Chapter Twenty
In the days that followed, my depression about the situation deepened. It was hard calling my friends back home to tell them I wouldn’t be coming home. I was still holding out hope that my parents might change their minds. Katie, Nat, and Becky were happy to hear I would be registering for Lee High School this year. I couldn’t believe my parents were making me attend the same school as Steven. Katie confirmed the rumor about me attacking Steven had made its way around Lee and surrounding towns. Everyone thought I did it, but didn’t know why. I was grateful to Steven for keeping the details of that night, including the reason we fought, to himself.
My parents didn’t force me see a psychiatrist as they had threatened. Instead, I spent the rest of the summer with grandpa. We worked outside everyday on his little farm. We fixed his tractor engine, mowed the fields, fertilized his garden, and fished in the tank. It was fun going out on the boat and fishing with live bait. It was gross at first, but I got used to it. We had long talks on the boat sometimes. Grandpa told me about his parents and how tough his dad was on him. This is the man who genuinely walked to school in the snow, barefoot, and without a jacket for at least a mile. We never spoke of the attack at my party and grandpa never asked about it. However, that didn’t stop me from asking about Michael.
Grandpa and I were fishing in the tank, far away from my parents, when I said, “I haven’t seen aunt Rachel in a while. Is she doing alright?”
“Yep, she took the kids on a little vacation.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I wonder when they’ll be back.”
“Not for a while, I reckon.” Grandpa said with a stern voice.
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One day, I got up early and took grandpa’s truck out for a drive. I knew exactly where I wanted to go. I drove to the house from the bust dream. I pulled in front of the house and locked truck before I approached it. This house has been in my thoughts since I found it. I felt answers waited for me here.
With a heaping helping of trepidation, I approached the porch. Nothing had changed. Dust and cobwebs dominated the chairs, and broken potted plants littered the front. I looked for signs of life in the front window and saw no one. This time, I turned the handle and opened the door. It was surprisingly unlocked. The air was clean and the walls weren’t dirty. Spectacular hardwood floors ran through the entryway and into the living room. Old oil pictures of fruit and open fields hung on the walls. The lights didn’t work when I clicked the switch on. Thank goodness the sun was out. The floors groaned as I walked across the entryway, giving my presence away to anyone living here. I listened closely to sounds of life but heard none. No footsteps or shouts of curiosity came from the rooms.
The living room looked right out of a scary movie. The curtains were torn and dirty. They were moving rapidly from to the dry, hot wind blowing through the window. The furniture was brown with dirt and torn from wear. Moving closer, I could tell the color was once bright blue. I brushed the couch with my hands and dust flew everywhere. I coughed the dust out of my lungs and realized no one has been in this house for a long time, however, the entryway was clean. Why would the entry be clean, but the rest of the house filthy? I went into the kitchen to find it in similar dirty conditions. As far as I could tell, the whole downstairs was dirty except for that one room.
While I explored the house, the clouds rolled in and the sky became dark as night. I was in the library when I heard the thunder crash. The owner of this house had an extensive hardbound book collection of the classics and I was lost in the titles. The room was naturally dark so I lit a kerosene lamp to find my way around. It was a massive room with three floors. A circular stairway led the way to rows and rows of books. The room was charming with the iron stairs, cherry wood bookshelves, round archways, and old fashion torch style wall lamps. A beautiful glass mosaic of angels and devils lined the ceiling. I took a few minutes to admire the different colors and the intense detail of the piece. An angel was being thrown into hell by a demon. The anguish on the angel’s face felt more real than it should.
The crash of thunder made me jump and I almost dropped the lamp. I took a deep breath as I put my hand to my heart. The lightning flashed through the sky and lit the room with a white light. The colors from the glass ceiling mosaic ran wild across the bookcases and walls. I looked up and only saw the angel being thrown into hell. There were other demons in the sky now, taking the angel down with them. She screamed and pleaded for anyone to help her, but only the laughing, wicked demon above her was there to shove her down further. He pushed with all his might to fight this woman and be rid of her. The clouds turned red, and rolled with thunder and lightning, just like the storm outside. I closed my eyes tightly and opened them again hoping to find the ceiling back to normal. When I opened my eyes, the angel was fought hard, but with too many against her, she succumbed to their evil and was carted to their world. Her screams came alive and echoed through the massive library.
I held back my screams as I ran from the room. I stopped in the hallway. I left the lamp on the table. I had to turn around and get it, I can’t see without it. I spun around and quickly saw the lamp on the desk to the far left. Three desks filled the middle of the room. I had to pass the middle desk and get to the end of the farthest one. Little tears escaped my eyes as I ran into the room. I bumped my hip into the corner of the middle desk. I held back my cry of pain as I grabbed the light. Careful not to look up, I hurried back to the doorway. I was almost there when the lightning lit the room again. I felt a hand reach for me. I couldn’t see it, but I knew it was there. Fear literally ran up my spine and I screamed as I leapt for the doorway. I turned right, hoping it was the right direction.
I made a quick decision to go left at the next turn and fell into the living room. I didn’t see a step and tripped as I lost my balance. It wasn’t as dark as the study, but there were large patches of shadows in the corners. I stopped to take a second to remember which arch lead the way out. A bump to my right drew my attention. I looked quickly and thought I saw a shadow move. Squinting my eyes, I looked closer. The torn curtains flapped loudly as I tried to see clearly.
Out of blackness came eyes.
Someone was coming closer, out of the shadows. Their silhouette became clearer as it came out of the darkness. I wanted to run, but something made me keep looking. I thought I recognized the familiar orange color that emanated from the corner. Suddenly, a streak of pure fear once again took hold of me. I spun around and ran through the first arch I saw. Thank goodness it was the right one. I ran through the entryway and jerked the door open. I slammed it shut behind me. I heard something inside the house howl. It was an immense and deep cry that put a fire under my feet. I screamed again and dived for the door of the truck.
Oh no, the keys! I screamed inside my head.
I dug into my pocket with an unskilled hand. A loud crashed inside the house made me scream. I danced like crazy digging the keys out of my jeans. Once I located them, I unlocked the door and slid in. I locked the doors once I was in because I thought it would help.
I watched in horror as the front door opened. I screamed inside my car as I jammed the keys into the ignition. The truck roared to life and I slammed down on the accelerator just as someone walked out of the house.
Please don’t get stuck! Please don’t get stuck! I screamed to my truck inside my head. The rain poured on the gravel road and I was afraid it would be too muddy to make a safe getaway. Thankfully, the truck didn’t get stuck. The powerful engine helped pull me onto the road. I breathed a sigh of relief when I reached the highway. I stopped the truck to let my mind and heart calm down. I had no idea what just happened, but I made up my mind to never go back to that house, even if my life depended on it.
Regina Page 20