feet trod lightly on the groaning floorboards as if he was trying not to alert me of his presence. Sweat dripped down my forehead as I waited anxiously for him to step out of the doorway.
The taste of salty water lingered on my tongue. I was a puddle of sweat. His footsteps were placed carefully on the none creaking floorboards. His eye's scanned the small space cautiously looking for any anomalies. Now I needed to make my move. I slipped out from behind the door and treaded gingerly behind his back and sped out the door slamming it unwary as I ran down the ancient victorian style stairs.
I could see the storm that was raging outside, I could feel the fresh wind on my back it was all there... and then it wasn't. My feet lost their grip on the rotting floorboards, and then my whole body was pulled down, and I went black. I was back pretty fast but my vision was blurry. I could see the door slowly shut on my freedom.
My father bent down and dragged me up the stairs, making sure I felt every ounce of pain from my collisions with the stairs. He threw me back into the darkness of the tiny attic.
It was hopeless to try again. I had been trying for the past 7 years, ever since my mother died when I was 8. I still don't quite know how she died, and it's not like my father will tell me. He has been depressed and isolated from the outside world.
I sat up on my rag coated mattress and stared out into the black abyss of night. It was as if there was something or even someone out there staring back.
Sooner or later I dozed off.