The Candles

         Open. A decrepit room in the basement of a seemingly normal, bland home in Minneapolis; her city of lights. She was not allowed inside this damp and musky place, but like always, her curiosity got the best of her and she decided she must investigate what secrets were held in this room of mystery.
         The giant, incoherent door was carved from mahogany displaying tiny figures that she could not depict in the gloom but looked as if they were dancing, yet crying. She attempted to flip the switch for the single basement light bulb, but it had burnt out countless years ago. The door was bolted shut, and as she fumbled for the handle in the darkness, she found an icy square padlock and chain hugging the warped metal shaft. The red flakes sprinkled the floor as the rusted barriers dissolved through her fingers, and she shoved the door open. Immediately she felt a cold burst of air engulf her entire body. “Shit!” she managed to exclaim between the chatters of her teeth.
         Lingering in emptiness sat four candles posing on an invisible table, separated only by the dust and spiderwebs that littered the space. Expecting to find papers or other random objects that would be lying on a desk, she cautiously tiptoed over but recovered nothing. Only the candles and their pulsating glow stood with her, but she could sense another presence and she promptly whirled around on her toes but saw no one and nothing but darkness so thick it was petrified. She could have sworn she left left the door open, and knew she did not hear it shut, but it was too obscure for it to still be free. She ignored her creeping fear and slowly turned to face the candles.
         Wax dripped down all sides forming mountains that had almost enclosed the whole surface of the desk, but the candles still rose tall. “How is this possible?” she whispered to herself. “And more importantly, how are they still lit?”
         Flames licked the air, but only one on the far left flickered, creating a mesmerizing light show on the wall. This confused her, the other flames were completely solid, where as this one kept breaking up like bad television reception and was the shortest of all, shrinking by the second as its wax carved rivers in the dried resin. She was entranced by the whole scene; the morbid dark humor she saw in herself reflected in the area she could now take advantage of. Once she awoke to reality, she heard footsteps in the stairwell and hurried out, but promised to revisit.
         She returned to the candles every day, speaking to them, revealing her darkest secrets and deepest fears. She spoke of her family; her six year old brother, ailing mother, and vile stepfather. She confessed horror stories of how her stepfather viciously beat on her younger brother without reason; how she would move to protect him and was injured herself. She was perfectly content with being bruised and broken if it saved her brother. She wouldn't trade all the money in the world for him because he was the only one who would never leave her and could not understand why anyone would harm such an innocent child. No one from the outside world was aware that this dull, standard house had transformed itself into a torture chamber; no one except the candles.
         She considered no one a true friend, but she perceived something in this room, in the candles. An unidentifiable being trapped within the walls, blanketing her with a love she had never felt before when she spoke. She was certain she was not going insane; there was something. She may not be able to explain, but there was that gut feeling every time she was locked the entrapment, and so she kept on.
         A week passed since her last session with the candles. She had become confined to the exceptionally clean hospital waiting room, living on potato chips and burnt coffee loaded with cream and sugar. Her mother's condition had taken a fatal turn one night as she lay in her bed. She had begun to convulse, shaking the bed so powerfully the legs almost broke in two. She choked and started foaming at the mouth like a vicious animal on the attack, and finally, eyes wide to the popcorn ceiling, blood and various stomach fluids dripped onto the paisley bed sheets.
         Her stepfather begged the EMTs to approve of him riding in the ambulance with her mother strapped to the stretcher, leaving her to wake up her brother, get him ready, and drive urgently in the dead of night to the hospital, where they have been waiting ever since.
         Finally, the doctors emerged from the forbidden hallway and made their way to the area she and her brother had adopted. Their mother was dead. The doctors had been so cold, so uninviting, and were gone as fast as they arrived as if they were never there at all. Her brother was too young to understand the extremeness of what happened so in her mind's eye, she had to stay strong for his sake. She never shed a tear, but on the inside it felt like her organs had shriveled into a wrinkled mess and began to rot. She drove her brother home, all the while like a zombie; a silent blank expression masked her true emotions.
         Returning to the asylum she calls home, she made a beeline for the candles, collapsed to the cold stone, and began to sob. It understood; she did not need to speak to this looming aura for it to realize the situation. It swirled around her holding her tight in order to stop her shaking. It was freezing, but she did not mind; it was a warmer touch than she had felt from anyone else. Tears stung her eyes as her black makeup ran down her porcelain skin, coming to rest in her lap.
         She eventually ceased to cry, but sniffled and raised her head to the desk before her. One of the candles had gone out. Wobbling and confused, she stood and headed upstairs to obtain new matches. As she snuck back downstairs, careful to not disturb the creaking stairs, she sensed someone's eyes on her back like they knew exactly where she was going. She shook off her paranoia and concentrated on getting to her destination without breaking down.
         Once inside the candle room she felt an anger, but not directed towards her. She asked what was wrong, but the anger only grew larger until suddenly the wooden door burst open, flooding the room with a dim light so dust was like tiny gnats infesting the vault's innards. Her stepfather was stopped in the doorway, glaring at her like she had murdered his only purpose in life. He started to come at her silently, then screaming profanities at the top of his lungs she could not understand.
         Nothing crossed her mind as to what she had done, but no thought had the time when he grabbed her by the throat and began pressing his thumbs deep into the skin of her neck. She gasped for air, arms flailing in an attempt to pry his arms away. Visions popped into her mind of reoccurring dreams she had as a child of sinking under water and simply giving up to drown. She wanted to give up now, to die and escape this life she despised, but she did not dare leave her brother solely with this monster.
         She struggled, but couldn't break free of his deathly grip on her life source. The prolonged anger in the room grew so large it spilled into the remainder of her home, and in an instant, forced itself into her like a blow to the stomach, nearly knocking them both off their feet. It filled her to the brim, seeping through her pores and drenching her skin. The anger was so great she at last gained the strength to shove her stepfather aside vigorously so he stumbled and fell backwards to the foundation. His eyes contained the malice of a demon, even as she rushed towards him, claws out.
         Her mind had no clue what was going on; it was unconscious to the situation because the anger had completely possessed. She flung herself downward, grabbing his rooster neck, strangling him and banging his head against the ground. His skull burst into crimson fireworks and his evil grey eyes rolled slowly back into his head, but she did not stop. It was uncontrollable. Blood sprayed from the wound, mixing with hair and brain matter, splattering the wall in front of them and flooding the entire room.
         Once she took her hands from his throat, and regained control of her mind and body, his head was virtually gone. She did not scream in terror, for she knew it was for the best. She jumped up to leave the gruesome sight and noticed a candle, this time the far right, sputtering violently; shoving the other flames away, and taking its last breath before hissing out in a puff of smoke, leaving only two of the tallest candles to burn and prosper for an eternity.