The kind of house that Clara lived in was ordinary. It had all its windows closed and every exit shut so that nothing could climb their way in to find her. Hardly any curtains nor blinds were left open, and now almost nothing could watch her from the dark outdoors. Tonight, Clara was the only one inside of her home.
Clara took in her last spoonful from the now empty plate. It once contained the leftovers that her parents spared her before they left that night, and now her final task of the day was to catch up on her quadratic equations. Mathematics was never her strongest subject at school – she preferred ones that were more flexible and allowed for a greater imagination. She wasn’t excited to return to her room. But, why waste any time? Except to wash her dishes, there was no other use for her staying at the table any longer. She made her way to the sink.
Nothing interesting was there to see when Clara washed her dishes. There was, of course, the window in front of her, but it was already so late in the night that it reflected the world behind her like a mirror. She could see the pan still on the stove, untouched since that morning’s breakfast. She took note of the mouse trap in the corner, which she would soon walk carefully at a distance from. Then, there was the open pantry that she would remember to close on her way back. Finally, she returned her eyes to her washing and noticed that the plate she rinsed was the only item left.
But suddenly, Clara wasn’t so sure how alone she was inside her home. She assessed the reflection, and nothing had changed behind her back.
A glance at the clock; it read 9 PM. Clara knew her parents wouldn’t be home until they assumed that she was sound asleep, and it was only appropriate that she switched off all the lights on the way to her bedroom. Now at the door frame, Clara took a glance at the dining room for the last time that day.
She flipped the switch and the room disappeared. Into the dark, the table vanished – chairs and all. And, the only sound: the kitchen sink.
Drip… drip… drip…
Clara slipped through the door frame in a hurry.
In her journey back, the living room was where Clara spent the least amount of time. It was also the biggest of all the rooms — its wooden floor covering one side of the house to the other. It most invited the house’s dwellers, and often, many at once. Hardly anyone saw the space so empty; Clara almost winced at the sight. To the next door, she glanced at the living room for the last time that day.
She flipped the switch and the room disappeared. Into the abyss, the couches vanished. All the shelves, north and south.
She felt the silence grow cold, and then she tip-toed away.
Clara arrived at the first end of the corridor. Beside her was the bathroom, and she figured that, since she planned not to eat more than her dinner that night, it was best that she brushed her teeth.
Now inside the bathroom, Clara took a peek at the mirror. Her psyche insisted, Something could change. Something could appear. The Clara trapped inside that mirror may stop being obedient to what it reflected. But it placed its toothbrush away just as Clara did. For the last time that day, Clara looked at the bathroom.
She flipped the switch and the room disappeared. Into nothingness, the bathtub vanished. The shower head reflected no light, and she wondered if anything crawled out of the mirror while she couldn’t see.
She shivered away the thought and crept outside.
Again, Clara was in the corridor – that long tunnel that measured from the bathroom to the master bedroom. Of course, it was Clara’s room that was placed the second-farthest from where she stood. It was also unfortunate that the switch to the corridor lights sat on the farthest end from there. Just how on Earth had her parents ever marched through the dark every night without a worry in the world? But determined and convinced that it was too childish, too puerile to cower from the mere absence of light, Clara fixed her eyes to her door. She saw the path to her room bright in front of her for the last time that day.
She flipped the switch. Into infinity, the corridor stretched and stretched. Clara pushed her hand on the nearest wall as the remaining three vanished.
She shivered and every invading, terrifying image scattered back into the static of her imagination. On she shuffled.
Suddenly, behind her…
Tut-tut-tut-tut-tut!
What was that?
Clara instinctively spun her head backwards. Her eyes widened in the dark, but of course, nothing was there. She crept forwards again.
BAM!
Suddenly, a scream flung out from the poor girl’s mouth. A fizzy rush pattered all over her spine, and she felt her forehead run cold. Without thought, she bolted into the safety of her bedroom and scrambled her hand for her favourite lamp.
Finally, she huffed out a breath; tension escaping from her nerves and dissolving into the air. She now truly felt she was secured by the four bedroom walls that looked after her night by night. One more second, and then she threw herself onto her desk chair. She knew that her next task was to continue her schoolwork again and she sighed, but in the end, she was just happy. She was happy she was the only one inside of her ordinary house. Her room was warm, lit up by that small lamp in her room – a light she knew she needed not to switch off, at least until her parents would finally return.
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