by Tiana Laveen
“Well, how do we stop this? How do we make her stop this and get her to move on?”
“Bijou, you’ve coddled your sister much too long. She may have been crazy, but she knew right from wrong. I can’t do it, I can’t stop her – it will have to be you and Mark. It’s time for a showdown, niece. This should have happened in life, so that there would be no confusion. You should have put your foot down, drawn a line in the sand. She mistook your kindness for weakness. She manipulated you, toyed with your sympathies.”
Clarabelle stood, opened up a kitchen cabinet and began to slowly pull out various bottles.
“I’m going to tell you two exactly what to do, and you need to follow my instructions to the letter. Don’t deviate, no matter how bad it gets. If you two want to be together…and Mark, if you want her out of your life…this will have to happen just how I say it’s s’pose to. Now listen carefully…”
* * *
Seven days later on the full moon…
Mark held Bijou tightly in his arms while they lie on his couch. The television reflected light on their faces. The chill in the room became stronger. He looked over at the clock – two minutes after three in the morning. He’d watched Bijou sleep briefly, two comforters wrapped around her body. He slowly rubbed her arm up and down, staring at the T.V. while his brain worked overtime. He kissed the top of her head, feeling her shake every now and again.
‘Baby, it’s time,” he whispered.
Bijou rose from his warm grasp and looked around semi-dazed as she rubbed her sleepy eyes. He picked her up and carried her up the steps. The journey felt long and laborious to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nestled her head into his chest as he walked the upstairs hallway into his large bedroom that now felt like they were entering Antarctica. Cool air blew their hair around as the nightstand lamp flickered on and off. Bijou kept her eyes closed.
“It’s going to be OK,” he assured as he placed her gently down onto the bed.
He reached into the nightstand and removed a bag of sea salt. He walked over to the windows, one after the other, and spread the salt all along the sills. He then walked to the bedroom door, and repeated the action. He looked briefly over his shoulder at Bijou, who was now seemingly fully alert as she clutched the comforters closer to her body, her teeth chattering. He placed the salt by the doors in the room, forming a barrier. Next, he made sure he still had his flashlight hooked to his jeans pocket. He then lit a bundle of tightly rolled fresh sage, watched it burn between his thumb and forefinger for a few seconds, then walked around the room saying prayers he’d memorized as a child as the scent filled the room. Per Clarabelle’s instructions, he was spiritually pre-cleaning the room, making it uncomfortable for Rhine. This would be no social visit – this was strictly business.
Mark took a deep breath. Several minutes passed as he braced himself for the next feat. He grabbed the salt once more and formed a small, thick white circle that he could easily stand inside. Once it was complete, he stepped within it, closed his eyes and said a silent prayer. In the dancing light, he looked over his shoulder at Bijou, who stared at him, motionless. He turned back around and began to speak.
“Rhine, I know you’re here.” Immediately, the bedroom door flew open, brutally slamming against the wall. It slammed shut again, then opened, repeating this series of disturbing imagery several times. He watched, then turned back toward Bijou who was in the same frozen position. “I need you to listen to me. Everything I say to you, I mean,” he yelled over the thumping, crashing noise. “I am not asking, I am telling you, to move on. This is not your home and I am not your man. I do not love you, Rhine.”
Just then, the large bedroom window’s curtains spread open slowly, blowing as if a strong natural current of air were moving them to and fro. The window flew open, exposing a pitch night with an all too familiar owl sitting on his perch. It looked over and took off into the air, hooting loudly, its wings seemingly unable to move as fast as his bird body would allow. Bijou’s hand covered her mouth and she let out a muffled scream when items were tossed about in the air.
“You can fling things around and get angry. It won’t change anything. Your time is over. I don’t belong to you. Get out of my house, leave me and your sister alone!” He looked over his shoulder once more at Bijou as his hair blew in wild directions, his shirt fanning his skin from the brisk, cool wind that whipped past in all directions. “I belong to Bijou.”
Bijou and he met eyes, communicating what needed to be said, exactly how it should be stated.
“I love her.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the lights flickered more violently, the bedroom door swung violently open and shut, and the closet shook, as if someone were on the other side, desperate to be set free, to get out and escape some invisible terror. Mark felt a strong presence as the scent of perfume wafted past him. A large shadow began to form on the wall, growing taller and wider with each glimpse of light from the now toppled over lamp that rolled around on the wooden floor, to and fro.
“Go away and never come back, Rhine!” he commanded as he looked around the room, keeping in the circle. Clarabelle’s words rang through his mind.
Whatever you do, once you put that salt ’round your feet, don’t leave that circle. She will be mad, real mad and that circle will help protect you from any attacks.
Mark put his hand up to his face as he tried to block the wind that was now intensifying. He turned back towards Bijou and saw her facial expression go from alarm to fear to possibly anger. She stared unblinking at the crawling shadow. Mark turned back towards the wall and soon discovered that Rhine’s image had tripled in a matter of seconds. Now, the shadow of a woman, built much like Bijou, canvassed the walls, casting unnatural darkness everywhere it moved. The odor of sulfur and soot seemed to fill the air, dragging Mark down into a pit of biliousness. He wavered; feeling light headed, but held on for dear life. He looked back towards Bijou and nodded, then motioned to her with his hand.
* * *
And now, here came the bait…
Bijou thrust the covers off of her trembling body. She stood beside the bed, her heart pounding. Even in the cool air, she felt herself having hot flashes, as if a pirouetting flame feathered her skin. She turned towards Mark. Their eyes locked. Then she confidently made her way across the room, holding on only to her tiny drop of faith as she approached the far right wall. She was ready. She was able. It was time.
“Do it, Bijou, you can do this!” Mark hollered through the loud noise of the wind blowing in the room, moving papers and objects all about the vast area. Bijou shot him a glance, then traced the room with her eyes.
“Rhine, I’m your sister, I love you, but this is it!” Her fingers gripped the side of a sturdy antique oak dresser as the whirlwind of gusty air increased. The shadow faded, but the presence was very much still alive, invading the space in time, swallowing comfort and peace as each second passed.
“I deserve to have a life, it’s my turn!” Bijou thumped her finger on her sweater covered chest. “You have to leave. You have to go to your new home; you don’t live here with us anymore!” Bijou’s eyes bulged.
Mark hollered out, “No!” as Bijou was suddenly jerked into the air.
* * *
Bijou thrashed about, floating, her legs moving frantically as she clawed at her throat and struggled in the cool darkness while books, papers and music CDs flew past her in all directions. Something seemed to have her by the neck, spinning her around in thin air like a warped record. She managed to focus for a few moments as her body see-sawed and spun, devil-piloted.
Then she fought past her fears and looked into the eyes of the now true to form image of her sister – height, weight were all exact. Bijou’s eyes brimmed with hot, angry tears as the two sisters locked perceptiveness. Still blanketed in sooty darkness, Rhine jerked about, her spirit fully erect and in three dimensional form. She was black static dotted with blues and silver flecks, like a darkened televi
sion screen with nothing on in particular. Rhine’s eyes burned; she had flames dancing in place of pupils. Long, sooty shadow strands of hair bellowed out across the room like colossal, ropey octopus tentacles as she took Bijou higher and higher towards the domed tray ceiling.
Mark yelled out once more, catching Bijou’s attention, snapping her temporarily out of the fiendish experience. The constrictive hold that Rhine had on her caused her extreme physical pain – then, there was release. Finally, she could breathe. She gasped for air and peered at Mark.
“Don’t leave the circle, Mark! Please!”
She quickly looked back towards her sister; a menacing expression enveloped her face. Standing strong, Bijou shrieked and pointed.
“Rhine! Get out! Get out of my life! Get out of Mark’s life. Leave us alone!”
She felt her heart beating profoundly, so much so, she gripped her pain wrenched chest. “You can’t have him! You’re dead and…”
She felt a sting in her cheek. Her hand flew there and she felt wetness. She looked at it. Blood. A red stripe unexpectedly appeared across her cheek, blood emerged, then bled from the cut in thin, crimson trickles. Her long hair blowing wildly, she gritted her teeth then sneered. She shot Mark a glance, and saw the desperate look in his eyes. He seemed to be asking for permission, to come to her rescue. She knew he was talking himself into following Aunt Clarabelle’s instructions and she knew that seeing her in the throes of the violent fight of her life made that request a daunting task. He had to, though; if he didn’t, no matter how much he wanted to help her, he could jeopardize everything. They both had to play their parts. Then, Bijou’s heart dropped as she watched him straighten. His face revealed his intentions.
“I’m coming!” he blurted, as he sprinted towards her, disrupting the field of salt with his racing feet.
“No!” Bijou snapped, her voice booming throughout the room.
With Bijou still suspended in the air, Rhine turned her neck. A loud groan filled the room as Rhine swiftly raced towards him like a dark cloud of wasps.
“Go back, Mark! Hurry!”
Mark stopped in his tracks, looked at the darkened mass approaching him and strove back to the salt circle. Rhine hovered right outside of it, seemingly itching to rip him to shreds as her flame filled eyes lowered upon him. Bijou called out, trying to grasp her attention once again.
“You want to fight? Let’s go!”
A bright light suddenly filled the room as the shadowy figure grew with anger and raced across the room, back and forth. Finally, Rhine stopped her angry outbursts and moved back towards Bijou, causing first flashes of light then brisk, cool, stunning breezes to cut like a knife through the sea of disorder and overturned furniture.
Rhine grabbed her sister from the floating position and threw her against the wall. Bijou slid down into a pool of pain and panic, trying to keep conscious as sparks of silver floated past her, threatening to render her cataleptic. Bijou rubbed the back of her aching head, groaned and lifted her eyes to her sister, who was now shifting from foot to foot as if the final battle was about to commence.
“If you love me,” she whispered. “If you remember the bond we had, the affection and devotion I showed you, Rhine…you’ll stop this. Rhine, this is wrong…” The words were clear, but low – meaningfully simple.
In a loud voice, as if it were from a scratchy old tape recording over a loud intercom speaker, Rhine slumped forward and fell to her shadowy knees. The long strands of her hair looked like a cloak around her black shoulders.
“But, he spoke to me so sweetly. He took such good care of me. He touched me, so lovingly, and said I was beautiful…I want him…but…he wants you…”
Though the volume exceeded any range of comfort, the sorrow in her tone was evident. The room became dizzying, and Bijou was overcome with her sister’s sadness; the deepest valleys of emotional dysfunction, cavernous depression and twisted anxiety filled her core and stabbed her with no warning, like air to a cavity. She could feel the pain Rhine had been in, struggling with mental illness all of her life. It came through her – allowing her to still be aware of what was happening, but giving her a taste of the cruel circus that existed within her dear, disturbed sibling. At that moment, Bijou screamed out and cried. She turned and saw Mark peering at her; his light eyes grew as he stared at the scene playing out.
“I know you’re hurt, Rhine. But for once in your life, you will be free of that. If you cross over, you will be at peace. You saved a little girl, dear sister. You gave your life for hers. That’s what happened. You are not here with me, living and breathing, any longer. Rhine…you are dead.”
The shadowy figure stepped back from Bijou, her eyes turned cool. Though not able to make out her complete expression, Bijou knew that her sister hadn’t known. The room instantaneously changed. The chill curled up and dried, leaving summery warmth. The revelation stopped everything. Suddenly, the light ceased to flicker and the sheer curtains no longer blew and moved about. The spinning of the room slowed until it was at a crawl. Bijou rubbed her sore throat and slid back up the wall, keeping her eyes steady on her sister’s tormented soul.
Bijou scrambled to her feet, bracing herself against the wall, as she watched her sister take another shaky step back, almost stumbling. The animated shadowy figure continued to take several steps back. Suddenly, music began to play, only it sounded as if it were being played in reverse. The room began to pick up itself; overturned lamps, rugs, disturbed books, blankets, and pictures flew softly in the air, going to their original posts. Rhine turned to Mark, stopped moving briefly, and then continued toward the bedroom door until she faded away…
* * *
After several seconds passed, Mark ran towards Rhine and grabbed her, hugging her so tightly she could barely breathe. He kissed the top of her head, showering her in love and affection, his sweaty chest pressed firmly into her quivering body.
“Are you OK?” He lowered his face to hers and ran his finger lightly along the cut on her cheek. “We better get you cleaned up.” He carried her into the bathroom and he prepared to run her a bath. Bijou said not one word. He could see she was in a state of shock as she stared off into space.
“It’s over now, Bijou. You’re finally free.”
* * *
“How long is this going to take, baby? The movie starts soon.” He glanced down at his watch and leaned over the counter. “Date prisa! Vamos, mi amor! Dale! Dale!”
“Huh?” Bijou looked over her shoulder at him in the darkroom. “You know I’m not fluent in Spanish. Now, say something in French and we’ll be working with something.” She laughed as she placed more photos in envelopes to display the following day in the main studio lobby.
“Never mind.” He moved around the counter that separated them and stood directly behind her, held her close to his body, playfully immersed his face in her wild, soft hair. “We’re not going to make it. It’s too late – you know that, right? We’re always late because of you.”
“I’m almost done.” She placed more photos in an envelope, not leaving his embrace. “Just give me a…Ahhh!”
She straightened, pushing firmly into him, squeezing her butt cheeks together as he swiftly swept his hand up her black skirt from behind, forcing her to twist and turn in his palm. He didn’t let go. It didn’t take long before she leaned back into him, the back of her head sliding roughly up and down his chest as his fingers glided back and forth over her thin, sheer silver and black satin panties.
He whispered in her ear, smiling wide. “Is everyone gone for the day? It’s just you and me, right? Sólo nosotros?”
“Mmm hmmm,” she murmured as she leaned into him even harder.
She stumbled a little as though weak at the knees, then bent down, pushing her ass into him as he worked his fingers firmly against her soaking-wet pussy. He groaned.
“Mmm.”
His lips brushed against her ear as he ushered her towards the darkroom counter. Surveying the space, he took n
otice of a clear area and gently leaned her against it, yanked her skirt up and pushed his firm pelvis into her ass. Grinding, keeping his hand steady, he explored inside her panties with his hand, making her shudder and quake as she moaned right along with him. He sucked hard on the side of her neck, while sliding anxiously up and down her body. Unable to wait any longer, he knocked her legs apart, pulled back from her and unzipped his pants.
“Shit,” he whispered when he felt her extreme wetness on his fingers.
Her uncontrollable shaking excited him; he knew what she was anticipating…wanting…needing. Grabbing her gently around the neck, he held her secure as he pushed upward inside her. Her scream rang out as he thrust in and out her, his groin bumping into her soft, fleshy rounded ass with all of his might. He reached forward, gripped the edge of the counter, their hands on top of one another, as he continued to rock, lunge and thrust with great determination. She looked over her shoulder at him. He caught her smile as he pushed his fingers roughly through her hair, bended her further on the counter, her breasts flattened on the coolness of the granite as he went in harder, deeper, and stronger. He held onto her hips, losing himself in the goodness of her secure, wet, inviting and so delicious fit. She sighed loudly as he moved just how he liked it. He grunted, angling himself upward, hitting her so deeply, there was nowhere else to go.
“Oh, shit! My God!”
“Goddamn it, Bijou! Mmm!” he slurred as he fell down upon her back, twisting and grinding his hips, keeping his feet planted firmly as he continued to move aggressively. He straightened and held tighter onto her hips.