by L.H. Cosway
Kean nudged me with his shoulder. “If you want to escape your WS’s birthday party, a couple of us are going to the castle tomorrow night. There’ll be music and booze.”
I stared at him. “You’re inviting me?”
“Sure, you can bring that friend of yours, too. The one with the freckles.”
“Aoife?”
“Yeah. She seems nice. Whenever I see you two, you’re always laughing and joking.”
Whenever he sees us? I remembered how Kean and some of the community school lads would hang around outside the convent after school. He must’ve spotted me walking home through the gates with Aoife. The idea of him noticing me sent a flutter through my belly.
“Okay, I’ll think about it,” I said, then paused, eyeing him. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“I was just wondering why you and your friends stand outside the convent and catcall at the girls?”
Kean appeared a little embarrassed now. “I know it’s stupid. The boys like to go there. I should probably refuse, but I guess I’m afraid of being left out. Does that make me an arsehole?”
“No, I understand,” I said, appreciating his honesty. “It’s hard to withstand peer pressure. Besides, I never hear you catcalling.”
“I just stand there while my friends do it,” he said, looking ashamed as his eyes met mine. “Maybe next time, instead of standing with them I could come and walk you home?”
I grew nervous, fingers digging deeper into the sand. “Why?”
Kean shrugged. “I like you. I think you’re cool.”
He did? “You do?”
Warm laughter. “I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you if I didn’t.”
A pleasant feeling filled my chest. Kean was such a nice boy. So different from Noah. When I spoke to him, I felt safe, content. When I spoke to Noah I felt on edge, my emotions tumultuous and erratic. Unfortunately, there was something far more alluring about the way Noah made me feel compared to Kean. I had to fight against it.
Kean’s dog Sparky, who had been entertaining himself by diving in and out of the water, came barrelling towards us. He dove into Kean’s lap and licked him all over his face.
“Aw, come on, boy. I’m trying to talk to a pretty girl, and you come putting your doggy slobber all over me,” Kean complained.
I giggled and blushed at him calling me pretty. Vee’s harsh criticisms often made me forget that the rest of the world didn’t see me quite how she did.
Sparky turned, suddenly aware of my presence, and gave me a big slobbery lick on the cheek, too. I squeezed my eyes shut at the odd sensation and giggled some more, feeling truly joyous for the first time in who knew how long.
“Don’t worry, I like doggy slobber,” I said as Kean stood up, patting Sparky on the head.
“Well, thank God for that. I better get him home. But will I see you tomorrow at the castle? Around 8pm?”
I was tempted to play it cool and give him a noncommittal answer, but then my reply came out before I could fully think it through. “Okay, see you then.”
Kean smiled wide. “See you, Estella.”
He went, and Sparky followed alongside him as they climbed back up the hill. I watched them go, butterflies filling me up. I’d never been invited to the castle before. It had fallen into disrepair, empty and abandoned, but it was a regular haunt for teenage drinking and parties. The thought of me and Aoife going and hanging out with Kean’s friends, who were considered the most popular and exclusive group in town, was unprecedented.
The sky began to darken. I hoped Vee would be in a drunken stupor by now, that way I could use the house phone to call Aoife and tell her about the party. With a swing in my step, I walked back to the house, my mind full of ideas for what I should wear to the castle. I had a dark blue dress that stopped just shy of the knee. It was the nicest thing I owned.
I stepped through the back door, still lost in my excitement when a loud crash followed by a sharp cry of pain broke through the house. I froze for several long seconds. My good mood fled instantly as fear crept in.
I quietly moved through the kitchen, making sure not to make a sound as I passed through the hallway and to the living room. The door was open, allowing me a view into the room without needing to enter. What I saw filled me with horror.
Sylvia lay on the floor, her wheelchair on its side, like someone had pushed it over causing her to fall out. And there, hovering over her with his back turned to me was Noah.
I didn’t realise how loud my gasp was until he turned around, eyes flashing murderously when he saw me. I started to back away, heart racing.
“Estella, wait,” he said, but I was already gone, feet pumping. I heard him coming after me though. Just as I reached the front door, he grabbed me from behind. I struggled, twisting my body this way and that to escape his grasp. He swore, his breathing ragged as he tried to keep hold of me.
“Will you stop struggling, and just let me explain,” he pleaded, but no way was I going to stop. He’d pushed Sylvia out of her wheelchair and looked like he’d been about to do a lot worse before I showed up. Who knew what he’d do to me if I stopped fighting him.
Vee was right.
I should stay far, far away from Noah.
I couldn’t believe I’d started to think he was a good person. I’d even started to like him. More than like.
I stomped on his foot, and he growled. His arms didn’t loosen. Instead, they tightened, his hard chest pressing flush to my back, his arms around my middle. How the hell was he so strong? I looked down, noticing how close his arm was to my mouth and without thinking I bit down hard into his flesh. His guttural grunt vibrated through me, and finally he let go.
I ran straight up the stairs, not realising my error until I heard him coming after me again.
Why hadn’t I run out the front door? Idiot!
I was too frightened to think straight.
I reached the top of the stairs, knowing there was no escape. I hammered on Vee’s bedroom door, but there was no answer. Then I tried the handle, but it was locked. She was probably passed out drunk in bed. Not that she’d come to my rescue if she were conscious. Vee would sit back and watch as Noah murdered me.
Desperate, I remembered the attic bedroom. Nobody slept up there, but it might be a good place to hide. Besides, I didn’t have any other options at present.
I made a dash up the next flight of stairs that led to the attic, pushed open the door and slammed it shut behind me.
My laboured breathing filled the room as I rested my head against the door, relieved to have gotten away from him. But then I turned around to face the room and wondered if perhaps letting Noah catch me would’ve been less scary.
9.
The attic was decrepit. I never had cause to come up here before, and I didn’t think Vee ever used the room either. Now I knew why.
Black mould grew in the corners of the ceiling, and there was a sink and toilet along one wall, both covered in dirt and limescale. On the other side of the sink was a narrow bed, the antique kind with a metal frame that had long since given way to rust. The flower-patterned sheets were covered in yellow stains. Who knew how long they’d been festering, and next to the bed was a small cot. I took a step closer and saw a ratty, chewed up old teddy bear inside.
I startled when I heard a squeak and grimaced. It sounded like the noise a mouse or a rat would make. Please, please, please don’t let there be rats up here.
My eyes rose to the wall above the bed. Strange markings had been dug into the plaster. I stepped closer, covering my nose because the musty, damp smell was starting to burn my sinuses. As I studied the markings, a chill came over my body. They looked like they’d been made by human fingernails, like someone had dug in so deep they’d left indents on the wall. Some of them were stained with a shade of brown that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than dried blood.
I swallowed thickly, feeling ill.
I couldn’t believe I
’d lived here for four years and never knew the horror show right above my head. What was this place? And who the hell used to sleep up here?
A creak sounded, and my pulse took flight. I looked around, but it was too dark to see where the noise had come from. It was probably the rat again. Or a ghost. I couldn’t tell which was scarier.
All I knew was that I needed to get out of here right this moment. There was a heavy, pressing sense of darkness and misery that made me want to flee. That same darkness permeated the entire house, but it was so much more concentrated up here.
Suddenly, the prospect of going down and facing Noah didn’t seem as scary as hiding out up here all night.
A knock sounded on the door, and I jumped in fright.
“Estella, I know you’re in there. Come out and talk to me,” Noah pleaded. “You’re overreacting.”
I let out a joyless laugh. “I’m overreacting? You just pushed your own mother out of her wheelchair. What kind of psychopath does that?”
I heard a noise, like he was leaning against the door now. “I didn’t push her,” he said, his voice rough. “I heard her cry out and came into the living room. She was already on the floor. I think she was trying to climb out of her wheelchair to sit on the couch but fell over in the process. I was about to pick her up before you came into the room.”
I frowned, unsure if I should believe him. His explanation was simple enough, but it didn’t explain the way he’d been hovering over her, ill intent in the predatory hunch of his shoulders.
“Estella, will you please come out of there,” he went on when I didn’t reply. Did he know how horrible this room was? Was that why he didn’t try to come inside?
I suddenly remembered that Sylvia was still downstairs all by herself. I couldn’t believe I’d just left her there in my hurry to get away from Noah. What was wrong with me?
I looked around the attic, again feeling that sense of unease and dread. “Whose room was this?” I asked, my eyes going to the antique cot. “Did someone have a baby here?”
“Our great-grandmother used it as a nursery,” he replied. “She gave birth to all five of her children in that attic.”
“My God,” I whispered. My eyes returned to those scratches over the bed. Had Noah’s great-grandmother been in so much pain giving birth that she’d dug her nails into the walls? I shuddered. The thought almost put me off having kids for life. Then again, epidurals weren’t exactly readily available for home births, especially in those days. I whispered my next question before I even had time to fully comprehend it. “Did all the babies survive?”
“Only three of them as far as I know,” Noah said.
Well, that explained the negative energy in the room. “That’s awful,” I said quietly, taking in the space once more.
“It was common in those days.” His voice was equally quiet.
A long silence fell before I spoke again. “Swear you didn’t push Sylvia.”
“I swear it,” he replied fervently and without hesitation. “Come down and ask her what happened yourself.”
I guess I could do that. Feeling embarrassed by my overreaction, I turned the handle and opened the door. Noah stood on the other side, his eyes a little wild. I paused to study him a moment. Something wasn’t quite right, but maybe he was just out of sorts from the struggle and chasing me up here.
I stepped out, my arm brushing his as I moved past him. We eyed each other warily, but neither of us spoke.
A wry smile tugged at his lips. “I can’t believe you bit me.”
“You wouldn’t let me go. I didn’t have a choice.”
His eyes blazed. “What a violent delight you are.”
I rubbed my arm and lowered my gaze. “I’m sorry I overreacted.”
“It’s okay,” he said, a smirk in his voice. “I kind of liked it.”
My eyes flicked up, widening at his statement. He tilted his head, eyelids lowered as he reached out to stroke my cheek. I stepped away from his touch and made my way downstairs. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind for him to be touching me like that.
I sensed him close behind when I entered the living room. Sylvia was back in her wheelchair. Noah must’ve come back down to pick her up before coming and talking me out of that creepy attic bedroom. I was sure it was once a bright and airy nursery, but now it was a morbid, mould infested hovel, and I promised myself I’d never step foot in it again so long as I lived here.
I strongly believed all buildings absorbed the energy of the events that took place in them, and that attic had absorbed some seriously messed up vibes. No. Doubt.
I went to Sylvia, kneeling down in front of her and taking her small, frail hands into mine. I loved the feel of her hands, they were always so soft, like angel’s wings.
I met her green eyes, my voice gentle as I asked, “Sylvia, did you fall out of your chair on your own?”
She stared at me, some kind of pain in her expression, as her gaze briefly went to Noah who was standing directly behind me. I felt his presence like it was scoring itself into my back. I didn’t like the flicker of uncertainty before she looked back to me, her voice small when she answered, “Yes.”
I breathed fast, my face hardening. Something about her reply seemed off, and the way Noah was hovering behind me, like a silent threat, made my stomach twist. Was she lying for him? Or was I being overly suspicious? That freaky attic room had messed with my head. I still couldn’t shake the bad feeling it gave me and the lingering unease.
“Okay, well, can I get you anything? A cup of tea, maybe?”
“No, thank you, l-love. Irene will be over soon to put me to bed.” Her voice was so small, barely a whisper.
I rose to stand and gave her shoulder a squeeze before turning and walking by Noah. My head was scrambled, and I really didn’t know what to think. I went into the kitchen and saw through the window it was raining. I cursed under my breath. After what just happened I was of half a mind to go and stay at Aoife’s. I didn’t want to sleep here tonight. For some reason I just didn’t feel safe.
I saw myself in the glass, my face drawn into an intense expression. Then, over my shoulder Noah appeared, and I jolted.
“Why are you standing in the dark?” he asked as he flipped on the light.
I swallowed but didn’t turn around. “I just … um, I think I need to get some air.” I walked to the back door and slipped outside.
“It’s lashing rain out,” Noah called after me, but I didn’t listen. I emerged into the heavy downpour, letting the cold droplets lash my skin. Being out here somehow felt better than being warm and dry inside. I wanted the rain to wash away the bad feeling deep down in my stomach.
A hand touched my shoulder, and I turned quickly. Noah was there, getting soaked along with me. I met his cold, beautiful eyes and wondered for a second if he was even real. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare, one where I couldn’t tell who was good and who was evil.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, wet strands of hair dripping down his forehead. He stood perfectly still, seemingly unbothered by the rain.
“I don’t want to be in that house anymore,” I answered honestly.
“Why not?”
“Because there’s badness in the walls. I can feel it.” There was a flash of something in his eyes, but he didn’t respond. I stared at him intently. “Are you a bad person, Noah?”
He blinked, seeming to think about it, before saying, “Not bad, just malformed.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
Noah’s expression intensified, his focus moving over me before he spoke in a faraway voice. “In the middle of the journey of our life, I came to myself within a dark wood where the straight way was lost.”
“Now you’re talking in riddles,” I said in frustration, gesticulating as I stared up into the dark sky. No stars tonight. Just rain. Why did he have to make me so confused?
“It’s from Dante’s Inferno. It tells the story of his journey through the nine cir
cles of hell.”
“Oh,” I breathed. “I never finished reading that. All the descriptions of hell gave me anxiety.”
“You don’t need to concern yourself with hell, Estella. I’m sure you’ll be granted entrance straight into heaven. I, on the other hand, will likely find myself in the 7th circle.”
I took a few steps away from him. Wasn’t the 7th circle the worst one? I couldn’t remember exactly. Still, it struck me as odd that Noah was so fixated on heaven and hell. This was the second time he’d brought it up, and it didn’t make me feel very comforted.
“Can you go back inside?” I asked. “I want to be alone right now.”
“I thought you believed me when I told you I’m not a danger to you.”
“I don’t know what to believe when it comes to you.”
He stepped towards me, closing the distance between us. He reached out and fingered a wet strand of my hair, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side. “That must be very exhilarating for you.”
“It’s very frightening for me,” I countered angrily, not appreciating how his proximity made my breath quicken in a different way now. His eyes crinkled at the edges, indicating his amusement. Did he think this was some kind of game?
“You don’t find me frightening,” he said, a huskiness in his voice.
My back straightened, all my senses on high alert. “Don’t try to tell me how I feel. I know how I feel.”
“Then you must know how your pulse spikes when I touch you,” he murmured, his knuckles gently brushing my neck. He was right. I hated how right he was. My heartbeat sped. Stupid rabbit heart.
“Yes, because you scare me,” I managed, swallowing tightly.
“Are you sure?” he whispered as he leaned in towards me, breathing me in. “Or is it something else?” Time stood still. I couldn’t be certain whether his lips grazed my earlobe, or if I completely imagined it. Either way, I needed to get away from him right now.
“Get. Off. Me,” I whispered, enunciating each word. Noah froze. Then, he straightened. His eyes were wild again, wild like the waves on a stormy sea. I moved by him and ran back to the house, scurrying through the kitchen and down the hallway to my bedroom. A crack of thunder rang out as I slammed the door shut and turned the key over in the lock. I fell back against the wooden frame, heart in my throat.