Post by grammarguru on Sept 24, 2015 19:08:15 GMT
Annabelle
Below 32 degrees is what the temperature gauge read on the side of the cabin. White frozen specks of condensation were raining down from the heavens as if the angels above were shedding tears. The wooden cabin was old and rickety with ages old lumber used as foundation, windows made of paper thin glass, and wind was howling against the sides of the cabin, creating ever-growing frost that crawled along the shabby sides of the house. Inside it was warmed by the orange fire crackling inside of its containment; the fireplace,the only object within the house that kept the two occupants blood circulating enough to keep them from freezing to death. In front of the fireplace was a child, an infant, nothing short of a year old. The gurgles and squeals that were baby language resonated through the cabin walls, effectively making the mother of the child shake her head and her eyes glisten in amusement.
"Don't get too close to the fire dear." she reprimanded. Eyeing the young one warily as it began to crawl around the rug-clad floorboards. She sighed in exasperation, not having enough power in her dreary mind to deal with the situation, and so, let it be. She wrapped the knitted blanket around her form tighter and sighed. Potential Christmas gifts for her young one plagued her, she doesn't have enough money to buy all of the things that her baby needed, which saddened her. If her job hadn't laid her off they would've been rolling in twenties by now. Deciding not to ruin their winter vacation by harboring over such things, she went over to her child and scooped her up from the floor, taking her with her to the sofa so she wouldn't be any closer to the fire than she already was, "Stop being so hyper and calm down now. Your father will be here soon with the firewood." Not really caring if the baby understood her or not, she sat her down on her lap and rocked her back and forth, hoping to God that she would sleep already.
Then suddenly, a creaking of a door was heard coming from down the hall.
The mother's head whip-lashed towards the direction of the sound, "Honey, are you home?" Not receiving an answer, she grumbled moodily and laid her baby down on the couch,"I'll be right back." She covered her legs with the blanket and made way down the hallway with candlelight in hand. A frown graced her features and her eyebrows creased in the middle as she noticed the front door was closed shut; locked. Looking through the open archways in the kitchen, she spotted that the basement door was open. 'Why would he be down there?'. Without hesitance, she walked through the kitchen and towards the basement. She looked down the stairwell, "Hello?" She shivered as she was met with nothing but silence. Calming herself, she breathed deeply, closed, then locked the door and in no time she was back into the living room. A huff left her lips once she sunk into the couch. Leaning over, she made to pick up her child from the other side of the chair, but halted in her tracks.
The baby was gone.
"Annabelle?" she inquired. Her nimble hands trembled as she picked up the blanket. Her hazel orbs scavenged the room, her heart beating out of her chest and blood rushing like a river within her ears. Every table, lamp, chair, and basket was toppled over as the woman rampaged through the house, "Annabelle!? Where are you honey?" she half screamed in the middle of the kitchen. Right then, the door of the basement was slammed open. With hurried steps she ran towards towards the door and down the stairwell. With limited vision, she searched for the chain that was connected to the lamp in the corner of the room. Finding it, she hastily pulled; turning and instantly greeting the vision of a doll sitting in the middle of the vast expanse of the floor.
She fell to the floor in tears, who would do this to her baby?
Just like her baby, the doll's hair was full of brunette strands which were intertwined into two pigtails. At both ends were two red ribbons tied into bows, and she was clad in a white dress with black church shoes.
"Don't get too close to the fire dear." she reprimanded. Eyeing the young one warily as it began to crawl around the rug-clad floorboards. She sighed in exasperation, not having enough power in her dreary mind to deal with the situation, and so, let it be. She wrapped the knitted blanket around her form tighter and sighed. Potential Christmas gifts for her young one plagued her, she doesn't have enough money to buy all of the things that her baby needed, which saddened her. If her job hadn't laid her off they would've been rolling in twenties by now. Deciding not to ruin their winter vacation by harboring over such things, she went over to her child and scooped her up from the floor, taking her with her to the sofa so she wouldn't be any closer to the fire than she already was, "Stop being so hyper and calm down now. Your father will be here soon with the firewood." Not really caring if the baby understood her or not, she sat her down on her lap and rocked her back and forth, hoping to God that she would sleep already.
Then suddenly, a creaking of a door was heard coming from down the hall.
The mother's head whip-lashed towards the direction of the sound, "Honey, are you home?" Not receiving an answer, she grumbled moodily and laid her baby down on the couch,"I'll be right back." She covered her legs with the blanket and made way down the hallway with candlelight in hand. A frown graced her features and her eyebrows creased in the middle as she noticed the front door was closed shut; locked. Looking through the open archways in the kitchen, she spotted that the basement door was open. 'Why would he be down there?'. Without hesitance, she walked through the kitchen and towards the basement. She looked down the stairwell, "Hello?" She shivered as she was met with nothing but silence. Calming herself, she breathed deeply, closed, then locked the door and in no time she was back into the living room. A huff left her lips once she sunk into the couch. Leaning over, she made to pick up her child from the other side of the chair, but halted in her tracks.
The baby was gone.
"Annabelle?" she inquired. Her nimble hands trembled as she picked up the blanket. Her hazel orbs scavenged the room, her heart beating out of her chest and blood rushing like a river within her ears. Every table, lamp, chair, and basket was toppled over as the woman rampaged through the house, "Annabelle!? Where are you honey?" she half screamed in the middle of the kitchen. Right then, the door of the basement was slammed open. With hurried steps she ran towards towards the door and down the stairwell. With limited vision, she searched for the chain that was connected to the lamp in the corner of the room. Finding it, she hastily pulled; turning and instantly greeting the vision of a doll sitting in the middle of the vast expanse of the floor.
She fell to the floor in tears, who would do this to her baby?
Just like her baby, the doll's hair was full of brunette strands which were intertwined into two pigtails. At both ends were two red ribbons tied into bows, and she was clad in a white dress with black church shoes.
It was Annabelle.