Kaya's Walls Pt.3
The first few weeks of summer went by suprisingly fast. Each morning Kaya awoke feeling more and more strange, and less and less like herself. Her father had begun to spend more and more time with his friend from work, who she later learned was named Janice. Kaya hated that name, and ironically didn't like Janice too much either. Soon her father was staying out with Janice all day and Kaya was home alone every day and sometimes overnight.
She passed her time sitting on the floor. She liked the way the carpet felt on her hands and legs. On really hot days she would sit in the kitchen or in the bathroom. The tiles were cool on her skin. She had respect for floors, as if they had feeling. You could always find her alone, on the floor, staring at the walls. It was almost like a ritual.
She ate less and less each day, and rarely saw her father. She knew that he came home occasionally because the dishes would be done and there would be food in the cupboards, but she was always asleep when he came. She figured soon enough he would forget she existed. Janice was all that mattered to him now.
Kaya wrote in her journal less and less. She began to write less and less in general. Papers no longer cluttered her room, and her journal was in a drawer she rarely opened. She hadn't talked to anyone in over two weeks. She decided to go to a nearby park.
She sat on the swing. She pumped her feet forwards and backwards until she was soaring so high that the chains jerked in her hands when she came down. She had always loved swings. They were her way of flying. Soon enough though she got tired of swinging and came to a stop, kicking up sand as she slowed herself to do so.
She came home shortly after seven and sat on the livingroom floor to read a book she had found in her father's room a few days before. As she went to open the book she heard someone call her name. It was a very quiet and weak voice, but in such a silent house, it wasnt hard for Kaya to hear it. She rolled over on the floor and looked around but saw noone in sight. She decided to ignore it and went back to the book.
"Kaya..." came the voice again. She was sure that she ahd heard it this time. She stood up and walked to the kitchen. There wasn't anyone in sight. She cecked the washroom and the bedrooms and looked out the windows. The voice was too quiet to be outside anyways.
She began to tremble when she heard the voice call to her for the third time. It sounded like it was coming from all around her. She ran back to the livingroom and sat on the carpet again. She held the carpet tight between her fingers. Her knuckles were turning white and her gaze was straight forward on the wall. It appeared that she was just staring, almost scared. "Hello." She said. A long pause went by.
"Hello, child..." came the reply after a few minutes.
Kaya passed out on the floor.
She passed her time sitting on the floor. She liked the way the carpet felt on her hands and legs. On really hot days she would sit in the kitchen or in the bathroom. The tiles were cool on her skin. She had respect for floors, as if they had feeling. You could always find her alone, on the floor, staring at the walls. It was almost like a ritual.
She ate less and less each day, and rarely saw her father. She knew that he came home occasionally because the dishes would be done and there would be food in the cupboards, but she was always asleep when he came. She figured soon enough he would forget she existed. Janice was all that mattered to him now.
Kaya wrote in her journal less and less. She began to write less and less in general. Papers no longer cluttered her room, and her journal was in a drawer she rarely opened. She hadn't talked to anyone in over two weeks. She decided to go to a nearby park.
She sat on the swing. She pumped her feet forwards and backwards until she was soaring so high that the chains jerked in her hands when she came down. She had always loved swings. They were her way of flying. Soon enough though she got tired of swinging and came to a stop, kicking up sand as she slowed herself to do so.
She came home shortly after seven and sat on the livingroom floor to read a book she had found in her father's room a few days before. As she went to open the book she heard someone call her name. It was a very quiet and weak voice, but in such a silent house, it wasnt hard for Kaya to hear it. She rolled over on the floor and looked around but saw noone in sight. She decided to ignore it and went back to the book.
"Kaya..." came the voice again. She was sure that she ahd heard it this time. She stood up and walked to the kitchen. There wasn't anyone in sight. She cecked the washroom and the bedrooms and looked out the windows. The voice was too quiet to be outside anyways.
She began to tremble when she heard the voice call to her for the third time. It sounded like it was coming from all around her. She ran back to the livingroom and sat on the carpet again. She held the carpet tight between her fingers. Her knuckles were turning white and her gaze was straight forward on the wall. It appeared that she was just staring, almost scared. "Hello." She said. A long pause went by.
"Hello, child..." came the reply after a few minutes.
Kaya passed out on the floor.
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