by Jasmine Walt
“Sounds fun,” he said with a smile and stepped closer. My heart lurched, and warmth ran through me. “Call me when you get home?” he asked.
I looked into Ethan’s brown eyes, and our gazes locked again. There was something about him, something wild and dangerous and yet so familiar. Whatever it was, I wanted more of it. The energy he gave off was…different. “I will,” I promised. “Bye, Ethan.”
“Bye, Anora.”
I got in my car, smiling the whole way home.
9
All of the sunlight had vanished by the time the plane landed. Nerves raced through my body as I walked through the airport. I called my parents right away to let them know I had landed safely. Mom was still so worried about me, I had to practically hang up on her to get her off the phone. I stopped by the baggage claim, looking for James. To my relief, I easily spotted him. He had on another mud-colored suit and looked strained and anxious again.
“Good evening, Anora. I hope your flight went well,” he said, taking a step back from me.
“It was fine,” I said. It had helped that James had everything arranged for me, from someone picking me up and taking me to the airport to the first class seat he booked. Now he was here to drive me to Aunt Estelle’s house. He even had someone get my bags for me. Though everything he did seemed nice, I couldn’t help but feel like he was trying to avoid spending any more time with me than he had to.
About a half an hour later, we were in a limo driving to Indiana. I eagerly looked out the window but was disappointed when I didn’t see any famous Chicago landmarks nearby. The drive to Aunt Estelle’s—my—house took over an hour. I was surprised at how incredibly flat the land was. In all of our driving, I didn’t think we went over any big hills. Tired, I rested my head against the seat and closed my eyes. I was almost asleep when James spoke.
“This is your street,” he said. I looked out the window and saw absolutely nothing. The moon gave off enough light for me to see that I was surrounded by cornfields on both sides. The limo slowed and made a right turn onto a gravel driveway. A lone porch light loomed in the distance. The driver angled the limo so the lights would illuminate the house.
“Welcome home.” James fished the keys out of his briefcase and tossed them to me. I scrambled out of the limo.
“Oh. My. God.” My jaw dropped. An ostentatious, white Victorian house was in front of us. Its asymmetrical façade was both beautiful and creepy. The front steps led directly to double doors with amazingly detailed stained glass windows of pictures of different types of flowers. The porch ran the entire length of the front of the house, even around a gazebo.
I slowly raised my gaze.
The second story boasted a balcony. Vines of ivy twisted along the railing, clinging to the old wood. To the left was an octagonal tower, raising high above the second floor. A turret was at the top of the balcony. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. The house was both creepy and beautiful, standing before me like an ancient beast, holding its breath and watching me, judging me, making sure I was worthy of entering.
“Shall we?” James motioned towards the house. I let out a breath, breaking my gaze from the house. I shook myself and nodded, then followed James up the pathway and onto the porch. Wood creaked under my feet. My heart skipped a beat at the sound. I’d heard it before, and the groaning of the old wood brought on a sense of comfort, as if the house was welcoming me home.
My hand shook as I held out the key. None of this made sense. It was a house. It had no feelings, no emotions. It was wood and glass, nailed and pieced together.
The key slid into the lock with ease. I inhaled, twisted my wrist, and let out my breath. All that was left was to open the door and step inside. It wasn’t a feat. It was easy, and yet I found myself resisting, thinking that if I stepped into the house, things would forever change.
It had to be haunted. Why the hell else would a house bring on this many emotions?
James cleared his throat and impatiently shifted his weight. I closed my eyes and opened the door. It too creaked as it swung free. A sense of relief washed over me when I lifted my foot and stepped into the dark foyer.
Hardwood clacked under my boots, and I slid my hand up and down the wall, feeling for a light switch. The lights flickered a few times before coming on, spilling a golden glow on the shiny floors.
I stood rooted to the spot, looking inside the large house. The scent of incense and smoke faintly clung to the walls, masked by the smell of new paint and drywall. I took a step forward, then crossed the foyer and entered a dining room.
I expected the house to either be empty or full of ugly old-lady-styled décor. I wasn’t expecting it to look like something out of a historical homes magazine. The room was large and gorgeous, with a long, dark oak table and chairs centered in the room, set up under an ostentatious cast iron chandelier. A hutch full of Victorian-styled china dishes was against the far wall, and floor-length curtains covered the tall windows.
I spun around, looking through the foyer again. The dim light illuminated the room enough for me to see a fireplace and furniture covered with dusty white sheets. My heels echoed throughout the empty house as I made my way into the living room. I stopped a few inches in front of a large couch and pulled the cover off. It made a whoosh, and cloud of dust burst into the air. I coughed and waved my hand in front of my face.
A beautiful settee sat before me. I gently ran a finger over the dark mahogany scrolls that topped the sofa. The ivory velvet cushions were still soft and somewhat firm, leaving me to think that this was not an authentic Victorian piece. Matching armchairs and a love seat filled the rest of the room, centered around an ivory coffee table.
I left the living room through double doors, entering into a library. The breath caught in my chest, and I closed my eyes. The smell of horses—the sweet scent of grain and hay, the fresh wood shavings—brought me instant comfort. The smell of a library full of books did the same.
I pulled my phone from my pocket to use as a flashlight, shining on the wall to find the light switch. A wooden table with four leather chairs sat in the middle of the room, completely surrounded by four walls of bookshelves that went from the floor to the ceiling. A golden rail with a ladder ran the length. I swallowed hard, looking around the room as if the shelves were lined with food and I was a day away from starving to death.
Most of the books were worn and faded, dating back at least a decade. My mind got ahead of me, and I imagined myself filling this room with my own books. I ran my eyes over the titles. Aunt Estelle was a huge romance fan. I turned, prepared to leave the room and come back later, when the shelf closest to the double doors caught my eye.
It will full of anatomy and medical textbooks. The spine of one had rusty stains up and down it. I reached out, carefully touching the blotch. Was that blood? I let my hand drop and blinked a few times, taking another deep breath and inhaling the scent of old paper and ink.
I left the library, crossing through the living room and back into the foyer. There was still so much house left to explore. Using my phone for light, I took a few steps down the foyer, shining the light on the grand staircase. I paused, my foot hovering mid-step, and looked up the stairs.
I shook my head. I’d go up later, after I’d looked through the entire first floor. I went forward down the dark and narrow hall and into a kitchen, the smell of fresh paint growing stronger the closer I got. I turned on a light and blinked at the brightness.
The kitchen surprised me. Not only was it huge, it was completely modern. I remembered James saying that Aunt Estelle had updated the house recently. The counters were granite, and all the appliances were shiny and new.
There was a laundry room and a door leading to the garage off the kitchen, which I knew to be an addition. Everything flowed seamlessly, and I wondered why Aunt Estelle put so much time and effort into restoring and adding onto this house when she didn’t plan to sell it off. An old, red Cadillac was parked in the spot closest to the door. Was
the old car mine too?
I closed the garage door, quickly glancing in the laundry room before I went back into the kitchen. The tags were still on the washer and dryer. A new table and chairs were in the breakfast nook off the kitchen, which had large windows that looked out into the dark yard.
I walked into a large family room next. A huge, cast-iron fireplace was centered on one wall. Typical with the Victorian style, this too was incredibly detailed with scrolls and swirls. A big flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall above the fireplace.
There was one more room off the family room. Another set of double doors opened into an octagon-shaped sunroom. The air was cool from all the windows. I spun around, looking at the detailed crown molding. There was a narrow set of stairs at the back of the house. I creaked my way up them and stopped. There was a locked door at the top, and I didn’t have a key.
Back down I went, going through the hall into the foyer, and walked past a renovated bathroom. My heart fluttered again whey I put my hand on the railing of the main staircase.
I stood at the top of the large landing, looking around for a few seconds before looking into the four bedrooms. The room above the garage smelled like new paint and freshly cut wooden floor panels.
Only the master bedroom had furniture with a large, four-post bed, two nightstands, and a dresser. The attached bathroom was huge and also recently redone. True to the Victorian era, the tub had claw feet and the sink had hand-painted pictures of mermaids circling the porcelain base.
An exterior door opened from the master bedroom to a small porch that gave way to another set of stairs leading to the turret. I stared outside but decided against it. Yeah, the house was restored, but climbing three stories up in the dark didn’t seem safe.
At the end of the hall was another door that I assumed was a closet. I opened it and was surprised to see two more doors. One led to a creepy attic—well, I assumed it was creepy at least—and the other was to the second set of stairs that emptied into the family room.
The wind blew, and the house creaked ever so slightly. I went back downstairs wondering why Aunt Estelle had such a big house. It wasn’t like she had children. Mom had told me Aunt Estelle had lived in a nursing home for the last five years. Why update this old house now?
“I trust you like the house,” James said as soon as I emerged into the foyer. He hadn’t moved an inch from where he was standing when we entered the house.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” I said honestly.
“Very well. I was sure you would. Goodnight.” He grabbed his briefcase and hurried to the door. Confused, I started after him. He jumped back, afraid of my touch.
“I’m staying here?” I might have sounded a little abashed.
“This is your house now. You have everything you need.” James looked like he wanted to get the hell out of here. He was gripping his briefcase so tight his knuckles turned white.
“Yeah, but…” I started. What the hell was going on? James’s hand slipped off the doorknob in his hurried attempt to leave. Once he finally got the door open, he scuttled down the porch stairs and jumped into the limo, which peeled out of the driveway.
After a moment of stilled shock, I closed the door, feeling close to tears. I was all alone in this creepy old house. I had no idea what to do, where to sleep, or even what to eat. What the hell did James mean when he said I had everything I needed?
I locked the front door and went into the kitchen. I rummaged around my purse until I found my phone. I unlocked the screen, debated calling Laney, and set the phone down. I looked around the large room, wishing the windows had curtains. My eyes settled on the fridge. Not thinking I would get lucky enough to find it full of food, I was shocked when I opened it.
It was stocked full. I checked the dates; the food was fresh. I opened the other cabinets and found dishes, pots, and pans. I wondered what else was in the house.
I turned, preparing to investigate, when I saw the basement door. I stared at it and shook my head. That could wait. I shivered. I was not going into the basement by myself. At night. In an unfamiliar house. No freaking way.
Taking a knife from a drawer in the kitchen, I walked around the house and made sure all the doors were locked. I also turned on every single light that I could. I was too scared to worry about wasting electricity.
I made myself a sandwich and put my dishes in the dishwasher when I was done eating. I went back upstairs, debating whether or not I should shower. It would really feel good to be clean, but showering would make me feel too vulnerable, and images from Psycho flashed through my brain.
Okay…I’ll just shower in the morning.
I changed into my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and got into the four-post bed in the master bedroom. I lay down and closed my eyes but was unable to relax enough to feel remotely tired. I sat up and called Laney. When she didn’t answer, I tried Marie and got her voicemail. I bit my lip and looked at the phone. There was one more person I could call.
Without letting myself second-guess it, I dialed Ethan’s number. He answered after the first ring.
“Hey, Anora,” he said, sounding like he was smiling. “How are you?”
“I’m pretty good. A bit lonely. But I feel much better talking to you already.”
“I can’t believe I’m telling you this!” I laughed, two hours later. “But yes, I love wearing costumes. I have like five different ones just for the Renaissance Fair, which I go to at least once every summer, by the way.”
“You’re such a dork.” Ethan laughed too.
“Oh my gosh, do not judge them ‘til you’ve gone! The Ren Fair is so fun!”
“There is no way you’d get me to go to one of those,” he said.
“Oh, you will. And you will wear a costume. And you will love it! Or else.”
“Or else what?” he asked.
“I don’t know…terrible things will happen.”
“Well we can’t have that, so I guess that means I’ll have to go. You are not getting me into a costume, though.”
“Come on, I think you’d look great as Robin Hood. Green tights and all.” I rolled over and pulled the blankets tighter around me; it had gotten really cold. I wasn’t sure if the heater worked in the house, and I was afraid it would catch fire. To be safe, I didn’t mess with it.
We continued talking about the most random things for almost another hour. Ethan promised he’d talk to me until I felt safe or fell asleep—whichever came first. My eyes were finally getting heavy.
“What about Halloween? Do you wear a costume then?” I asked with a yawn.
“Not since I was, oh, eight years old.”
“Psh, you don’t know what you’re missing out on,” I said. “I always dress up. In fact, I have an amazing costume this year.”
“Really? What is it?” Ethan asked.
My words came out slowly, evidence I was drifting to sleep. “A leather Elven Warrior outfit. I got it from the Ren Fair, too.”
“You really are a nerd.”
“ It’s…it’s very…authentic.”
“Is it now?”
“Umm-hmm.”
“You sound tired. Sleep well, Anora.”
“You too. Thanks…for talking…to me.”
“No problem. Goodnight.”
“Night.” I drifted into a deep sleep. I dreamed that I woke up to find Ethan sitting on the foot of my bed. I sat up to greet him, but he pushed me back down and climbed under the covers with me and held me until I fell asleep.
10
A stream of bright sunlight poured in through the uncurtained window, reflecting off of specks of dust that hovered in the air. Though I’d only gotten a little over four hours of sleep, being in an unfamiliar bed made me wide awake. The illumination throughout the house from the cloudless day made me feel considerably safer. I hated admitted the dark scared me.
After breakfast, I went upstairs, showered, and got dressed. Armed with my cell phone, I went up the stairs to the turret. I was standing thr
ee stories above the ground, looking out at farmland, over grown fields and trees. It was nothing out of the ordinary, and yet I found it beautiful.
There were several outbuildings in the backyard. The old, white barn looked like it might cave in with the next strong gust of wind. Next to that were a shed, a dilapidated chicken coup, and a newish pole barn. A fence of weather warped wooden planks surrounded it. Did Aunt Estelle used to have horses?
A huge field was behind the outbuildings, and behind that was a dense treeline that stretched along what I assumed was the end of my property. I tried to imagine seventy-five football fields to get an idea of what my property consisted of, but it was too difficult to visualize. I took pictures to show Mom and Dad, then went and looked in all the old buildings, not finding anything of real interest other than old gardening tools, but the wooden handles promised splinters to any hand that tried to use them.
I snapped several pictures as I walked around the front of the house. The inside was beautiful. The outside…not so much. Nothing had been done in terms of lawn and garden for years. The flowerbeds were full of tall weeds and the grass needed cut—badly. Even in bright sunlight, the house gave off an ethereal feel.
“That’s stupid,” I said to myself. It was a house. Nothing more, nothing less. And it wasn’t haunted, which surprised me…and almost disappointed me. A ghost would have at least been some company.
I stopped short on the sidewalk, noticing several boxes on the porch. There was a note taped to one of them.
Anora-
These boxes contain items from your aunt’s apartment at the retirement home that she wanted you to have. The rest of her possessions have been donated to the Salvation Army, as that was her wish.
-James
His handwriting was small and freakishly neat. I picked up the smallest box and was surprised at how heavy it was. When had James stopped by? While I was still sleeping? Maybe while I was showering. Weird…why hadn’t he rang the doorbell? Oh well, it didn’t matter. I lugged the boxes inside and set the smallest box down on the dining room table. I got a knife from the kitchen to slice open the packaging tape.