The Glimpse: Stories Through the Keyhole
She saw too much.

She saw too much.
šššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšš
Marilyn had just moved into the remote, backwater town of Scaresdale-- not willingly.
The teen's life was a jigsaw puzzle she was trying to put together within a new frame-- and new town.
She and her family had just finished freeing a row of cartons of their contents--
Finally.
Some time to explore.
Hide and Go Seek occupied the children--
It was time for Marilyn to do some exploring of her own.
Somehow, the attic had become her center of attention.
An irresistible magnet.
She stepped in, and saw--
A door.
After fiddling about with it for 10 minutes, it was time to put up the white flag.
Then, a shadow beneath it caught her eye.
Sounds of movement within the space-- it had to be a room-- next door.
A wooden door-- locked.
A curious beam of light from the shaft below.
Marylin's hands tugged at the stubborn handle.
It didn't budge.
She peered through the keyhole.
A flash of red.
šššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšš
Rapid motion. Too quick. Too final.
An odd shape.
Familiar-- yet not.
It recoiled from her vision--
As if knowing it had been seen.
šššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšš
Marilyn froze, unsure whether to open the door--
Or run for her life.
The shadow broke apart in her mind, filling the empty spaces-
With dread.
That she couldn't name.
The air pressed harder, swallowing her.
Her breath seemed to strangle-- not relieve.
The room shrank, sandwiching her between its walls.
šššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšš
The shadow enlarged, morphing into different shapes.
Then, distorted, creeping sounds below the door.
It crept up in different spaces--
Dark corners of the room.
On the glass.
On the television screen.
šššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšš
The walls pulsed with voiceless whispers--
Terrifyingly quiet.
Beyond the keyhole--
Arms overlapping.
A smell of lavender perfume--too familiar.
Two shadows--
Close to her in age.
Too familial.
Clear-- in her mind.
šššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšš
Marilyn bounced a step back from the keyhole, a wrench around her mind.
The familiar, familial shadows.
The lavender perfume she knew too well.
The arms wrapping. Too close.
The scenes replayed in a mental tape recorder--
Gone awry.
šššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšš
Marylin's hand hovered above the doorknob--
But didn't turn it.
Her finger stayed in place.
Numb.
Should she?
The family.
Her eye caught a photograph of them on the wall.
All smiles at her 6th-year birthday party.
The glass was cracked.
šššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšš
The room felt--
Smaller.
Cramped.
Beyond the keyhole--
The familiar shadows still moved, too close.
The whispering of the walls grew louder.
Her mind swiveled--
To open the door,
Not.
A dark heaviness descended on her shoulders.
Her heart throbbed, an erratic rhythm.
Figures in the photograph she knew--
And loved.
This.
Her fingers wrapped around the door knob--
But couldn't pull.
Cold sweat dripped down her fingers.
She had seen too much.
Ready--
To snap.
šššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšš
The teenager couldn't move.
She stood still, unable to speak.
Beyond the keyhole, the shadows diminished.
Finally.
But not in her mind.
The smell of the familiar perfume lingered in the air--
The scent too cloying.
The imprint remained.
Covered in mental dust.
A stain that wouldn't vanish no matter how much remover she used.
Never entirely swept away.
The print wrapped itself around her mind--
When it stopped to see.
šššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšš
Marilyn visited the house years later-
In her litigator's capacity.
Her father had bequeathed it to her.
He felt he owed it.
A debt he could never repay in full.
The other familiar figure--
Too present.
At get-togethers. Family events.
Always kind.
Offering hugs and love.
Even support when she needed it.
But never comfort.
She had seen too much--
Through that keyhole--
But thankfully--
Didn't snap.
šššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšššļøš³ļøššššļøš³ļøšš
Original keyhole mystery by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.
For Vocal's Through The Keyhole Challenge
About the Creator
Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin
Hi, i am an English Language teacher cum freelance writer with a taste for pets, prose and poetry. When I'm not writing my heart out, I'm playing with my three dogs, Zorra, Cloudy and Snowball.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.