by Jeremy J., 17
“Daddy, why can’t I go into the basement,” Alice asked as she lay in her bed. She always wanted to see the noise coming out. As the dad laid right next to her, helping her to fall asleep, he replied, taking a second to give a soft response, “It’s something work related sweetheart, don’t worry about it. If you fall asleep now, we can get ice cream when you’re awake.” Alice’s room was very comfortable, light gray, a picture frame of her and two others like her. A second story where she could just open up her window and let the fresh air come in, if she could. She was just a bit short of reaching towards the opening part. Hearing her dad say “ice cream” must have ignited something inside of Alice as she immediately closed her eyes and went to sleep… and then she heard it again, and again and again. Once again from the basement, it was a noise, that noise. It sounded like a kitten, a good kitten. She wanted to see it. Light steps from the second story stairs to not wake her father up, she reached down to the basement door handle, jumping to grab onto the warm yet moist door handle and shifting it to the left. As Alice tiptoed down the dark basement, she got YANKED with one hand behind her shirt, never seeing the cat. It was Daddy, screaming at her, “NEVER GO DOWN THE BASEMENT EVER AGAIN.” He then handed her the ice cream he promised to her when she was awake. Alice never bothered why there was a girl in the basement making those sounds like a cat or why she had no tongue.
New City, New York
Bridge Ink 