Oakwood Island

by Cormier, Angella; Arseneault, Pierre C;

  “Oh yes, sister. It will be much, much different,” Amy smiled as she whispered to herself.

  * * *

  With a screwdriver in hand, Norah tried to somehow jimmy the lock, but having no idea how to do so, she grew impatient within a few minutes. She knew she had to break it off, but this meant she would be putting herself in danger. Without knowing what else to do, Norah ran to the kitchen, grabbed the hammer from the drawer and rushed back to the basement door. Pounding away at the lock, it broke open after the fourth strike. Her heart pounding hard and fast, she unlatched the dead bolts, took a deep breath, and started down the stairs. She descended as fast as she could, not wanting to let on that she had let her guard down and was in a state of panic, even now. Amy was still sitting on the floor, with her back against the bed.

  “I’m here now, and I’ll get you some supper, Amy.”

  When Amy didn’t reply back, Norah began to feel unnerved.

  “Amy! Look at me!” she shouted.

  Her sister got up on her feet and slowly turned, the shackles on her left ankle clinking against each other, the chain rattling on its own metal links. Though her face was paler and her frame a bit smaller than Norah’s, it was like looking in a mirror. The twin sisters faced each other, one with fright and panic in her heart, the other with a void that ran as deep as her veins.

  “What was all that banging before you came downstairs, Norah?” Amy smiled and asked mockingly. “Did you have a hard time with the door?” Amy’s green eyes transfixed Norah’s, peering into her sister’s soul.

  “Never mind the door, its fine now. I’ll get you some sandwiches for supper. Wash up.”

  With that, Norah started to make her way back up the stairs, climbing them two at a time. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would explode at any given moment and her body would collapse, giving way underneath her. Amy’s chilling laughter, loud and obtrusive, made Norah’s heart stop pounding, and for an instant it skipped a beat entirely. She turned a quarter turn, peering over her left shoulder, worry spreading across her face. She knew she shouldn’t let her guard down, but her emotions ran higher than what she could control. Fear trapped itself inside her and she had no way of diffusing it, no matter how hard she tried. Amy’s laughter ended abruptly and her voice commanded the attention that Norah didn’t want to give her. She had no choice. Amy had her where and how she wanted.

  Amy began, a grin forming on her face.

  “Norah dear, there is no point in hiding it. I know the lock on the door is broken off. You know you can’t hide anything from your sweet sister, as much as you want to believe you can hide anything from me. It’s impossible and you know it. The lock won’t be on that door again tonight. The earliest it could possibly be back on is tomorrow, when the hardware store re-opens and you can go buy a new one. Isn’t that right Norah-boo?”

  Norah’s eyes watered but she held back her tears, teeth clenched hard together; she swallowed the lump that had built in her throat.

  “Amy, do you remember what happened the last time you tried to escape? Do you remember the damage, both to this house and to each other that you caused? I think you know trying to escape isn’t worth your time in the end. You know you will never be able to run away from this house. It will all catch up to you, and you will get it back three fold.” Norah turned and quickly made her way upstairs before Amy had the chance to respond. She closed the basement door in one swift movement, the breeze from its path fanning her flushed face. She sighed and let out a long breath as she replaced the two dead bolts securely.

  She walked toward the fridge to start getting their supper ready, but one glance back at the door and she knew those two deadbolts wouldn’t be enough to keep her sanity in check. Norah backtracked to the kitchen table and grabbed a high-back chair from the set. She lifted it with both hands and carried it over to the basement door, placing it under the door knob, jiggling it to ensure its adequate position.

  “That should do it, for now,” Norah told herself.

  * * *

  As Norah started on some sandwiches, her mind wandered, recalling the last conversation she’d had with her mother. She had been but a young woman, fresh out of high school then, the summer before she was to head off to university. Medicine had been the field she had chosen. A bright and promising student, she had passed all entrance exams and she had held promise in the field. Her mother’s ailing health had soon dashed all her hopes and dreams though, as she was forced to remain on Oakwood Island to care for her dying mother. Her father had long since passed, when Amy and Norah had been but toddlers.

  She never had forgotten the visit from her grandfather on the day her dad died. It had been scary for a four-year-old, and both she and Amy had cowered in the corner of their kitchen while their mother stood in front of them, protecting both from their paternal grandfather. He had let himself in, not unusual, but the stench of alcohol on his breath and the redness in his face with bulging eyes had been enough to make all three of them scared for their lives.

  With his finger pointing in her face, he didn’t hold back for long the purpose of his evening visit.

  “You and your family! I knew there had to be some truth to all those stories about you and your crazy family!” The older man stumbled forward for a few steps and quickly used his right hand to steady himself up on a chair, before starting to yell again.

  “I told Tom he was too good for you. For your kind. Coming from God knows where, doing God knows what with each other. I always figured you were all just a little nutso in the head. But now. With Tom gone…” He brought both his hands to his head and rubbed his own hair roughly, beating on his temples a few times before exploding in the woman’s face once more.

  “You WITCH! I know you brought some evil darkness in my boy’s life. I knew it from the start but couldn’t make him see it. And THEM! Those girls, I just KNOW that little bitch of a daughter of yours is responsible for this. She killed him! I know she did! She was the only one there with him. Why would he do such a stupid thing like trip and fall in the bathroom? She is EVIL, just like you. They both are! I know your family is nothing but a curse now and I am going to take care of it, of HER myself!”

  The old drunk man lunged towards the woman, both hands up and ready to grab her by the throat. While Norah sat in the corner, her hands covering her teary eyes, she felt her sister Amy get up and move away from her. She tried to grab at Amy’s nightgown, but she was too far now, standing right behind her mother’s long flower-printed dress. Lifting her hands up over her head, she put both of them against her head and lowered down into a squatting position. Norah could hear her groaning and moaning at first and then she screamed. It only lasted a second. Norah watched as her grandfather took a few steps back, his eyes still wide, but with horror now.

  The redness of his face had been replaced with the palest shade of white she had ever seen. His mouth grasped for words, but he couldn’t speak. Norah got up and ran to her mother’s side, looking up at her, she just looked back at him, stunned at his quick change in demeanor. She looked down at Norah, grabbed her close, and hugged her into her hip. Her grandfather turned tail and ran out of the house, never looking back once, he pushed the screen door open and let it bang shut.

  Once it closed into place, Norah and her mother quickly turned around to find Amy sprawled out on the floor behind them, in a deep sleep. At her young age, Norah believed her mother when she was told Amy had just gotten so scared that she had fainted.

  But as the years went on and the rumours started to reach Norah that her grandfather had seen the ghost of his son standing right before him, head smashed in as a result of it hitting the sink and killing him just earlier on that day, she started to question if Amy had passed out from having used some kind of telepathic force on her grandfather. She dismissed the rumours, but as time went on, she started questioning her mother and noticed she never seemed fully hone
st with her and would change the subject. Why was Amy always kept hidden from everyone? Why wasn’t she allowed to talk about Amy to anyone? Her mother told her time and again that people would never understand. That Amy would always be in danger if she was a part of this world.

  Since then, Norah always questioned if her father’s death might have been her sister’s doing, but her mother always refused to admit that it was Amy who had been responsible. She simply told Norah that it had been an accident; nothing could have prevented the Lord from taking their father.

  At her mother’s deathbed, Norah knew the life she had herself dreamed of having in the big city was but a memory, slowly erasing itself from her mind. Her mother’s hand had felt cold in hers and her voice frail and weak.

  “Norah, baby-girl, you know I love you with all my heart,” her sentence cut short by wet coughing and strained breathing. When she caught her breath again, she continued.

  “I don’t want to ask you to carry this burden that I have held for so long, but there is no other way...promise me...Norah, promise me you will keep Amy away from everyone. Her curse is ours to bear as well, always has, always will...”

  Norah had smiled sweetly at her mother, and promised she would always keep her safe from harm, both in giving and receiving. Norah’s mother passed away but a moment after, a single tear shed on her now cold skin.

  Norah had known for a long time there was a possibility she would have to carry this burden, as the curse her mother had spoken of had been recounted to her by her best friend, as she had heard of it from the local rumours. What she had come to know was that this curse had been passed on throughout generations, as far back as before her ancestors had arrived and claimed land in North America. Every generation was born a set of twin girls. One, a healthy, and normal child; the second born, an evil, powerful and malicious child. The curse, as legend was told, had been cast by a vile demonic force, centuries prior. The second born child had the ability to read into every person’s fears telepathically. Only those with a strong control over their own psyche and consciousness were protected, and this only if they maintained their guard. The twin would then have the power to create an environment, only real in the other’s imagination and consciousness, terrifying them, and ultimately laying the path for their death.

  Over the course of several generations, it became clear that killing off the second born would be of no advancement, as the first born would gain the powers, then suffer a lifetime of mental anguish and paranoia, living in a world of both spell-cast fear and the dark powers that continually fed them. Killing both would only intensify the next set of twins born; making the evil one stronger and killing babies was not something the family wanted to be known for.

  So, as the legend and rumours recounted, it had become custom that the mother would be obliged to keep the second born hidden from the outside world, chained and locked away, caring as much as was possible for her child. Once the mother would no longer be able to do so, it often became the sibling’s obligation to fulfil the role. This is why Norah had chains of her own now. Invisible as they may have been, her chains kept her linked to this house, to this island, and to her sister.

  She had let her guard down, only for an instant, but it had been wide open. Had Amy noticed? Her demeanour hadn’t changed. She’d tried to not let Amy see that she wasn’t armed with her usual natural defence on her mind. However, certainty was no friend of Norah’s now, as she topped the sandwiches with a sliced dill pickle. No, certainty was as elusive to her as the key she had lost earlier that day. Making her way to the basement with a plate of sandwiches, she cleared her mind and unlocked the deadbolts.

  * * *

  As soon as the door clicked shut behind Norah, she felt something was amiss in the dimly lit basement below. She steadily carried the plate of sandwiches in one hand, a bottle of cold water in the other, setting each foot down on the wooden stairs completely, pausing and listening before taking another. The stillness and quietness was deafening. She let out a loud breath, partly to exhale the last intake of air that she just now realized she had been holding in, and partly to confirm that noise was still existent in this homely cell.

  About halfway down the stairs, Norah could see most of the basement and more importantly her sister’s living quarters. Her sister wasn’t sitting next to her bed anymore, nor was she anywhere near her bed. Norah knew that Amy often hid under the bed to cause panic and try to cast off the mental awareness that she held, always under control. Well, almost always.

  Norah descended the stairs faster now, stopping at the very last one. A sound coming from the far corner of the basement caught her attention. It was more like a wispy, light rapping noise, hardly noticeable at first, but growing steadily. Norah set out to find her sister and investigate the noise. Still in shadows, she inched her way around to the right hand side of the basement, not wanting to get too close to her sister.

  The soft rapping noise had already become louder in just the few steps she took. As she made her way across her sister’s bed, Norah’s mouth flew open, a scream escaping her. Her sister laid on the floor, on the side of her bed, her own mouth wide open. But instead of a scream escaping her sister’s gaping mouth, there crawled out hundreds upon hundreds of small, black spiders, forming an ebony cloud around her sister’s body and starting to cover the grey concrete just beyond the area rug. As the plate that was holding the sandwiches crashed onto the floor, broken pieces and bread fell on a few of the faster spiders. They quickly moved to avoid being squished. Norah felt the vibration on her vocal cords before she realized she was screaming.

  When she looked down again at her sister, the black moving cloud had grown twice the size, and about a hundred spiders were now approaching her feet, a few starting to climb her scrubs. She shook her leg and stomped on a few, before she realized that stomping them all would be impossible. Soon they would be climbing into her mouth, suffocating her. Turning towards the basement stairs, it suddenly dawned on her that spiders had never bothered her before. Admittedly the sight of such a grouping heading out of Camp Amy certainly made her stomach knot up, but spiders were not a fear she had ever harboured.

  As her feet approached the staircase, Norah didn’t notice the bottle of water that had rolled off in this direction when she’d screamed and dropped everything. Her right foot landed on the bottle, her leg twisting and bending under her as she fell on her back. Norah’s head bumped the concrete floor and the blackness of both the spiders and her mind overpowered her, her eyes closing.

  * * *

  When Norah came to, she found herself still lying on the cold floor of the basement. The wooden stairs peering down at her, she ran her hand on the back of her head to find a large bump, still throbbing with pain. Lifting herself slowly up on her elbows, Norah looked around, no spiders in sight. Her sister was laying in her bed, eyes closed, her chest rising and falling rhythmically.

  “A real sleeping beauty,” Norah muttered under her breath. As she got up, she was quickly reminded that her right foot was sprained. Walking over in pain to the bed, Norah checked the shackles on Amy’s foot. They were still tight in place, safe and secure. Her head throbbing, she stared at her sleeping twin sister. She began to feel anger rising up within. Her entire life, she spent protecting and keeping her hidden, safe from harm. The only thing she ever got in return was a life full of pain and evil that she constantly had to protect herself and others from experiencing. She grew more and more upset, her fists clenched on her sides, her breaths coming in rapid succession.

  As Norah’s anger grew, she felt a sudden pressure inside her chest. She looked down to the bed. Amy’s cold and blank stare was on her, locking her eyes on her own. She grabbed her chest with both hands, the pressure growing stronger. Then, a familiar black cloud returned to her feet. Crawling from under the bed, thousands of black spiders climbed onto Norah’s scrubs; first her pants, then her top. When the scrubs were covered, they
found all the openings, and crawled inside. Thousands of small black legs inched their way to cover her entire body. Finally, they masked her throat, a circling movement they created, climbing upwards until they reached her chin. Norah was frozen in fear, her chest bearing down on her with so much pressure; she imagined this was what a heart attack must feel like. The last thing she saw before the spiders covered her nose and eyes was Amy, laughing with hysteria.

  She felt her body falling forward, a web of white silk cocooning her; she was unable to fight back. Trapped, her body fell onto her sister’s bed in one abrupt movement. She tried to move her arms but they were held down by the spiders’ web of intricate vileness. The muffled screams reached Amy’s ears, who was now standing over Norah, wrapped in this cocoon of evil. She ripped apart the covering and smiled down at her sister, who gasped for deep breaths of fresh air.

  All at once, the spiders and the webbing disappeared from Norah’s body. When she attempted to get up, her left foot was held down by a clanking linked-chain. Her ankle was shackled to the same contraption that had held her sister prisoner for all these years. Amy had found the small key hidden in the seam of her scrubs. The same key she had put there a few months ago when she had found her sister not breathing. A peanut allergy that came suddenly, almost gifting her with the curse her sister bore. She couldn’t let that happen. She wasn’t strong enough to bear the curse and so now she kept a key at hand at all times. She also kept allergy medicines as well. But now she regretted her paranoia.

  “Well my sweet sister, it appears that your worst fear works out to my advantage, now doesn’t it? You hid it from me for so long, but I knew one day I would figure it out. The spiders were just to distract you and a tool for holding you down. The truth is that your fear of being me, of living the life I had to live for so long, that fear is what finally set me free. I hope you enjoy your new home, and your new name....Amy.”