So Close

By Juda Maha 😜

I slowly crack my eyes open, and I am met with my cardboard ceiling. I sit up from my cotton-ball bed, and I wipe the small beads out of my eyes and take in my surroundings. I have tissue as a carpet. I used a needle to cut out windows. I can see the entire room out of it. The room belongs to a teenage boy, who didn’t take good care of it. The floor was often littered with food, loose clothing, and lots of other things. I have been living in the boy’s closet for almost a decade. And today I decided that this is the day I would leave the house. It is no easy task. It already took me almost two hours to reach the other side of the boy’s room.

 

There is plenty of other things I need to worry about. The family dog, for instance. I run a high risk of being stomped on. I’ve been planning this for months, and I’ve ranked all the family members by their level of danger. The lowest is the mother. She spends most of her time at work and comes home late. The second lowest is the eldest boy. He is at high school most of the time, and when he’s not, he’s sleeping. The second most dangerous is the dog. He was much worse in his younger years, but he could still easily kill me. But by far the most dangerous one is the youngest son. He’s only about five years old and is a complete wild card. Sometimes he’s sleeping peacefully in his bed. But other times he’s running rampant in the house, crushing anything in his wake with his bare hands. He could kill me in an instant. I step out of my cardboard house, clutching my needle. It is the only thing I have to defend myself. The closet is small for a human but massive for me. Cobwebs hang in each corner, including on my cardboard house. Massive balls of dust float in the air, and I see them only because of the light piercing through the small cracks in the door. With a heavy heart, I crawl under the doorframe. The sharp, yellow light hits my eyes, almost burning them. After I adjust to the brightness, I find that the room is still in shambles. Loose articles of clothing are strewn all over the floor. I climb up one, trying to distract myself from its awful smell. The door is closed. That’s one thing I didn’t plan for.  I shrug it off and continue my journey to the door. I’ll deal with it later. Right now, there’s nothing I can do but continue walking. But by the time I reach the halfway mark of the room, the eldest brother bursts through the door. I quickly hide underneath a pile of clothing. I try my best not to breathe the disgusting smell. The boy throws his bag to the floor. I can tell because it lands right next to me, almost crushing my arm.

 

I slowly lift the shirt off of my face, to get a better look at what the boy is doing. The door is wide open, and the boy is at his desk. I look to my right. A small pile of clothing sits on the floor. I quickly sprint and hide behind it, as to not get caught. I know the boy has a kitchen knife in his desk drawer. I repeat this tactic, skidding quickly to the next pile of clothing. I lie flat on my stomach, calculating my next move. By now, I’m out of breath. The door is so close, yet so far. Without much thought, I make a mad dash out. But unfortunately for me, I trip on a loose pencil, faceplanting into the hardwood. I quickly turn around, my nose stinging in pain.  The boy looms over me, as big as a skyscraper. He quickly raises his shoe, bringing it down fast. I quickly dive out of the way, and into a pile of clothing. The boy looks at the bottom of his shoe, and shrugs. I’m breathing hard, and deeply regretting my decision. I climb down the clothing and crawl inside of it. I’ll spend the rest of the day here. I’m still not sure what I want to do.

 

I’ve always hated this house. I’ve spent so long scurrying around, trying not to die. I’ve come close, plenty of times. It’s hard. Every day a constant battle to stay alive. Whether it be at the hands of the dog, the youngest boy, or even my surroundings. One day, I had to climb up a giant shelf to get some food in the pantry. The house is massive, and not just massive for me. There are three stories. Right now, I’m in the third or the highest story. Once you exit the boy’s room, there is a massive staircase. It’ll probably be a tough journey. I only know that from the few times I can see out the door. I know the main door is on the last level. But that’s it. As of now, I’m huddled in a shirt. I have to go. If I stay here, it’ll only be a matter of time before I’m killed.

 

I suddenly jolt awake, and I am greeted by darkness. I almost forgot what happened yesterday, before I am greeted with the awful smell of the boy’s clothing. I climb out of it and look around. The room is partially lit by the moonlight. My perfect shot. I dash out and collapse in a pile next to the massive door. I make it out of the room. I don’t know what awaits me downstairs, but I trust it’ll be worth it. I slowly walk down the hallway, taking in the room. A massive bookshelf towers over me. The staircase is much bigger than I expected it to be. When I reach the first step, I realize it’s almost impossible for me to make it down even one step without breaking my legs. I look around, desperate for something I can use to get down. Then I see the couch behind the bookshelf. I can cut it open with my needle and take the stuffing. That might be able to stop my fall. I start to run across the floor, and into the tall carpet fuzz. It looks like a vast wheat field from my perspective.  I trudge through it. It’ll take a bit, as it makes it harder to see. But eventually, I can see the couch, casting a large shadow on me. I run underneath the couch and thrust my needle upwards. I keep doing this until the fabric breaks. The stuffing falls on me, like a soft cloud. I grab as much as I can take and run towards the stairs. I stand right at the edge. The long staircase is daunting. I hold the stuffing to my chest, take a leap of faith, and close my eyes. In a few seconds, my chest starts to sting. I open my eyes, greeted by the carpeted stairs. I take a few seconds to process the pain; it’s not too bad. But I don’t think I could do it 11 more times. I take a deep breath and jump down the next step. The pain stings like a thousand bees. I make a sharp cry of pain, and soldier on. Each step gets harder and harder, and when I reach the final step, I am completely exhausted. I pull my head up, and I gasp. The room is massive. But I can see the door to my left. The sight keeps me going. And so I jump down the last step. The second I touch the air, my eyes close.

 

When I awake, I am met with a sudden sting of pain in my arm. I can feel myself dangling, like a ragdoll. I look up. My arm is covered in water. I can only see a giant mouth. It’s the dog. The needle hangs in my free hand. I try to remain calm, but the pain in my chest and arm reminds me of what’s happening. I use all the strength in my body and yank my arm free. I plummet to the floor, the impact reminding me of the staircase, only harder and much more painful. The dog then runs past me, stomping my bad arm as he goes. I pick myself up and run to the nearest cover, under another couch. As I reach the couch, I take a deep breath.

My arm is mangled. I can see the bone. It takes all my effort not to pass out. I touch the exposed bone, and I wince in pain. A red stain has already formed on the carpet. “Come on, you need to escape,” I say out loud. It gives me some motivation. But every other part of me wants to stay here. After much internal conflict, I crawl out of the massive cave that is at the bottom of the couch. I can see the door. It’s so close. But right as I continue my journey, the youngest boy runs out of the door, leaving it gaping open behind him. He then looks at me. My eyes widen, and I scurry back under the couch. The boy jams his hand under the couch, each time getting closer to picking me up. He then grabs my bad arm. I scream in pain, and he drags me out from underneath the couch. He inspects me with dead eyes, his only goal being to cause pain and destruction. He laughs maniacally. He then swings me in the sky, launching me far into the sky. I know this is the end. I hit the ground. The pain is immeasurable, like a million sharp knives, piercing my body. I can hardly keep my eyes open. I can see the door above me. It towers over me, and I can feel the breeze of the front door. I was so close. So close.