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

He allowed his head to turn, allowed himself to look out the window in the direction of the girl’s bedroom. It was black inside her window, light from the streetlamps projecting onto the house’s sides, bringing its already yellow tint further to life.

What he did was not a crime, he reasoned. All he had done was look out his window. It wasn’t his fault she was standing there naked in front of her own window. Where else was he supposed to look?

Then why did he feel this strange, guilt-like fear in the back of his skull, like a small horde of ants crawling around, whispering the truth to each other, that he had invaded this girl’s privacy?

He turned from the window and went to the door. He had to relocate his thoughts, and the annoying pressure in his abdomen seemed like a good place to start. He started down the hall, feeling the cold of the wooden floor against the bottoms of his feet. There was a chill in the air, and he wondered how cold it must have been outside despite how far they still were from winter.

The switch clicked, bathing the bathroom in bright white light. He released a deep breath, leaned back his head, and listened to the water trickle into the toilet, relief washing over him with each drop. It was cold in there as well, even though the only window into that room was small and closed. Perhaps it was the insulation. The house was old, and he wasn’t sure when the heating was last updated. But heat shouldn’t have been a problem quite yet anyway, given the time of the year.

He flipped the switch as he walked back out, bringing the hall to darkness. He passed closed doors on his way back to his bedroom. Back in bed, he stared up at the ceiling. Maybe if he counted imaginary sheep he would fall back to sleep. Or going downstairs and watching television was always a valid option.

Directly above Toby, the floor groaned. The sound was soft, but he happened to be staring straight at where the sound seemed to stem from. An epiphany came. Maybe that was where the cold air was getting in, the attic. There was probably little to no insulation between the ceiling of his bedroom and the floor of the attic. He wasn’t sure if there was anything for that matter, with what little knowledge he had about house construction. And this wasn’t the first time he heard sounds coming from the attic.

The wooden groan came again, only this time louder, with a different weight behind it, not like wind at all. The first thing his mind imagined was a person standing there, right over his head, staring out the window that he somehow remembered was there. He didn’t have to wait long before another groan came, this one in nearly the same location but not quiet this time, as if whatever was moving had shifted a foot or so to the side.

He considered the possibilities. Perhaps his uncle Robbie was up there. Before going to bed, his father had briefly mentioned how he and Robbie had talked and Robbie would be staying with them for a little while. But Robbie had chosen the small room next to Trevor’s bedroom, or that’s what he had thought. Toby hadn’t really stuck around to discuss it, eager to get to bed and get a new day rolling. Maybe Robbie had seen how big the attic was and chose that room instead.

He recalled then that just above him was also where the little room was, the attic being split nearly in half, into two separate areas. The idea of Robbie taking the attic seemed more realistic the longer he let the thought float around in his head. The room above him could be Robbie’s bedroom while the rest of the attic could function as a sort of entertainment area. It could be like having your own little apartment up there.

The idea was appealing to him. If only the attic didn’t creep him out for some strange reason. The groan came again, only this time, it continued for a few seconds before tapering awake.

There was a loud thud. Toby jerked up, leaping from the bed straight for his feet. His heart was pounding, his breaths heavy and loud. What the hell was that?

He thought he could hear a whimper, like someone crying, but it was too far off to tell if it was real or just some trick of the breeze. He was a little scared but also curious and a little annoyed if it was Robbie being loud up there in the middle of the night, watching videos on his phone or something. Toby hadn’t been sleeping, but it was the principal of the matter.

He decided he would go check out the room that was supposed to have been Robbie’s. He cracked his door quietly, a small part of him concerned that what was upstairs was actually an intruder and he didn’t want to tip it off that someone in the house was awake.

He inched his way down the hall much slower than he had on his way to the bathroom. As he passed by his parents’ room on the left, he considered waking his dad but changed his mind when he remembered how exhausted his dad had seemed the day before. And if this attic thing turned out to be nothing, his dad would be pissed. He would have to brave this one out himself.

He turned away from his parents’ door. If he reached Robbie’s room and his uncle was in there, what then? That would leave far fewer options, and answer one, the primary one, being that there really was an intruder upstairs. He guessed then he could just wake Robbie up for protection. His uncle was, at least for the most part, more physically intimidating