A Place So Wicked by Patrick Reuman (life books to read txt) 📕

was crawling into him, filling him like smoke in a burning house, ready to clog up his airways and suffocate him. He had the sudden fear that if he were to die right then, the basement’s stench would be too terrible for anybody to venture in and retrieve his body, that the smoke would consume his remains like a hoard of starving insects. Like the tree in the front yard, he would become a hollow corpse. He didn’t want to rot alone down there in that pit.

Beyond Robbie, Richard could see the outline of the hall light circling the basement door. They were so close to freedom. Just as he almost let the feeling of happiness enter his being, he felt something. It was a light pull, like a child tugging on your pantleg because he or she wanted to tell you something. Except he felt the tug everywhere, at every corner of his body, under his clothes, all around him. As if the dark itself was pulling at him. As if the dark didn’t want him to leave.

10

Every window in the house was open as they tried to vent out the smell, which had engulfed the place from top to bottom. Toby was upstairs, sitting at the window, taking in the soft breeze that trickled in far slower than he liked, along with the fresh air that he craved so deeply after having reentered the house.

Everybody had unanimously forgone dinner that night, all far too nauseated to even imagine eating. Not even his mother’s delicious chicken soup sounded good right then. Not only was he upstairs because dinner had been cancelled and the whole house, especially the downstairs, smelled atrocious, but because his dad was in one of the worst moods Toby had ever seen him in. He had stormed around for long minutes, infuriated that the realtor wouldn’t pick up the phone.

Toby wasn’t surprised the man wasn’t picking up the phone. It was late in the evening. He was probably at home eating dinner with his family. Even if he had noticed the calls coming in from their father, Toby doubted the realtor would answer knowing his dad had been angry about the missing key earlier that day.

It was pretty shitty, though, what was going on. Toby wasn’t sure if the realtor would have any idea what exactly was taking place there, about the smell. But he had to know about the grass and the tree. Someone had to be in charge of getting it painted. But the smell in the basement may have been something different altogether.

It didn’t simply smell like something had crawled into there and died, which was his father’s theory. No. It smelled much worse, like a squirrel had crawled into there and died, but then one of his squirrel friends saw his corpse in there and decided to try and help but also ended up stuck and dead, and then another noticed those two and wanted to go check it out for themselves and died as well, and so on for a hundred years, until that room in the basement was filled to the brim with the decayed bodies of a thousand dead, rotting squirrels.

He shuddered at the thought as he turned away from the window. His stomach shifted, like someone was stirring its contents clumsily. He felt a moment of dizziness but regained his composure and stood. Maybe it would be best if he just went to bed for the night. God knew he was eager to get this day over with.

He turned back toward the window and froze. He knew right away that he should look away. If he had any dignity at all, any decency, he would turn and leave the room. But he didn’t. He stood there, his feet plastered to the floor, frozen to his core as he stared out the window at the house across the street.

With unreal clarity, he watched as Addy undressed in front of the window, in a room directly across from his own. She reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, allowing it to fall from her breasts, which remained firm and upright. They were large and beautiful, jiggling just a little as she leaned forward to pull down her underwear. When she did, and she turned toward the window, he caught a glimpse of what looked like a patch of shade, a tuft of elegant pubic hair concealing her lower parts from view.

But she was facing the window now, so he dove to the side, lurching for cover. His heart pounded in his chest. Had she seen him spying? Was it spying if he was simply looking out his own bedroom window? He wondered if he could get arrested for looking out his own window if what he was looking at was something he wasn’t supposed to see.

He told himself he had done nothing wrong even as he felt his hard bulge pressing against the inside of his pajama pants as it fought to stand erect. He took in a deep breath, and then another, before peeking quickly out his bedroom window once again. The window across the street had gone dark. He looked on for a moment and noticed a sign of motion in the blackness of the house, unsure of whether it was someone moving within or a curtain settling in place. In the dark, he just couldn’t tell.

He stepped away from the window and went to find his place in bed. He finally closed his eyes, hoping to force himself to sleep, to dream away the day’s events, especially the one that had just happened. Tomorrow, he would act like he had hadn’t seen a thing out his bedroom window, nothing at all.

Trevor laid there, staring at the wall, holding his stomach. Everyone had gone to bed, which he was thankful for. His stomach had been hurting, but his head was