Dark Embrace

3

I pushed the door open and the knob fell to the ground. I entered, absorbing everything around me. It was dusty and dark. There wasn't a single light on, as if the sunlight had disappeared with Mom and Dad. I quickly looked around, noticing the stairs... I recalled running up and down those stairs as a child, playing and shouting joyfully. My father used to pretend he was a monster and chase me. I glanced towards the sunroom, and it appeared exactly how my mother had left it, with her beloved plants and flowers still displayed on the shelves. But now, they were wilted and dead, like everything else, including me inside.

The walls were still painted the same light yellow, but the color had dulled over time. I lost everything within a blink of an eye, never imagined it could happen; if I had a list of worst scenarios, losing my marriage and daughter would be at the bottom.

Why didn't I rent a different apartment instead of returning to this wretched house? I feel completely lost; I fear I would not cope with moving to a different apartment. Despite its age, I believe I would prefer living in this old house filled with happy memories rather than in a memory-less apartment.

I went to my parents' room and saw their old photos on the dresser. One was our first Christmas together. I was just a baby, and Mom was holding me tight, with Dad smiling beside us. Next to it was a picture of the first flower I grew with Mom. We were both smiling and proud. I remembered it like it was yesterday - Mom told me to grow a daisy, and I'd check on it every morning, feeling frustrated when I didn't see it grow. Mom said to be patient, and when it finally bloomed, I was overjoyed. Dad took a picture, and I'm glad he did.

My daydream was interrupted by the doorbell. I went downstairs to see who it was. I looked through the peephole and saw an old man with gentle eyes, a grey beard, and a cap. I cautiously opened the door, just a crack, ready to slam it shut if needed.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"Who are you?" the old man asked, his eyes squinting slightly as he looked at me.

"I'm the daughter of the owners of this house," I replied, wondering why he was asking - the question should be for him, not me.

The old man's face lit up with a warm smile. "Ah, do you remember me? I'm George Wilson, a neighbor from across the street. I knew your parents well."

I studied his face, trying to place him, but couldn't quite remember.

"I'm retired now," he continued, "but I used to be a soldier."

"Oh, you're the husband of that lady who always complained about you not being around," I said. That was a terrible way to remember someone, but who could blame me, she would always find an excuse to be friends with Mom because she was lonely.

He chuckled. "You can say that."

I opened the door wide and let him in. "My wife told me she heard some noise coming from this house. I told her it was impossible because it's been abandoned for years, but to my surprise, it's the little Daisy who is back." I smiled. "I'm not little anymore."

"I suppose not." He laughed. "Why are you back?"

"Personal reasons," I said, not wanting to start sharing the story of my life.

"Oh, I get it, but you can't sleep here tonight; it's all dusty and needs some renovations." He said, looking around.

"I'll see what I can do before it gets dark," I said. I don't want to sleep anywhere else, even if it's only one room that I get to clean before it gets dark; I would sleep there.

"Mmm... What would you change about the decor?" He asked. "I'll leave it the way it is, just want it clean," I said. I came to seek solace; changing so much will ruin that.

"Okay, I'll get some people to help. You can stay with my wife till we are done." He offered.

"Oh, I don't want to stress you, thank you so much, but I think I can do this myself," I said. "Ethan would be disappointed in me when he sees I let you clean this house alone." He said, mentioning my father.

"So I won't. Let's get started so you will have a nice place to sleep." I smiled, feeling grateful. "Thank you so much." I said, and he nodded.

We both left the house - he went to gather some people, and I headed to his house to meet his wife. She was seated on the couch, reading a magazine, and she looked like she didn't age one bit, still radiant and lovely. I couldn't help but think of my mom, who would have looked just as beautiful if she were alive.

"Who are..." she started to ask, opening the door slightly, just like I had earlier.

"I'm the daughter of the owner of that house," I said, pointing to the house.

She gasped, dramatically placing her hand on her chest. "I told him!" she exclaimed, raising her voice slightly.

"Excuse my manners, come in, dear," she said, letting me in and sitting me down on the couch. She stared at me like she was seeing a ghost.

We spent the next few hours, catching up on the town's news and more on how New York was. We also made some snacks for the people working, I'd check up on them every hour with snacks to keep them less tired. It was finally dark. They were finished with the inside, just left with the outside. Everywhere seemed bright again. I thanked George and his friends who helped once again, and they said they'd be back the next day to do the outside.

After they left, I took a shower in my parents' room, now my room. My old room was too small, so I'd figure out what to use it for later. After my shower, I enjoyed the remaining cookies and milk from George's house while looking at pictures of Mom, Dad, and me. I listened to Dad's favorite CDs on the record player and found myself smiling, picturing happy memories. Just then, the doorbell rang. It was midnight! I thought it might be George or his wife. But when I looked through the peephole, I saw no one. That was weird. I grabbed a long broom, unsure how it would help, but Ashwood City is known for robbers. The doorbell rang again, and I saw nothing. I was scared. Robbers wouldn't wait, they'd break in. Maybe I was just paranoid. I slowly opened the door with the broom ready, and that's when I saw him - a man, bleeding profusely, on my doorstep. I dropped the broom and gasped. He was barely alive. I couldn't leave him to die, even if he was a robber. My doctor's instincts took over, and I brought him in to treat his wounds.