Well, here is my Urban Legend:
Locked
March March March! Slam! Lock! Her ponytail swayed side to side as her black combat boots
clapped together when she hopped onto her pink blossom comforter on her pink
bed in her pink room. It matched the long red cardinal colored roses in the
polished see through glass vase that sat on top of the wooden cabinet she used
to block her door from being opened before she upgraded to a lock. Last year her
room was purple and the year before that was baby blue. The decision for next year’s
color was still undecided by the rest of the designing club.
Knock Knock Knock. Steel Knuckles banging against the mahogany door to give Rebecca the sign
to open it and apologize for slamming it and babysit her little 11 year old
brother, Mark while she takes a “quick” stop at the grocery or do her turn of
washing the dishes for braking the car handle while slamming it, or clean the
mess she made in front of the TV, or - the list goes on… With that Rebecca
wisely responded,
“I’m doing homework. Don’t bother me!
That’s why I keep getting C’s in History! It’s all your fault mom!” She put her
ear phone buds back in her ear canal and waited until her mother walked away
before she started rummaging the keys on her keyboard. She hated to make Cindy,
the leader of the designing club wait for her response. She took out her cherry
ear buds once again for the exact purpose of hearing her mother’s keys jingle a
tune with each other while she left the house. Roaring Engine. Beeping for
backing up. Brake, then U turn and she was gone like the happiness in her
family. That was her goodbye. She believed that the walls where made so thin purposely
so that everyone could hear everything Rebecca did when they couldn’t it see it
when her door was closed, which it almost never was. Her parents remodeled the
house 3 years ago and Rebecca managed to convince them to get no windows in her
room. She was only left with a small skylight. With relief she took out the
itchy ear phones and blasted a river of electronic tunes and notes to wash away
the rules and responsibilities that were stained all over the house.
Her young brother,
who she considered The Annoying Next Door
Neighbor, came to complain once again. Mother was the knocker. Annoying
Next Door Neighbor was the whiner. Dad was just Dad. He kept quiet and let her do what she needed to do mostly. She
liked him best.
Rebecca lived in her room and only
her room like a prisoner. She only walked out of her cage when she knew
everyone was in their own. If someone found her, they would keep her there. Her
parents played 21 questions afterschool and before school gave her the instructions
on how to play it. Her favorite was the
quiet game.
Her perfect green eyes wanted to be
blue and her dirty blonde hair was tempted to bleach itself. She was perfect at
being imperfect. She walked home everyday to avoid being in the car with her
mother for exactly 3 minutes and 53 seconds. She came home and followed her
routine of March March March! Slam! Lock!
She sat on her bed with her books untouched in her backpack and her
computer opened on ichat. So busy with crush updates and gossip, an isolated
flower petal fell from her rose onto the dusty cabinet surface. Brown thin
lines outlined the petal veins, leaving it only to rot. CutieCindy45: Did your mom find out? Rebecca58: HAHA! No! She’s stupid. Knock Knock Knock!
“Dinner, come out,” she spoke softly
like she was talking to an unwanted puppy. She waited for the response that
never arrived.
“Open it up Rebecca! Enough is enough!” The knocker yelled.
“Mom go away! I’m not hungry! Bye!”
“I am taking away this lock if you
don’t open this door,” she started to yell as she twisted the knob back and forth.
“You’re so annoying!”
“We are having dinner and you are
coming out,” she found a hanger and shoved it through a key hole, trying to
unlock it.
Rebecca jumped off from her bed and
stood right next to her door, holding it back like a lion protecting its cubs.
A crimson rose petal fell onto Rebecca’s red checks blending the two colors to
create a bloody mess. Rebecca wrapped her thin fingers on the brass knob and
turned it open. She swung the door open all the way. Glanced at her mother and
slammed it back into her proud face. Her mother walked away, furious.
The next
morning Rebecca locked her room, walked out of the house and to school and
walked up to Cindy.
“That was a close one! She almost
opened my door and could have seen my computer.”
“That party was worth it anyway!” she
giggled like a robot. The day was over in a heartbeat and she returned to her
cage. March. Slam. Lock. Four Rose Petals gone. They lay all over the top like
a vermillion carpet hiding the dust.
The Annoying Next Door Neighbor pounded against her wooden
door.
“Rebecca open up! She’s gonna take
your lock! She’s gonna take it! You’ll have to keep it open!” he sang.
“Shut Up!” she rolled her eyes as she
walked to her desk to take out her laptop. It wasn’t there. A sudden panic ran
up and down Rebecca’s spin like two children on a seesaw. She zoned out until
she noticed the knocker behind her door. She didn’t knock on the door. She put an
unknown key in the hole and walked in. Leaving the door a crack open.
“Tomorrow, there is not going to be a
lock. Tonight, you stop given your parents attitude. You’re grounded because of
that party. You don’t own laptop anymore. I’m not doing you favors any longer.
You figure this out on your own. When you want to be in this family again let
me know when you’re ready Rebecca.”
The door had never been open for this long before.
“Get out of my room. I didn’t do
anything wrong! Get out!” Rebecca’s heart almost stopped. Her voice stuttered
between each word. As her mother walked away, short clicks from her heels
marked each second that shortened Rebecca’s life. Her mother left, slamming the
door, another rose petal fell, leaving a large rotting pile. She spent the rest
of the night in her bed thinking about how things used to be. The annoying next
door neighbor once long ago was her brother. Her dad used to care and her
mother as well. But that’s all over. She didn’t care much, at least she tried.
No one called her in for dinner that night. She ate her Halloween candy in her
room. Alone.
The
sun flashed light into Rebecca’s eyes making them squint into CD slits. She
couldn’t have breakfast because she needed to avoid the kitchen, so she just walked
out starving. When she came home, on her way to her room, she never noticed the fist and
knuckle marks on the other side of the door. This was the first time she took a
second to look at the door from the other side. It looked like a different
door. Not the same one she looked at when she heard the knocker. These marks
were made by strength. People tried to help her to get out. She glanced for
approximately 1.9 of a second and chills traveled through her when she heard
the keys jingle her least favorite song. The door opened and Rebecca ran in her
room slamming the door, harder than usual. The lock was still there. The
cabinet shook as if there was an earthquake, and 3 more petals fell off. One
left to go. Her computer was gone and now, she was left with nothing. She
looked through her skylight. The air looked so peaceful and calm. She wished
that she could sit on one of those cotton clouds and travel away with it. It
was open and free. She wanted to leave with the loose wind, unknown of what
would come to her next. Just then, she heard The Annoying Next Door Neighbor
set the table. Setting the forks and spoons so clumsy on the china plates, she
could hear every little thing so clearly. She stood up and put her ear against
the door. Her mother and father were laughing at Mark’s funny faces. They
sounded so inviting, she wanted to be there. Rebecca gained the courage to
unlock her room. She walked up so bravely and put her smooth hands on the ice
cold metal only to figure out that the door was still locked. She tried and
tried to unlock it. She couldn’t open the door. A mechanism of picks, plugs,
and pins were jammed. Her brave little
moment faded away into the fear of being alone for dinner once again. She
pounded and pounded against the door. She heard her family eating, enjoying
themselves, ignoring the loud disruptions upstairs. She shrieked in panic,
yelled and screamed and everyone ignored her.
After 15 minutes she gave up. At first she
thought the knocker had done it or the annoying next door neighbor. She sat on
her bed and waited for the sound of her mother walking upstairs to say
goodnight to Mark. Once she did, she started pounding again.
“MOM! Help mom! I’m stuck! Please!”
“Rebecca, this isn’t the time to
play. Go to bed.”
“No! mom just open my door!” Rebecca
started to yell so loud her throat became a bright red shade.
“I don’t want to help you. Go to bed
you have school tomorrow! Don’t make me call your father, now goodnight.”
“MOM! You did this! I am locked here
because of you! I hate you!” Rebecca said hopelessly, she spent the next night
with her eye against the lock, trying to open it. The next morning, the smell of banana bread and decomposing flowers made a mixture and invaded the air. Rebecca was still
unable to open her door. She laid her back against the door, her arms locked together;
she placed her head between her knees and began to cry. For not having real
friends or a family, she couldn’t find herself. The knocker had already gone to
work and the annoying next door neighbor was at school, the only person left
was dad.
“Dad!” Rebecca yelled over and over
again. Her father had arrived, cranky and tired from last night’s commotion.
“What is it this time Rebecca?”
“Dad! I’m locked! I cannot get out! I
locked myself in! Help me!”
“I cannot possibly understand why you
did this to yourself,” he muttered as he twisted the metal right and left and
back to right. After hours of trying,
her father looked for a lock smith around town. None existed. He called the
Paramedics. The knocker arrived home to the sight of red and yellow circling
lights in the drive way, the smell of old people, and men in black uniforms.
She now understood that this was serious.
They looked around the old house from
the outside and there were no windows in Rebecca’s room. They cut up the small
skylight, however it was no use. It was too small to fit her through. They
thought about braking down the door, however it was not screwed on like a
regular door, it was held by a special type of cement. It was glued and locked
in place. The paramedics eventually left and Rebecca stayed wide awake to watch
the last weak rose petal fall so gracefully, on the red mountain below it. She
folded her palms and cried into them. Her tears left traces down her neck.
She was the judged who sentenced herself
prison. Her parents were able to give her food down the skylight and thought they had it
all figured out. They were very wrong of course. You see, one gloomy day,
Rebecca was in her room and never came to the skylight. Her family had no
choice other than to cut the walls to get her. Once they did, all the unnecessary
debris filled the still air to reveal that she wasn’t there. Two days
later after searching, they found her dead rotting body in her closet covered
with the thorns running along the green stems that remained from her rose.
Many cases just
like Rebecca’s occurred again. Exactly one year from when she locked herself, a boy 58 miles from her died in his closet the moment he locked his door from his
parents. Another next year and the next. AND THE NEXT. . .
