The Family Room
Standing at the base of the stairs, Charlie feels suffocated by the darkness of the room. The carpeting muffles her steps just as it had years prior, but this time the emptiness of the room feels contrastingly constricting.
Looking around the room, eyes lowered to the carpet, Charlie sees footprints. While probably the steps of people previously touring the house, Charlie is taken with the history that lingers behind one’s physical presence. How long did her steps stay after she left this house for the last time? Were the strands of hair that her Grandma yanked out of her head after every shower — the comb showing no hesitancy in weaving through the tangles — still present in the house? How long has her laughter echoed against the walls, bouncing back and forth, landing in the ears of those that have followed. Charlie is hopelessly lost in her thoughts as she winds her way through the room.
If Bill and the Agent find it odd that Charlie has been silent during the tour so far, they don’t show it. Instead, they look all too comfortable making the small talk that is common at house tours. Charlie finds that Bill is almost too good at making a show of interest in the house. A thought that annoys Charlie after remembering how adamantly he didn’t want to see the house in the first place. Charlie takes this thought as a chance to excuse herself from the room.
Go Outside
Needing to get air, forgetting how long it had been since she had stepped foot outside, Charlie makes her way to the sliding glass doors to the right. It had been anywhere between three hours and two minutes since being outside, but Charlie realized that the fresh air was a needed move. With a yank — the door fighting her plans — Charlie slips outside. Unsure, and uncaring, as to whether or not Bill or the Agent saw her leave.
