Story of the Day: Claustrophobia. Login to Kupika  or  Create a new account 
 

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Story of the Day: Claustrophobia.Category: A series of stories I'll be posting...
Friday, 17 October 2008
12:51:58 AM (GMT)
...All of which leading up to an actual series. Yeahhh, this was a school assignment
about being buried alive. Read it, bitches.
OHHH.
And Lilium, Dante and Leon are all references to characters from ANOTHER story.
Check it. 

Claustrophobia

	Lilium was a happy little girl of ten years old, a girl with absolutely no problems
in her life. Her family was of the typical hallmark genre, a middle-class family
consisting of a stay at home mother, a father in the accounting business, a young
daughter with a creative mind, and an elder son with decent grades. They were
catholic, and lived in a cozy, wooded area, away from the big city of neon and
chrome, though not so far to the point school and work were a long drive. She was an
extremely blessed child, possessing a happy, cozy little family, an intelligent mind,
and a beautiful appearance.
	Lilium was often compared to Mary Magdalene, with her long, curly red hair that hung
at her waist, her alabaster skin which remained completely unblemished (save for her
unusually red cheeks which she believed to be rosacea, though her parents said
otherwise), and her bright, glimmering emerald eyes that shone with a curiosity for
the world. She stood at 5’1”, a somewhat average height for her age, and had a
lovely voice, quite befitting of her personality. Her mother often said her voice
would “feel like silk” if It could be materialized. 
	As for Lilium’s mentality, well, she was a very logical, mature girl for her age.
She wasn’t the kind to blurt things out; she actually would think her words over
carefully in her mind, before voicing them. She listened to her parents and respected
their authority, though on a rare occasion she would stray from their word. She
wasn’t into the whole ‘clique’ or ‘label’ scene, finding it to be a rather
immature, treating others and yourself as though you were a soup can. But this was
all a story for another time.
	It all began with a simple trip to the local ice cream shop, a Friday ritual for the
family. Every Friday, when Lilium and her brother Dante got out of school, their
parents would drive them to Crème Glacée (French for Ice Cream, not very creative,
but it was still an okay name), a cozy little parlor in a less crowded part of the
lower east side of New York. It was a small establishment, just barely noticeable,
located between a CD store and a hardware store. The building was colored pastel
pink, its name written above the door in large, cherry-colored, spiraled letters,
painted on sprinkles adorning each individual letter. Potted plants (anemone being
most prominent) were lined up in front of the building, a gap located in front of the
door, which was colored beige with painted on pictures of bunnies eating ice cream. 
	Upon walking inside, one wouldn’t be very shocked to see that the inside décor
was practically the same as the outside. Same pastel color scheme (the only different
being the pure white marble tables and counter), same frilly text located above the
heads of the smiling employees, offering free samples for their new flavors of ice
cream… It was certainly a nice, happy place to be. Lilium loved Crème Glacée, not
just because of the cute exterior and interior design, but because of their
delicious, creamy soft serve ice cream, French Vanilla being her favorite. Yes, it
was a lovely little outing for a lovely little family. But this story is not a story
of happiness, human triumph, or any of those dandy little story clichés. No, this is
a story about how a simple little polite greeting could cause a ripple effect. 
	On this particular Friday, it was quite breezy, a nice, lukewarm temperature in the
air. Crème Glacée wasn’t too crowded today; only Lilium, her family, a group of
teenage girls, and a few adults here and there were in the shop. Her mother and
father were in their typical clothes- a navy blue business suit, and a knee length
vermilion dress with black spirals on it. Her brother wore loose fitting stormy grey
jeans, and a Slipknot shirt, the words “Pseudo Sacrosanct Perversion” stamped
across the front in gigantic, bold, golden print. Lilium always thought Dante looked
better in lighter colors, but he seemed to move more towards darker, blander ones.
Lilium was wearing pink stockings with a design of juicy red strawberries dancing
about gleefully. Her skirt went down to her knees, and was white with rose prints,
her ruffled blouse matching her skirt. 
	The young girl had been instructed to wait over near the door, and that she did.
Lilium leaned back against it, her arms folded in front of her as her eyes followed a
fly buzzing around noisily. Her parents were currently trying to decide on what
flavor of ice cream they wanted, while Dante attempted to hit on the group of girls,
all of which eyed him like alley cats eyed milk. Lilium rolled her eyes, and prepared
to put her attention back on the fly, only to let out a quiet ‘squeak’ as a hand
appeared before her, catching the bug. She was shocked by the quick movement of his
hand, and mildly amused. Her eyes trailed up to meet the eyes of the man before her,
and cocked her head to the side as she studied his appearance. He was at least a foot
taller than her and extremely slender for a man… Err, if he was even a man, yet. He
looked to be about sixteen, her brother’s age. He wore a tight fitting, black and
white stripped shirt, tight dark blue jeans with a chain wallet hanging loosely from
the material, and he had a cross on a silver chain around his neck. His skin was
extremely pale, possibly paler than the brightest of moons, and it looked even paler
when you compared it to his shaggy black hair that hung messily in his face, nearly
covering his exotic, light blue eyes. He smiled wolfishly at her, and extended his
hand. Upon opening it, the fly flew quickly from his palm. Lilium watched it go,
before turning her attention back to him.
	“Um,” Lilium began hesitantly, knowing that this went against the whole
‘don’t talk to strangers’ rule, “Hello.” She said it for the sake of
politeness, unaware of what she had done by paying any mind to him. The boy looked
her over, before giving a nod of his head, patting her shoulder gently. “Hello
there, Lilium darling. Nice to see some politeness nowadays, the worlds filled with
pigs nowadays. Pigs in their cozy little houses. But those houses are just like
cardboard boxes, false lies, baby. I can blow em down in seconds flat. I’m the big
bad wolf.” Lilium completely ignored the small, rather insane little ramble at the
end of his introduction. She was actually trying to figure out how he knew her name.
“…When did I tell you my name…?” Lilium asked reluctantly, only to be met
with “Right now.” He was a clever one, apparently. 
	Shaking her head slightly, Lilium once again made eye contact, piercing green
meeting faded blue. “So, what’s your name…?” She asked, feeling awkward that
he knew hers, but she didn’t know his. He gave a small laugh, before shrugging his
shoulders. “Leon friend’s m’name, and a friend I will be.” This Leon fellow
(she figured his name was Leon based on his wording) spoke as though he were insane.
Lilium wouldn’t be surprised if he was. She was growing uncomfortable in his
presence… Sighing, Lilium looked past him, and noticed her parents and brother
staring at her quizzically. Lilium went to walk past him, but he blocked her. 
	“Where ya going, babe?” He asked her, almost appearing to be pouting. “My
family is leaving,” she said hurriedly, attempting to push by him. There was a
short pause as their eyes met for the last time that day. “Gotcha.” He said
simply, putting both of his hands in front of him in a peaceful fashion. Lilium
glanced him over one last time, before rushing over to her family, giving a sigh of
relief as they all exited the building together. 
	The car ride was long and uncomfortable for Lilium. Her parents had scolded her
relentlessly about talking to strangers, her brother kissing butt by nodding his head
at every little thing they said. Her ice cream tasted bitter in her mouth, as opposed
to sweet and creamy. She had felt sick, ever since meeting that Leon boy… Most of
the car ride was spent with her holding her stomach in one hand, the other weakly
clutch her ice cream as she rested her head against the car window, growing more and
more agitated by the second with her parent’s incisive nagging. Upon reaching their
driveway, Lilium was the first one out of the car and in the house, making a beeline
for her bedroom. She plopped down upon the cherry blossom pink satin sheets, and
curled up in them. She would fall asleep, and things would be better in the morning.
	Lilium awoke to rather loud, blistering music (she was quite sure it was Better Than
Drugs, based on the chorus ‘You’re better than drugs, your love is like wine’)
that sounded as though it were coming from a car stereo. Upon looking at her Hello
Kitty alarm clock, Lilium sighed in annoyance. It was 6:22 AM. Generally, she and her
family slept in until at least noon. Why would one of them be out in the car? Sitting
up, Lilium lazily rubbed her eyes, before getting to her feet, feeling somewhat
dizzy. She walked to her window (which faced the driveway), and was shocked to see a
black eclipse pulled out in front. The girl walked to the front door, and opened it
slowly, her head poking out of the crack. As she squinted her green eyes, she was
shocked to see the boy from yesterday, the one at Crème Glacée. Leon. 
	“Um,” she called in a somewhat quiet tone, stepping out onto the porch, shutting
the door behind her so as to lessen the chance of waking her parents up, “What are
you doing here…? How did you know where I live…?” As she spoke, he smirked and
stepped out of his car, wearing the same attire from yesterday. Either he hadn’t
changed upon returning home, or he had been driving around since then… Or perhaps,
staking them out? A shudder ran through her lithe body. No, not that last one. “I
know everything about you, Lil’. I know your name, I know where your dad works, and
I know your favorite ice cream and the name of your best friend. Rosalyn Zarinimus,
right? Lives on Bonaparte Avenue, doesn’t she? She’s cute, aside from when she
scrunches up her nose. Then she looks older and less attractive. Get what I’m
saying?” 
	Lilium stared at him in shock, before narrowing her eyes, her hands clenching to
fists. “If you knew everything about me, you would know I hate that nickname.”
“Oops, sorry. People make mistakes, you know?” Leon smirked, before walking
towards her, proceeding to stand in front of her, looming over her fragile form like
the shadow of death. “Want to go for a ride?” “No.” “Why not? We can go to
the meadow. Just you, me, and the butterflies. And we’ll be happy, forever and
ever! You know you want to.” He poked her in the nose, and she was tempted to snap
at his finger. “I’m calling the police.” She said, turning on her heel to face
the door.
	“Like hell you are! Lilium, darling, listen to me, please, listen. You go in
there, and all bets are off. You don’t want me to hurt your parents, do you? Your
nice older brother? Dante?” He grinned, knowing he had her by the way she flinched.
He took her hand, kissing it gently, before meeting her eyes. “Pleasure to have you
on the team, darling.” He laughed darkly, before pulling her towards the car,
knowing she wouldn’t fight back. Lilium cared too much for her family. As he led
her to the car, Lilium knew she was walking the mile, and there was no turning back.

	The drive was even more awkward than the drive with her parents. Most of it was
spent in quiet. Every so often, she would glance over at him, and when he seemed to
be on the verge of glancing over at her, she would turn her attention back to the
front of the car. “Where are we going, anyways…?” She finally asked, wishing to
break the silence. “The road virus leads north.” He replied in a comical tone,
before adding in a more serious one, “You’re going to die, today. You know what
else is going to die?” Before he could continue, she responded in a rather dead
tone, “God.” There was a short pause, before Leon began to chuckle. “That would
be oh-so dramatic, if I believed in God to begin with. Shame, I know.” As he began
to hum some obscure, cheery tune, Lilium felt a part of her shatter inside.
	The car pulled up at a clearing in the forest, where a ditch was dug, flowers laid
out around it. A feeling of apprehension swarmed over Lilium as she got out of the
car and was motioned over to what appeared to be a mahogany coffin. “Get in,
baby-cakes.” He said, nodding his head towards the object. Knowing she didn’t
have a choice in the matter, Lilium got into the coffin, trying to pretend it was all
a dream. However, the intense feeling of pain as the lid was forced onto the coffin
and she felt it being kicked inside of the ditch reminded her that it was no dream.
This was an increasingly harsh reality. 
	A barely audible voice (not due to the voices tone, but rather the coffin lid) could
be heard from outside the casket. “You’ve got at least an hour worth of air in
there. Wanna talk about something to pass the time?” There was silence, before
Lilium gave a faint ‘yes.’ How he managed to hear this, she was unsure, but he
responded with, “Okay, who said, ‘Cannibalism is the highest form of
adoration’?” Lilium seemed to be in thought before saying, “Edgar Allen Poe?”
There was another pause, before she heard, “Nah, I think that guy was a
necrophiliac. Richard Matheson, then?” “Probably.” 
	Eventually, Lilium heard, “Sorry, babe, but I’ve got another hot date. It’s
been fun, y’know? Real grand. I’ll stop by for a visit later on. Did you know my
uncle was a cop? I killed him before taking all of his nifty stuff. Oops, off topic.
See you, sweetie.” Then, a car engine, followed by silence. He must have left. By
now, the air had thinned out in the coffin, and the reality of the situation began to
hit the ten year old hard. “N-No,” she choked out, attempting to work with the
limited space she was given, “Not like this; I can’t d-die like this!” Her
breathing had become labored, reminiscent to that of a dog, and it was hard to draw
in any air, thanks to the limited amount. The heat of the coffin, mixed in with the
long sleeved flannel pajama top and her sweat was causing the coffin to become even
more uncomfortable.
	“Somebody, anybody!” Screamed Lilium, her voice cracking as tears ran freely
down her porcelain colored cheeks, her hand pressing to the lid. Why was it so hard
to lift? He must have been shoveling dirt into the ditch while they chatted. She
began to claw at the lid frantically, only to yelp as she felt a surge of pain in her
fingertips. She squinted her eyes, attempting to see what had happened as she lifted
her hand weakly, and whined at the sight of blood trailing from where her fingernail
had once been. Her vision was blurring and beginning to fade, and a light headed
feeling was most prominent in her body. This was how it ended, apparently. 
	It was an indescribable feeling. It was as though she was choking, and her throat
was closing up, while her lungs began to shrivel. A headache was beginning to form in
her dizzy head, and the dark coffin almost seemed to spin. Her breathing labored as
she struggled to get even the slightest bit of oxygen, her mouth gaping like a fish
out of water. She was beginning to feel extremely tired, and as she closed her eyes,
Lilium was sure this was a sleep she would never awaken from.


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