Spring cleaning is the worst time of year. But, I'm lucky enough that we only do it once in a blue moon. I decided to start in my old room, which I have just moved out of. The room was bare and empty, with a bookshelf in the left hand corner of the room that was stacked high with cluttered junk. As the light glistened through the window, it landed on a beige A4 manila folder. In bold black writing 'Kaye's stories' was displayed across the front. A feeling of anxiety washed over me as I knelt down beside the folder. I picked it up and opened it to the first page. The words 'The Clouds' lept out from the page crashing into my face. I read the first few words and my mother's voice popped into my head “...the cloud floated through the cool breeze...” Her voice was soothing and peaceful, like the sound of the ocean waves lapping on the shore, making me feel relaxed and sleepy. I was gazing at my mother through droopy eyelids. My bed was snug and cosy. For now, I felt safe wrapped up in my cocoon. Her voice seemed to disappear into the distance as I was drifting in and out of consciousness. The sound of her soothing words seemed to become a constant tune, until there was nothing but silence. My sleep was as peaceful as the birds singing on a summer's day. I felt safe and untouchable just like an invisible wall. My vision was no longer black and peaceful. I was in a familiar room lying on a bed. My blankets were gone and my pyjamas were replaced with a white flower dress. I sat up and gazed around the room. It was grey and dull with only a small wooden dressing table and a door on the right. As a man entered through the door, I was seized with an immediate panic. I questioned myself and formed the words “Why! Why am I here again?” But no sound came from my voice. He stood as tall as a Viking ready to hunt his prey. He had short sandy blond hair that sat at his ears. “Hi Kaye,” his voice was friendly and comforting. But, I could feel his words slide down my back like a ragged piece of ice. By now, he was standing at the end of the bed. I nodded my head frantically in desperate need of entertainment. A hard lump of fear formed in my throat. My thoughts were screaming “no ... oh no, not again”. He began to walk round to the side of the bed were I sat. When he moved I saw a familiar figure standing in the doorway. His face was a blur and hard to decipher. My gaze broke when I felt the presence of the man approaching me. He was getting closer by the second. My breathing became rugged and my heart was racing like a Jack Rabbit. I could hear the throb of my own blood pulsing behind my ear. The lump in my throat seemed to increase as he crawled towards me, creating a deep ache in my stomach. His fingertips made contact with my cheek and I felt his hand move in to cup my face. My eyes abruptly opened, like glass being shattered into a thousand shards. Sweat was dripping from my face, along with tears that poured down like rain. I inhaled a deep jagged breath and broke into a frantic high pitched scream. My screams were prolonged with the terror I felt. My heart rate increased and I shook violently from the shock of the recollection. Tears flowed with anger as I clasped the manila folder in two hands. My mind was racing with mixed emotions and questions “Why am I here? How could he do that?” I bashed the folder closed. My knuckles begin to drain to white from clutching the folder with all my strength. It sent shooting pains up my arms. More strength than I knew I had was used to thrust the folder across the room. I wished that the folder would splinter into a thousand pieces as it hit the wall then or burn into a million flakes of ash. I brought my knees up from underneath me. I hugged them close to me as I rocked, back and forth, back and forth like an old isolated rocking chair.