TDV 37: The Deviations

February 27th, 2009 by Sharkchild

The dreams I had while I slept in the unsanctified darkness of the Slanterhorn Estate mansion’s attic were never pleasant. As I stared up into the ancient rafters, letting my body and mind be overcome by sleep’s oblivion, I sensed that the world of twisted things somehow pressed more mercilessly on such sites—places tucked so far away that light had lost its memory of them. If only a needle of day could have penetrated the dense capsule of my home, my heart would have been at ease.

There were no luxuries for me in the attic. There was a stiff, wooden stool, a wooden cabinet of clothes, a small table, a very uncomfortable bed, and two lanterns that were consistently replenished with oil. The rest of the attic was empty; nothing but darkness lived there. Not even the lanterns’ light could reach its far off distances.

My arrangement of items always remained by the iron door in the floor and I was not able to move them had I even wanted to. Each and every piece of furniture was bolted securely into the floorboards. The lanterns as well were bolted down—one upon the cabinet and one upon the table. Without being able to transport light, I never even dared to explore the full extent of the eerie loft.

I often made requests to have my quarters moved elsewhere in the Slanterhorn Estate, but Miss Donna always gave me a variation of these words: “It’s just not right for a boy of your stature to mix with the likes of our lords and ladies. Even Stickles sleeps with me out in the shed. You must simply accept your place.” But I could not accept my place, and I hated the attic.

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