Saturday: May 21, 2022
The first thing Aurora found out when she awoke that morning was that the moving truck wouldn’t be coming in until sometime Tuesday. It had been a relatively short phone call, and it was a fact that didn’t even bother her all that much. She had no problem with waiting. She could make do with what she already had with her for a few days without too many issues arising. Not to mention that the neighbors had given her enough food to feed a family of five for at least two weeks.
That being said, she settled for one of the oatmeal raisin cookies the elderly lady around the corner had brought for her.
In the kitchen, Aurora unpacked the plates and cups, setting them out on the counter. She began putting them away in their respective cupboards, deciding it was best to get that out of the way as soon as she could. If she didn’t do it now, she’d keep putting it off, day after day after day, and by then, she’d simply be willing to live in a house from an episode of Hoarders.
The bathroom door slammed shut.
Aurora froze, hands still on the small stack of plates she had put in the cupboard. She turned her head, looking back at the door over her left shoulder. She stared at it for several seconds, dropping a hand to rest on the shelf below the plates. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she turned back to the cabinet. A window in the bathroom must’ve been open. A sudden gust of wind must’ve shut the door.
The bathroom door opened, but she ignored it, like any sane person would.
The bathroom door slammed shut and opened again.
One hand still shoved in the cupboard, Aurora looked back over her left shoulder again. Gaze locked on the open door, she reached down and grabbed another stack of plates. Lifting them, she turned back to the cupboard and put them in their place. She grabbed a small stack of three or four plates. Just before she put them away, the door slammed shut again.
She froze, the plates in her hand just barely touching the others in the cupboard. She turned her head to look at the door, gently pushing the plates onto the top of the stack. A hand resting on the cupboard shelf, she turned fully around as the sound of giggling reached her ears. The bathroom door opening and closing was something she could explain away.
Children giggling in a house where no children lived was not.
She pushed herself away from the cupboard and the kitchen counter, unblinking as she kept her gaze on the door.
The door swung open. Just before she reached it, it slammed closed again.
She stood in front of the door, heart pounding wildly in her chest. She wrapped a hand around the doorknob, swallowed roughly, and threw open the door.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.