Stub it out - there

Yes, it was an ordinary day. An unusually productive morning too.
The sun streamed in happily, weaving a natty print on the room's moist skin, illuminating all that had been hidden so long. The fresh morning air skipped cheerfully around the corners and took her by the hand. Oh how she loved a playmate!

She kept him close... that skipping young devil as the morning took off for its well deserved siesta. Afternoon rolled in softly, smiling as it lulled her into a familiar dream. Still playing, but a little tired now, she blinked away those dark spots dancing a distracting jig to that piece of music she found increasingly discordant. The day got slower and the walls looked whiter as the light changed outside. Something was trying to creep in through a crack on the window pane. She barely noticed it. Grey haze. A dog howling in a silent street. Hushed voices speaking wordlessly. All too familiar.

The game was getting tougher. It demanded more energy than the cheese and crackers nibbled hours ago, would allow. The skipping was getting mesmeric and the swish of the rope started sending shivers down her spine. It moved furiously now and she knew if she moved an inch closer it would whip off a patch of her. Like a smarting tequila shot.
Tempted now, she leaned forward, through the open window.

She barely had time to notice the storm which was breaking. She had known it would come just like she knew it would leave, when it had worn itself out. The chill grabbed her first as she ran for cover. Fire, she needed fire. Any warmth would do.
Perhaps her playmate would understand. Help her find some. Perhaps skipping was the wrong game. Should she try something new?

The storm broke in spectacular rage. She gazed into its bloodshot eyes and found to her surprise that they didn't scare her. Thin sharp streaks of red sparked around the room. She was cold no more.
The game is afoot, the players are here, the music chimes a welcome flourish. The walls were dancing , the floorboards clapping, the pictures screaming in excitement as they surrendered to the frenzy of a furious night. The rain was yet to come, and play was still on- only no smiles now. The darkness brooded in its stony silence and froze the rope.

The hours gone by blurred into each other as she fumbled for a light trying not to trip over that inert rope which kept flashing through her mind still. She couldn't see ahead, not even a yard. She lay back exhausted calling to the playmate, wishing she could hear that swishing rope again.

And as a grudging moon pulled its feet off the armchair and nodded down at her, all she could see in that soft slurred light was a deep dark patch of painful ash on baby skin. Scarred, scorched,beautiful baby skin that glared back in muted fear.

A delicately etched prophecy too startling for tears.

And now,
The skipping had stopped for good.