Horror Stories from Horrified - Volume One (2)

as quickly as possible.
On the last set of steps, I tr ipped, tw isting my ankle. My r ight high-heel toppled to
the bottom of the stair s. It hur t, but not enough for me to stop.
"Rose! Rose! Don't you leave me? " Henr y shouted.
Reaching the bottom, I gr abbed my shoe, slipping it on w ith one hand w hile
hopping towar ds the fr ont door w ith the other leg.
I gr appled w ith the door handle. Stiff as always-
"Don't do it..." Henr y said. I tur ned. He was at the bottom step. God know s how
he r eached me that quick.
My expr ession sw itched fr om sheer anguish, to pity, as I looked him str aight in
the eye. Then my deter mination kicked in all at once. I shr ieked as I gave the door
handle one almighty tw ist w ith both hands; it opened. A flood of cold fr esh air and
noise fr om the main r oad hit me squar e in the face ? fr eedom.
I pulled the door w ide open, tur ned and said, "Goodbye, Henr y."
My heels w er e clicking the floor tiles below me as I r an for the fr ont gate and
main r oad. I opened the gate and stepped out onto the pavement. Once ther e, I
consciously slow ed dow n, took a deep br eath, and r ever ted to sane human
behaviour to avoid attention. I looked both ways and tur ned r ight dow n the moonlit
r oad.
A shor t distance away fr om the house, I tur ned and looked up at the w indow. She
was ther e again, head dow n, w r iting. Then her head r ose, slow ly. This time I didn?t
feel scar ed. She looked str aight at me, for w hat felt like an eter nity, befor e fading
away, together w ith the light in the r oom.
I walked. And walked. And walked, cr ossing the busy main r oad, tur ning into the
cobble-stoned Hayfield Passage. Away fr om the house.
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