Amelia and the Secret of Stoney Manor (Amelia Series Book 1)

by Michelle Bradshaw

  “What? No, there’s not. There’s only been you. Things in my life are … umm … well, you complicate things … I mean it’s complicated,” I blurted out, knowing I botched every word I had planned to say.

  “So, because I got hurt it proves I’m not strong enough for you or something?” he said, as his hurt turned to anger. “Whatever! Well, let me un-complicate things for you, Amelia. You get what you want; we are done. I love you, but apparently you don’t feel the same way,” he said stomping off.

  “No, wait. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. I do love you. You don’t understand,” I said running after him.

  “Then explain it to me,” he demanded angrily as he threw his hands in the air and spun around to face me.

  “I want to, but I can’t,” I confessed, tears streaming down my face.

  “Whatever, Amelia. I knew moving here I didn’t want any drama, but I let you in anyway. I guess you just solved that problem.” And with that he got in his truck, slammed the door as he threw it into reverse, almost crashing into the big iron fence that lined the property. He stopped for a moment as he screamed in his truck hitting the dash over and over again. That was absolutely all my heart could take, and I collapsed to my knees on the ground as I put my hands to my face and cried.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  MATTHEW

  I DIDN’T EVEN GET TO SAY GOODBYE

  I hated to see her on the ground, crying. I wanted so badly to jump out of my truck and run to my sweet Amelia, sweep her up into my arms, and wipe her tears away, telling her it was just a stupid fight, and I was sorry. No, I wouldn’t do that though. “I’m giving her what she wants,” I proclaimed. What about what you want? came the voice of Jason in my head as it usually did when I was upset. “I wish you were really here, Jason,” I confessed as I got back on the driveway and backed out onto the road. I’m always here, bro, Jason’s voice remarked. “I know, I know,” I murmured. “I wish you could fix this. I don’t understand. She just kept saying, 'It’s complicated.’ Why is a relationship with me so complicated? She doesn’t know about my past. Jessica wouldn’t have contacted her. No, she couldn’t.” I continued to mumble to myself as I pulled up to the flower shop and parked.

  “Maybe she will like these roses,” said a young guy on the sidewalk to his friend.

  “Sure, she’ll take them, she’ll thank you for them, then when she has you in her web, she will rip your heart out and devour it,” I yelled at the guy, ripping the flowers from his hand and throwing them to the ground and stomping on them.

  “Hey pal, those were mine,” retorted the boy.

  “Look dude, I just did you a favor. I saved you from regret later. You can’t be over the age of sixteen, right? Learn this now. Women will break your heart,” I spat.

  “Those were for my mother’s birthday,” he countered angrily.

  “Oh, sorry man. I assumed …”

  “Whatever!” he shouted bitterly.

  “Come on, Joe,” called his friend. “Let’s go somewhere else. This guy is crazy.”

  “So maybe I am!” I hollered as they ran to their little sports car and backed out speedily. “She made me this way!”

  Uncle Bart apparently had heard the commotion and came out to see what was going on. “Come on in, son, and let’s talk,” he insisted holding the door open.

  I begrudgingly went inside so as not to draw more attention to myself. Uncle Bart flipped over the closed sign and pulled down the shade without saying a word. “I loved her. Do you know that? I really loved her. She ripped out my heart and stomped on it. No, better yet … she ripped out my heart, put it in a blender, and pressed puree,” I screamed, hitting the wall with my injured hand, making me wince.

  “Whoa there,” cautioned Uncle Bart. “Your wrist looks bad. We need to get you to a doctor.”

  “I don’t want to see a doctor!” I said loudly, not meaning to yell at him.

  “You need to. I’ll drive,” he said calmly as he led me back to my truck as he had me explain everything that had happened on the way to the hospital.

  Three hours later, we were back at the shop and my left hand and wrist was in a cast. “At least it was just a hairline fracture,” affirmed Uncle Bart. “Could have been worse.”

  “Yeah, well, now I have an excuse to quit working at the Manor,” I announced as Uncle Bart locked the door back.

  “I’m sorry. What was that?” he asked facing me.

  “I said now I have an excuse to quit working at the Manor,” I repeated.

  “I thought that’s what I heard,” he paused for a moment. “I’m not going to let you quit.”

  “I just can’t be around her. It hurts too much,” I explained.

  “I said, I’m not going to let you quit,” he reiterated calmly. “You may not regret it today or even tomorrow, but one day you will wake up, full of regret, and there will be nothing you can do it to change that. You weren’t raised to be a quitter. I’m not going let you quit.” And with that he walked out of the room of the shop and down the hallway.

  I wanted to follow him, I really did, but I decided to let him be on his own for a while. I know he was giving me advice, but it sounded like he had gone through something in life to make him feel that way. He needed time to himself, as did I.

  I walked down the hallway and to my room. It was a relatively boring room. Pale white walls, no curtains, and neutral colored carpet. Uncle Bart had always told me I could fix it up the way I wanted to, but until Amelia, I didn’t really like living here. I had actually begun to enjoy it and was planning on changing the room, but now that feeling was gone. So, I guess the room would stay like it was. I had never really unpacked until she stole my heart, so it was good the boxes were finally gone.

  I don’t know if it had hurt Uncle Bart, my unhappiness being here I mean, but until she entered my life, I had never really been able to get over my parents’ death, which was the reason why I moved here in the first place. I sat down on my bed as I began to think back to the day my whole life changed. I can remember it like it was yesterday.

  I had just gotten home from hanging out with Jason. Jessica, my ex, and I had just broken up a couple weeks before that. It was friends of the family who told me what had happened. They informed me they were driving by and saw my parents’ car wrapped around a tree and stopped to help. I remember thinking it wasn’t happening … that it was just a dream … a nightmare … that I would wake up soon. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. They explained their bodies were so mangled that my parents wouldn’t have wanted me to see them that way. No funeral. Nothing. I was quickly sent away to live with Uncle Bart. It was raining the day he picked me up from the airport and brought me to Bella Mia. After that, I shut down. I froze up. I just stayed in my room, day after day, trying to grieve but not really being able to. Until Amelia, I had never released those emotions and let myself cry. Uncle Bart had been trying to help me long before I began to work at the Manor. I don’t know how she helped, she just did. We just clicked. Maybe it was the fact she was an orphan too. I know she has her grandmother, and Ms. Matilda is great, but her dad and mom are gone like mine. So, I guess in a way, I thought she is living her life, why can’t I? I’d never tell Jason this, but after the first day I worked at the Manor, I came back to my room and was finally able to cry … finally able to say goodbye. I guess the problem was I never liked to show my emotions before, and Amelia helped me to do that. “Man, that girl can drive me so crazy sometimes,” I admitted, laughing a hollow laugh while staring up at the pale, white ceiling. “I really love her, though,” I whispered. I was determined to give her what she wanted no matter how much it felt like it was killing me inside. “I’ll just go to work at the Manor and act like it is not bothering me tomorrow,” I, reassuring myself that I could handle it as I finally drifted off to sleep.

  My dreams were a sea of emotions. Happy times with Amelia, followed by arguments and apologies, and finally ending with the breakup. The dream froze on the scene of
her crying on her knees in the yard.

  “Amelia!” I screamed, running from the tree that I had been hiding behind. She stood up as everything turned black, and she was suddenly in a white dress, dancing around a stage as a single spotlight shown on her. She looked so happy for a moment, before an evil and sinister laugh that I had never heard before erupted from the shadows and seemed to frighten her. Her dress quickly turned to crimson red as she fell to her knees, sobbing, before all went black.

  Sobbing and the whispers of, “Help me, Matthew,” were all that could be heard.

  “What’s wrong?” I shouted, trying to run through the dark to find her, but it was like trying to make your way through a thick, black fog. I didn’t know where I was anymore or where she was. I could still hear her crying though, as she repeated over and over, “Help me, Matthew.” “I can’t until you tell me what’s wrong. Why can’t I find you?” I hollered, thrashing through the sea of darkness.

  “It’s complicated,” she murmured, then all went silent.

  “Amelia,” I called. Nothing. “Amelia!” I called louder. Nothing again. “Amelia!” I yelled once more before springing straight up in bed, waking myself.

  “Amelia,” I mumbled. I would never tell Jason this either, but I began to cry. Big, sloppy, wet tears as if I was mourning her death and not just the death of a relationship. I guess that’s what it felt like to me, though. I had never really loved anyone before her, so I guess that part of myself died when the relationship did.

  For the rest of the night, I tossed and turned and tried to sleep and begged the morning to come and rescue me from this misery. It eventually did come, just not as fast I as needed it to. Even in my zombie-like state of mind, I was up and dressed before my alarm even went off. I then rushed through breakfast, spoke hello to Uncle Bart, and jumped in my truck, out of habit mainly. I even said, “Good morning,” to the little group of elderly ladies who liked to congregate on the sidewalk of the flower shop in the mornings, surprising them all.

  “What a nice young man,” said one of them.

  “Yes, but he is going to that house again,” remarked another. I had gotten used to the gossip about my … umm … I mean, Amelia’s family and backed out of the parking spot, without another word, and headed to the Manor. Though the distance to the house wasn’t too far from the shop, I normally listened to the radio. Not this time. The silence felt deafening, but I needed it so I could get my head on straight for work. I was determined to be polite and courteous to everyone because that is the right thing to do.

  As I pulled up to the Manor, I wanted so bad to see her sitting in the rocking chair with a big smile, as if saying yesterday was just a bad dream, but she wasn’t there. I got out of the truck, shut the door quietly, and walked up to the door. As I was about to knock, the door opened and out stepped Ms. Matilda. She looked worse than she did yesterday, which saddened me. In my mind, it felt like she was starting to wither away.

  “Are you alright?” I asked her. She took a long breath before saying, “I have had better days than this, but this too shall pass,” she responded, frowning. Before I could speak again she added, “I know about the breakup. You will understand if Amelia is not up to seeing you today.” I felt confused, but guess I understood at the same time. It probably was easier for her this way, but she wanted this, right? She continued, “She has not left her room this morning. I took her some breakfast, but could not get her to eat anything. Do not tell her I told you this, but she has not stopped crying since yesterday.”

  For a person who wanted to breakup, she sure wasn’t handling it well, I thought. Oh well. I was determined to focus on my work today. Before the bird attack, I had just finished pressure washing the whole house. Even with a broken wrist, I was determined to start painting. “I guess I’ll get to it then,” I said quietly.

  “All right. I might go for a walk in the woods later, but until then if you need me, I will be in the house.”

  “Okay,” I noted as I began to walk off.

  “Matthew,” she uttered, putting one hand to her face, as if deciding whether to continue or not. “She does still love you. It’s just …”

  “Complicated,” I said before she could finish, even though I still didn’t understand why. She nodded her head and turned to go back inside as I walked down the steps and to the back of the house.

  CHAPTER THRITY FIVE

  MATTHEW

  THE MAN IN THE MIRROR

  I was an absolute mess inside today. Normally, I hummed the song I wrote for Amelia, but today it took all I had just to concentrate on work. After a couple hours or so, I had a good portion of the house done and had a good rhythm for painting with one hand until I saw her looking out of her window. She looked so unhappy. I waved to be polite, even though I would rather have rushed up to her room and held her in my arms. She frowned, but waved back, and quickly disappeared from sight. I tried to readjust myself on the top of the ladder to see if I could catch another glimpse of her and, in doing so, knocked off the remaining paint.

  “Man!” I shouted, reluctantly climbing down the ladder again. I had gone through several cans of white paint already and that was the end of it. “I guess I’ll go see if Ms. Matilda would like me to go buy some more,” I said. I didn’t really know the area well enough to know where I could buy paint. “Shouldn’t be a problem,” I assured myself. As I walked through the front door, it felt different this time. It was too quiet. Normally, there would be something going on, but today, nothing.

  “Ms. Matilda?” I called, but no answer. I began walking down the hallway, calling her name. I wasn’t about to bother Amelia, so I decided to look for her. “Ms. Matilda?” I called again. “She’s not in the dining room,” I murmured as I continued to search. “Ms. Matilda?” I repeated. “She’s not in the kitchen,” I noted. “Ms. Matilda, are you in the sitting room?” I asked as I walked to the room. “Not in here. Maybe she’s in her room,” I said. I had never been in her room before, but now it was greatly concerning me that I couldn’t find her. After all, she hadn’t been feeling well and, even though Amelia and I were no longer together, I still cared for them both. “Ms. Matilda, I don’t mean to disturb you. I just wanted to see if you were all right,” I explained as I walked to the back of the house to her room. “We are out of paint, and I needed to see if you wanted me to get some more.” My voice trailed off as I reached her door. I saw a weird glowing light coming from inside under the door and could hear something rattling. My concern began to grow with each moment that passed. “Ms. Matilda. Are you all right?” I asked as I knocked on the door, causing it to creak open slightly. “Umm,” I uttered, clearing my throat. “Ms. Matilda. Don’t be alarmed. I’m coming in. I have to know if you are okay.”

  As I opened the door, I saw an antique, ancient looking mirror. It continued to glow and shake almost as if it was beckoning me to it. “What is up with this thing?” I asked. As I touched the center of the mirror to examine it closer, a thousand little ripples like that of water went dancing in every direction. “Whoa!” I exclaimed.

  “Is someone there?” said a frail sounding man’s voice in the shadows.

  “This is crazy,” I mumbled to myself. “Uh, yeah, I’m Matthew. Who are you?”

  “My name is Theodoric, although most call me The Darkness.” he replied gently.

  “Interesting name,” I blurted out without thinking. “Sorry.”

  “That’s all right. Will you please come closer to the mirror so I can get a better look at you?”

  “I guess,” I responded, moving closer. “I can’t see you.” Touching my face to the glass, I tried to peep into the mirror. All of a sudden dark, red eyes glowed before mine. It felt as if they were staring into my very soul.

  “You will not move,” commanded The Darkness, full of strength all of a sudden. “You will continue to stare into my eyes.” I tried to break away from his glare, but somehow he held me there, as if by magic. At that point, it felt like my mind was no longer my
own. “You will not fight what I have to say. You will accept it and you will do it. You will obey,” he demanded.

  “I will obey,” I mimicked like a puppet.

  “There is a portal to where I live in the pond near the garden outside,” he informed me.

  “Portal … pond … garden. Got it,” I said subconsciously.

  “You will bring Amelia there.”

  “Amelia,” I echoed as the very essence of myself began to fight back against this power he had over me.

  “Be still! Don’t fight it!” he ordered.

  “I told you it wouldn’t work,” came the voice of another man. “His will is too strong.”

  “Be quiet Cassius,” he hissed. “Focus!” he yelled to me, causing the control he had over me to take root once again. “Now, listen here, lad. I’m just trying to save Amelia.”

  “Save her?” I probed as my eyes began to glaze over.

  “You’ve got him now,” proclaimed Cassius.

  He ignored him and continued to speak, “She is my niece, and I need you to bring her to me to rescue her from the evil witch she is living with.”

  “Ms. Matilda?” I asked almost animatronic.

  “Yes … she killed her father and put a spell on poor Amelia to keep her there. She’s made that poor little child her slave.”

  “Slave?” I parroted.

  “Amelia’s poor mother has been here with me waiting for someone to rescue her,” he divulged. “Can you rescue her? Will you be her hero?”

  “Hero?” I mimicked.

  “Yes, lad. She would love you forever if you saved her. Her grandmother is the reason you two broke up. Shame on that evil woman breaking up such a happy couple. Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

  “Love me?” I asked.

  “Good. Good. You will remember everything said here today, but you will act as if nothing happened. I will tell you when the time is right to bring, I mean, rescue, Amelia. Do you understand all this?” he said.