I woke up with the door of my room completely wide open. I know it's probably just one of my obnoxious sisters but it's stuff like this that makes me slightly paranoid. First off, I'm ALWAYS naked in my room (except when it's super cold) and the son of the landlady sometimes visits the house to get some things from the locked rooms.
Lemme tell you a bit of our abode first before I go on.
It's an old two-storey house with the reputation of being haunted. I could never have privacy when I used to be situated downstairs along with my sisters so I moved up here to the 2nd floor where the atmosphere is the creepiest. And by creepiest, I mean, it's absolutely dark and dead. It's a pretty big house and there are three more rooms up here with me that are unoccupied. I may have given a bit of life on this floor but the way up here is still gloomy and spooky because we never bothered to install lights for the staircase and the hall. It goes to my liking, to be honest, and I want to keep it that way. The witches I live with are a bunch of scaredy-cats so the scarier my area is, the less they disturb me. I even chose the very room which used to belong to the landlady's sister whose death downstairs in the parlour is well-known to my siblings just to add more eeriness to my location.
Now, before I fall asleep, I don't lock the door to my room at all. I used to, but then the thought that I might die in my sleep popped into my head so at least, if I'd make some dying sounds, they could hear me. But I doubt that, honestly. You literally have to SCREAM to be heard if you're upstairs and they're down there, so.. yeah, that's a problem. I still keep my room unlocked either way, in case I truly die. I don't want my dead body to rot in here because my sisters don't have a spare key to my room.
Also, last summer, something happened with my door knob that makes me more mindful now.
I was crying that dawn so I locked the door and when I tried to open it again in the morning, the knob wouldn't budge. I was trapped for like half a day but it didn't really worry me that much because I knew a way to get out. The wall that separates my room from the next room doesn't completely go up the ceiling. It has about an 8 to 10 inches gap in between and all I have to do is just climb it, get to the next room, open the door, and voilà. Hello, outside world. Thank god I'm tiny and can fit in the tight space otherwise I'd be trapped longer considering the delay of the help which arrived three days later.
I refused to sleep anywhere other than my own bed so within those three days, I was climbing back and forth in between rooms that I was starting to feel like spiderman. And when help came (the son of the landlady and a man around here), my fucking sister didn't inform them that I was in my room sleeping.
And as I've already mentioned above, I'm always NAKED in my room.
So imagine my surprise having seen two men in between the doorway upon waking up with strange noises. They didn't see my whole body—THANK GOD—but I immediately covered my whole being with the blanket. They said their apologies but I was in no mood to move from my position at all because feeling violated made me so angry. They were already there so I just let them finish the job all the while wishing a meteorite would fall and blow up the entire door. To top everything off, it was summer so it was freaking hot and we have no air-conditioning in this house so I was there in the pretense of being asleep, silently curled up underneath my blanket naked, literally BOILING in anger.
They fixed the knob and I gave my little sister a good snarl from my rage. Ever since then, I started being paranoid. What if the son left a hidden camera in my room or something? He's an engineer and he's got all these devices and machines. Between the two men, I put my trust more towards the other man who was the same man who told me that the son is a drug user. And to be honest? I believe him.
The fact that I get checked out a lot when I go out doesn't help parry my suspicions off at all, either. There are days when I strangely get stared at more often than usual in a way where they'd give me these smiles or looks.. Looks that manifest knowing and sinister expressions.. The very kind that makes my mind run wild with thoughts like, what if the son has some kind of private chat room or whatever where they view a live footage of me in my room? Because most of the time, I don't even wear short clothes when I go out in the vicinity of my neighbourhood or even when I go grocery shopping so why would they look at me like that? When it's just a normal promenade, I'm usually covered to avoid unwanted attention. You'd think being wrapped in the ugliest baggy clothes would give you some kind of talisman from disgusting men when the truth is, it doesn't matter what you wear at all. Pigs will be pigs. But pigs are cute. Ulch. I hate how these bastards are even being metaphorically associated with innocent animals.
(BTW, when I think of engineers, I think of Howard from the sitcom "Big Bag Theory" so maybe my paranoia with the landlady's son has something to do with that? For those who aren't familiar with the show, Howard is an absolute creep. I'm not saying, of course, that I assume all engineers are like that. It's just... Alright. Let me correct what I said because I got it all wrong. If you're an engineer and you radiate qualities of being a perv, Howard is the first thing that comes to mind. Voilà. Had I not known the son does drugs, I prolly won't be thinking of him this way in the first place.)
So, anyway. My room takes the farthest walk on the upper floor and next to it is just the balcony. Turns out my little sister was just hanging her laundry there and being the scaredy-cat that she is, she opened my door to make sure there was a human presence near her. I mean, it's annoying but it's okay, I guess. What's not okay is when they don't close it back. What if the son comes up, passes my room and sees me lying in bed naked? Or what if an intruder gets in through the balcony door and the first thing they see is me sprawled on my bed with nothing but undies on? Seriously. And it's so vexatious to drag my ass up and walk the distance across the room to shut the door close, all the while cursing under my breath.
My sisters truly make themselves perfect targets for a scare because they get easily frightened.
Speaking of. One time, not too long ago, I had a dream where there's a kid underneath my bed that's gagged and tied and lil sissie walked in to wake me up to borrow my earphones. I was still half-asleep so I told her to go look for it under my bed but in my head, it was only for her to check for me if there really was a kid down there. Lmfao. She said the earphones weren't there, which I knew, of course. They were just tangled among my covers. When I went down, I told them about my dream and then she exclaimed, "No wonder you made me look under your bed!" She made a delayed sound of fright and slapped my arm. It was hilarious.
That's all for now.
À toute.
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