by Susan Harris
Pulling the cover off the container, the scent of Fettuccini Alfredo rushed to her nostrils, causing her stomach to churn. Madison was so hungry she almost ate it cold, but decided to wait long enough to pop it into the microwave. As she was waiting, she thought that maybe she was finally rid of Raif. Maybe literally calling down the wrath of God worked. Maybe he was finally gone after all.
Fat chance.
Suddenly, Bill let out a death curdling scream from the bedroom, causing Madison’s heart to stop. My God… Bill, Madison thought as she raced down the hallway, afraid of what she might see.
“What the hell, Maddie?” Bill ranted, sitting up in bed. “Are you trying to kill me or what? If you want a divorce, just say so!”
“What are you talking about, Bill,” she asked, when she ran into the room. “What the hell?”
“That’s exactly what I’d like to know! What the hell?” Bill ranted sitting shirtless on the bed, pointing to his pillow.
Madison gasped when she looked at the bed, for on the bed, stabbed onto Bill’s pillow, was a butcher knife standing straight up, through it and into the mattress. It was inches from where Bill’s head rested while he was sleeping.
“Maddie, if you want a divorce that bad, then you’ve got it!” Bill said, rising quickly from the bed and pulling on his pants.
“You think I did this?” I asked, yelling at Bill.
“Who else is here, Maddie?” Bill screamed, his voice bellowing throughout the house. Bill quickly finished getting dressed then pulled clothes out of the closet, throwing them onto the bed as quickly as he could.
“Bill… it wasn’t me… it was Raif…” Madison tried to get him to see the voice of reason, unable to believe what was happening, that he was leaving.
“Oh yeah?” Bill yelled, grabbing a duffle bag from the closet and threw it onto the bed and shoved clothes into it as quickly as he could. Suddenly, he stopped and stared at Madison with hurt-filled eyes. “Who the hell is Raif?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you …”
“Who is Raif?” Bill asked again, shaking her shoulders, looking into her eyes.
“Raif’s the ghost,” Madison replied, and her words fell flat onto the floor between them.
“Maddie, I’m sorry, but you need help,” Bill replied calmly, dropping his hands from her arms and resumed packing.
“I’m telling you the truth, Bill!” Madison yelled as tears sprang to her eyes, spilling onto her cheeks. “Raif has been in this house terrorizing me for a few days now! Who knows? Maybe he’s been here all along!”
“Madison, don’t …” Bill said as he slung the strap of the backpack onto his shoulder and headed down the long hallway toward the front door.
“Bill, wait!” Madison yelled, running after him.
“Maddie, get some help,” Bill said over his shoulder before slamming the door behind him.
Madison slid onto the floor as fresh tears coursed freely down her cheeks. She sat there for hours, crying, thinking of the baby and of Bill, knowing that they had been having problems for years, but never dreamed it would come down to this.
Sudden rage filled her heart as she looked around the room. “Well, are you happy now, Raif?” Then she got to her feet and walked down the hallway when she noticed the open door to the spare room. Slowly, she walked into the room, ready for a face off. “Raif? Come out, you coward!”
Silence rushed to greet her.
“Raif? What the hell was that all about?” Madison yelled, letting her emotions along with her tears to pour onto her cheeks.
She waited, listening.
Nothing.
“Well, you’ve got your wish,” Madison shouted into the empty room. “You can have the house to yourself now, because I’m leaving, too.”
The hell you are… Raif’s voice was like a breath in the stillness of the room.
“Watch me,” Madison replied, her fists balled. But how do you fight a ghost? “Raif, I’m not going to fight you anymore. The house is yours. You made sure of that with your little stunt this afternoon. You nearly killed Bill! And scared him half to death!”
Suddenly, a mist crept along the floor, slowly gathering at the door of the room, building and gathering until it took shape into Raif’s form. If I wanted to kill him, he’d be dead, Raif replied, a smug smile lighting his lips. I merely scared him.
“Scared him?” Madison replied, letting her rage fill her soul. “Is that what you call it? Why the hell would you want to do that anyway? What is this? Some sick fetish? You’re dead, Raif! Deal with it! We can’t ever be together!”
Is that what you think, my pet? Raif asked, edging closer to her, a smile lighting his lips, toying with her like a cat with a mouse. You’re a married woman, after all.
“Then what the hell is this all about?” Madison yelled at the figure. “Stop playing games!”
Games? Well, you could call it that, Raif said, walking toward the window.
Madison saw that the door was open and unblocked. She ran as fast as she could toward it when flames shot up, blocking her way. She turned to look at Raif and replied, “That’s just an illusion. It isn’t real.”
Perhaps. Do you want to find out? Raif calmly asked, smiling.
Suddenly, Madison remembered the burning candle in the living room and realized he could create fire, real fire.
Decided not to chance it? I didn’t think so, Raif replied, looking smug. Now, to continue my story. You just got caught up in this, that’s all. It’s nothing personal, you understand. You see, a hundred years ago, I was the owner of this house. I bought it, thinking it quaint.
“When you were human?” Madison interrupted.
Yes, I loved this house and wanted to spend the rest of my days here. Raif stopped, reflecting, looking out the window.
Little did I know…
Madison couldn’t resist keeping an eye on the door. The flames were still burning, but the door-facing looked untouched. “Now what?” she asked, knowing she had to keep Raif talking.
Little did I know what would happen…
Madison inched toward the door, then suddenly sprinted toward it, but Raif was quicker. Just as quickly, the flames were gone, but he was blocking the exit.
And where do you think you’re going? I haven’t finished my story yet, Raif replied when a sudden smile lit his lips. You see, every hundred years this door appears, but only for five days, then it reseals and doesn’t reappear for another hundred years.
“So leave, then, while the door is open,” Madison replied, inching again toward the door.
Raif laughed. It’s not that simple, my dear. You see, I must get someone else to replace me, or I will be stuck in here for another hundred years until the door opens again.
“Just leave, then!” Madison replied. “You don’t have to do this! We can both leave!”
Again, Raif laughed. No, it’s nothing personal, you understand. It’s just that my time is up and now your time has come. Then Raif laughed a menacing sound and with that, Raif flew from the room.
“No, don’t leave me in here!” Madison yelled as the door began to close, her screams filled the house, echoing off the stone walls, and was cut off abruptly when the door suddenly slammed tightly shut.
***
A hundred years later, the house looked relatively untouched by time, but had morphed into a more contemporary décor as the generations passed, but between the turrets, two, broad glass windows suddenly appeared.
Carrying the heavy bucket down the hallway, water sloshed up over the brim as Emily decided to give the spare room a good scrub down. She hadn’t noticed the door before, but decided it would make a good study for her, as she was a writer. She set the bucket onto the floor, as water sloshed over the top, covering the hardwood floors. Emily and her husband had bought the house, hoping to fill it with children one day. She paused with her hand on the silver knob… for she had not yet ventured beyond its door.
The Other Side
J.B. Sullivan
The Other Side
J.B. Sullivan
With respects for Ree Vera
Cartwheels of wind driven snow raced by the window, laying waste to the ground outside. Frozen trees glinted under a moonless sky; gnarled branches cast sinister shadows across the wintry land. Giovanna turned away from the window, unconscious to the oppressive awkwardness that hung in the air, mingled with suppressed dread.
Evelyn cupped her daughter's hand in her own and blinked away more tears. Tenderly, she stroked the back of Bethany's hand with her thumb. There were no thoughts in her mind, only sorrow as she watched over her sole remaining child; she had already lost Giovanna. And now Bethany was just a grey husk of withered human life that sucked at the air supplied to her by a respirator in a desperate attempt to sustain her dying body.
Ravaged by cancer for the last four years, Bethany's parents had requested and demanded every possible treatment for their daughter until the inevitable happened, and the doctors sullenly confessed that they could do no more. In that time, they witnessed Bethany become less and less herself and transform from a very playful child, into a distant, cold shell.
Evelyn had taken to faith at the pinnacle of their lost hope, praying once in the morning, once at night and secretly in her head for the rest of the day. All she could do now was watch in helpless despair as another part of her died and vanished. She had never known a torment such as this; the wretched feeling as her heart devoured itself in a fury of disquieted madness. She wiped at her tear stained eyes with the back of her hand.
Giovanna perched herself on the small radiator that sat just below the window and looked across at John who stood at the foot of Bethany's bed. Once a proud man, John now appeared haggard and older than his actual years, a shadow of his former self. His usually warm eyes were now a bloodshot, stony brown, deep and foreboding. He stared at Bethany's gaunt face, barely recognizing his own daughter in the midst of her disease, her own private hell. John pinched his eyes and sighed. He had become withdrawn and introverted, so unusual for a man who had been warm hearted and a joy to all he knew.
Giovanna pulled a crumpled cigarette carton from her blouse pocket, removed a bent B&H and returned the pack to its holding place. She placed a cigarette between pale lips and held a hand out in front of her. A small flame ignited and danced on the tip of her index finger. She lit the cigarette and blew out the flame, all the while paying close attention to Bethany between the white curls of smoke that drifted towards the ceiling.
Evelyn kissed the back of Bethany's hand and rested it by the child's side. Bethany stared at the ceiling with grey and empty eyes. Standing up, Evelyn turned to John, her face an exhausted pallor of emotional turmoil. John moved to Bethany's side and kissed her forehead. “Goodnight, pumpkin.” He stroked her hairless head. “We love you.”
“Mummy will be back in a short while. She's just going to have a bite to eat,” Evelyn whispered and immediately felt cruel. How could she eat so freely when her daughter could barely eat a bite without bringing it back up?
Giovanna watched John and Evelyn leave the room, switching off the bedroom light as they went. The room plunged into immediate darkness. The burning cherry of Giovanna's cigarette broke through the twilight like a beacon, a strobe brighter with every tote. Pushing herself up from the radiator, Giovanna dropped the last of the cigarette to the floor and crushed it out under her foot. She spent the next half hour pacing the room, smoking or sitting down until Bethany finally stirred.
Opening her eyes, Bethany pushed herself up into a sitting position and stretched her tired muscles. Her eyes searched through the gloom, sensing something was amiss; they finally came to rest on Giovanna who lingered at the foot of her bed. Bethany was overcome by joy, and a broad smile swept her features.
“Giovanna!” Bethany exclaimed, leaping out of the bed. She ran to Giovanna who laughed and scooped Bethany up in her arms. Bethany wrapped her skinny arms around Giovanna's neck and rested her head on her shoulder.
“Hello, little sister.” Giovanna smiled down at her younger sibling and swept a stray ringlet of golden hair out of her face. Over Bethany's shoulder, Giovanna could see the empty mortal shell that had been Bethany's burden. There was no resemblance between the Bethany in her arms and the decaying body that lay on the bed, smothered by the woolen blankets.
“I thought I would never see you again,” Bethany mumbled into Giovanna's neck.
“I am here now, but we have to leave. Are you ready to go?” Giovanna asked, putting Bethany down. Bethany jerked her head up and down, a defiant smile lighting up her face. “Then let’s go.”
Giovanna moved to the far end of the room and, waved her hand before a bare wall. A stone archway emerged, tall and wide. Deep, rolling mist filled the entrance so thick that nothing of what lay beyond could be discerned. Three blue orbs danced tirelessly and chased each other through the vapour at the apex of the archway. Giovanna turned to hold out her hand. Bethany took it and fell in step besides her older sister.
“How did you know I wanted to leave?” Bethany asked, tilting her head back in order to see Giovanna's face.
“I heard you calling from the other side.” Giovanna smiled down at Bethany.
“Is that where we are going now?”
“Yes.”
Bethany looked straight at the archway, hoping to get a glimpse at what lay beyond. The mist was too thick, spilling out over the floor and snaking up the walls in long tendrils. She could see nothing and was left disappointed. Giovanna saw the doubt creeping into her younger sister’s face and let go of her hand to kneel in front of her. Hooking a finger under Bethany's chin, she gently twisted her face around so that Bethany's eyes met her own.
“I will be with you every step of the way, Beth,” Giovanna said with a soft, reassuring smile.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Bethany flung her arms around Giovanna's shoulders and hugged her tight. “I've missed you so much!”
Giovanna welcomed the sentiment and returned the hug with fondness. “I've missed you, too.” She untangled herself from Bethany's iron neck-lock. “Listen, we have little time to favour, so if we are going to leave, we must depart now. We cannot tarry.” Giovanna pushed herself up off her knees and faced the archway. Bethany took a firm hold of her sister's hand and sighed nervously, eyeing the doorway to another, unknown life.
With undue resignation, Bethany closed her eyes and walked into the mist, pulling Giovanna along behind her. For brief seconds at a time, Bethany would open her eyes to look around. Shrouded within the mists, she could not tell where she was going or where she had come from. She continued walking through the choking veil until she could take no more; beset by a malevolent fear, she let go of Giovanna's hand and stalled. Squeezing her eyes tighter shut and refusing to open them, the voice in Bethany's head shouted with a frightful alarm. Run! Run to wherever! Just don’t look back! She whimpered, feeling a gentle weight pressing down on her small shoulders. A soft, warm whisper brushed by her ear.
“Fear not, little one. You have committed yourself to the hardest part and prevailed. Open your eyes.”
Bethany fought against the stronghold of terror that had immobilized her so far, and ever so slightly, cracked one eye open. Both her eyes fluttered wide when she saw Giovanna looking down at her, smiling warmly, her hands resting on her small shoulders. The voice in her head abruptly seized its incoherent warnings and calmness returned. Bethany did not return Giovanna's smile, however, as she was momentarily distracted by her new surroundings.
Her dark, amethyst eyes wandered to the slate coloured sky from where a gentle drift of snow fell, but then something in the not too farther distance caught at her attention, also. Before craggy walls of blackened glassy rock, tremendous stalagmites of frosted ice jutted up from the frozen earth in beautiful, shining spirals. Trapped beneath the ice, bleak and depressing faces stared out across the land with cold and heartless eyes. Bethany sucked in a sharp b
reath and recoiled when she realized they were staring directly at her.
Badly jolted, she grabbed at Giovanna's overcoat, hiding behind her arm. “Who are they? What happened to them? Why are they looking at me?” She squealed.
“They are the Lost Souls, the newly dead who never found their own passage across the ocean and became trapped here,” Giovanna answered with a grim expression. She wrangled her arm free of Bethany's anxious grasp and slid it round her shoulders. “Do not worry, they will not harm us. They cannot. They do not look at you but to the land that has them trapped here for eternity.”
Giovanna felt the tension release from Bethany's shoulders. “How did they become trapped?”
“They lingered here for too long, which, if we do the same, it shall happen to us.” Giovanna decided against going into detail. She did not want to scare Bethany, rather, she wanted to motivate her into moving, as the threat was very real and their time was starting to run short. Giovanna turned and pointed to the west. “There lies our way out.”
The flat, stalagmite-studded land nearby dropped away to become a vast sapphire ocean littered with ice caps that bobbed up and down on its placid surface. Bethany followed Giovanna's direction and looked to the west. A dark figure loomed against the wintry backdrop, bestowed upon a small, frozen harbor. Moored by the dock was an unworthy looking sloop, its neglected sail rippling in the bitter winds.
The closer the sisters got to the harbour, the more Bethany realised that the mysterious figure had a sublime green aura, highlighting the large black wings that arched high above his head. She became distracted when the wind plunged to a new extreme low. It tore at the sisters in a fierce barrage, threatening to tear them from their feet and send them hurtling backwards. Bethany struggled to keep her footing, feeling her feet slip on the hard ground, inch by inch. The snow came down with fury, making it near impossible to see but a foot ahead. Bethany had lost sight of Giovanna.
