Chapter 3
1573 Words
3
Visions danced in my head. Shadowy forms sprang up from the darkness. Clouds parted and revealed a dead stump surrounded by trees. I recognized it then. The painting from Alec’s apartment. Only this time the lonely glade wasn’t so lonely.
A cloaked figure stood behind the stump. Their hood hid their face in darkness, but I somehow knew they were staring at me.
Lightning flashed overhead and for a split second illuminated the grove. My eyes widened as I beheld other shadows lurking at the edges of the clearing. Their faces were mere patches of darkness, but I could see eyes. Red eyes, and all staring at me.
“Hey,” a soft voice breathed at me.
I started awake and found myself looking up into Roxie’s concerned face. She tried to give me a smile that was more filled with concern than good humor. “You okay?”
I returned my eyes to the screen and shrugged. “I guess.”
“You were talking in your sleep,” she told me as she took a seat in the extra chair. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”
“Sleeping or talking?” I teased as I forced my focus to remain on the screen. I didn’t want to look into her pity-filled eyes.
“Both,” Roxie replied as she set a hand atop mine. “I know what day it is for you. Do you want to talk about it?”
“I’m fine,” I insisted as I glanced at the computer clock. “I’ll be even better in five seconds.”
Roxie arched an eyebrow. “Why five seconds?”
“Weekend!” someone shouted from a nearby cubicle as the clocks struck the hour.
I gathered up my things and stood to face my friend. “Time for a little r-and-r.”
“Did you want to get a drink?” Roxie offered.
Those pity-filled eyes. I faked a smile and shook my head. “Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow, though.”
“Yeah, tomorrow. . .”
“Chin up,” I teased as I patted her on the shoulder. “We’ve got two days to get drunk and forget that we have to go back to work on Monday.”
Roxie squeezed my hand and smiled. “Don’t get too drunk, at least not without me.”
“I’ll be sure to call you when I open the bottle,” I promised.
She gave me a wink. “Just open a bottle of expensive wine. I’d know that sound anywhere.”
I laughed and shook my head as I scooted past her. “Just the cheap stuff for me, but later.”
“Later!” she called back as I strode down the hall to the elevators.
The slow, stuffy elevator ride allowed me to hide my fake smile in that cramped space, surrounded by people who wouldn’t have noticed an elephant marching through because the long weekend awaited them. I couldn’t get Roxie’s words out of my head. I know what day it is for you. Yeah, that day. That anniversary.
I stepped out of the office building and was greeted by a chill breeze that swept past me. The cold cut through my jacket and sank into my bones where my melancholy greeted it like an old friend.
“Thank you, Mother Nature. . .” I muttered as I walked to the local parking garage
It was a recent purchase, bought after my other method of transportation became unavailable to me.
“Unavailable. . .” I murmured with a bitter scoff. “I can’t even say the truth in my head.”
My legs took me swiftly to the car park and my aged sedan. I dropped into the car seat and shut the door, but made no move to start the engine. Images of that strange dream flashed across my mind. Images of that painting popped up in my thoughts. That half-burnt masterpiece on the easel, tucked inside that darkened room with murmurings of lies and shouts. It felt so long ago, but it was only a year. One year to the day.
I had to do it. I had to go see it. A rumble overhead caught my attention. A storm was brewing. If I wanted to get this done then I needed to do it now.
I started the engine and wound my way through the traffic to the familiar blocks of apartment buildings. The wind that had teased me on coming out of the office building strengthened and now knocked against the car windows like a mob. They brought more clouds and the air smelled of rain, but nothing had yet fallen. It was working itself into a terrible frenzy and wouldn’t let loose until it was good and ready.
I parked in front of the familiar two floor apartment building. Lights cast their glow over the ground and ghostly shadows passed by closed curtains.
I stepped out of my car and looked up. One of those apartments wouldn’t have any lights on.
“I knew you’d come, my dear.” I jerked my head to the entrance. Miss Hazel held the door open for me, and there was that pity-filled smile again. “It’s all up there if you want to look at it.”
I joined her and smiled. “You really didn’t have to keep it that way.”
“I wanted to, and it’s no hurt on me to keep one apartment empty,” she assured me as she led me inside. She grasped my hand and set a key in my palm. “Now you take as long as you want, and don’t be fretting about using the lights. That’s what they’re there for, after all.”
I leaned down and pecked a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks.” I slipped past her and walked toward the stairs.
“Elly.” I paused and half-turned back to the kindly old woman. A few tears glistened in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I truly am.”
I managed a shaky smile. “Me, too.”
I hurried up the stairs so she couldn’t see my own wet eyes, but paused at the top. The dark clouds had obscured the sunny hall in shadows, and at the end was the door. I swallowed the lump in my throat and strode forward. Nothing stirred as I reached the entrance and tried to insert the key. My hand shook so bad that it took a few tries, but I managed to unlock and swing open the door.
The silence that hung over the hall invaded the apartment. Silence and dread. I stepped inside and flicked on the light. The luminescent bulb illuminated the plain furnishings, untouched for a year. I closed the door beside myself and brushed my hand over the top of the entrance table. Not a speck of dust.
“Thank you, Miss Hazel,” I whispered as I dropped my purse on the table.
A flash of lightning made me jump. Thunder soon followed. The fury of the storm rattled the windows. I walked over to the glass and peered out. The angry clouds hung low over the apartment building, just like it had one year before. Like a ghost returned from the grave.
A shudder ran through me and I wrapped my arms around myself. “Why did you have to say that?” I scolded my mind.
The painting.
I rolled my eyes. My mind could be so demanding.
Another crack of lightning split the sky. I turned away from the fury and back to the silence. The simple bulb cast the door to the bedroom in shadow. I took a deep breath and strode over to the entrance. The wood seemed to glare back at me as I reached for the knob.
My hand froze around the handle as I heard a strange groaning noise. Had that come from the room? I leaned forward and pressed my ear against the wood. No reverberations, no movement, nothing. Just the oppressive silence.
“You’re starting to hear things,” I scolded myself as I straightened.
I turned the knob and flung the door open. The weak light at my back spilled only a few feet into the bedroom, but that was enough to see the easel. The charred remains stood defiant against gravity, and atop its perch sat the strange painting, or what was left of it. The neighbors had spilled gallons of water on it to keep the flames from spreading. Half of the picture was gone, but not the most important part. The stump was still there.
I stepped inside, but didn’t bother with the light. Deep down I dreaded a clear look at Alec’s final masterpiece, but I dreaded more the bed. The sheets had been changed long ago and the floor cleaned, but the repairs couldn’t replace the memories in my mind.
I side-stepped the picture and took a few steps to the bed, but I couldn’t make my legs move me closer. The white sheets seemed to be mocking my memories. My eyes lowered to the floor where Miss Hazel had somehow managed to clean the blood. I could still see the dark shape of that gun laying there. My chest tightened. Warm tears streamed down my cheeks.
“Damn it. . .” I murmured as I wiped them away. “Damn you, Alec. Why’d you have to leave me?”
A stomping noise made me stiffen. I whipped my head around expecting to see someone in the doorway. There was nothing, and yet the hairs on the back of my neck still stood on end.
“Hello?” I called out. “Is anyone there?”
I crept forward so I stood just to the side and in front of the painting. Something moved out of the corner of my eye. I turned toward the painting and my breath caught in my throat.
The shadows and trunk were still there staring back at me, but there was something else. I leaned in close and squinted my eyes. There it was. A face in the trees. It stared straight at me.
Then it moved.
- Writer
