Frightful Tales #1: Rose's Thorn

by Wesley Thomas

  Then shone the dining room, which was the size of an apartment, with a long wooden table that seated twenty, and the ability to be stretched out further to accommodate thirty. The cream coated walls were dust and dirt free, not a crack or imperfection lay in sight. Deirdra couldn't help but feel out of place, but Elizabeth dragged her in to take a look at the food, showing nothing but excitement. On the table was a row of delectable treats, from freshly picked fruit from their humongous garden, to pies and pastries, sandwiches, fish food, various meats and cheeses, and a few bottles of wine.

  “Oh my God, Elizabeth, what have you....” Deirdra suddenly lost her trail of thought.

  “You like it?” Elizabeth giggled like a little school girl.

  “I love, how did you get things done so fast?” Deirdra's mouth hung agape.

  “I had coffee,” both Elizabeth and Deirdra laughed at that remark.

  Declan was always confused about adults and coffee, it gave them energy, but the energy was short lived. Wouldn't they be better eating a banana or a carbohydrate-heavy food for tonnes of energy that would slowly dwindle throughout the day, rather than a short burst that caused jitters and nervousness? He critisized. So many teachers at his school had really bad coffee breath, if you were within a few steps radius of them, the ghastly reek of the hot beverage almost made you choke, being forced down your throat, and stinging your nostrils. Not to mention their yellow stained teeth.

  But then he remembered a woman in the supermarket being in the middle of a conversation about the weight gaining side effect of carbohydrates, and coffee sped up a person's metabolism.

  You just can't win! Thank the heavens I am not a woman! He shook his head.

  “Obviously the wine is not for you kids, I have some smoothies for you to drink, but as for the food. Dig in!” Elizabeth was like a young child announcing a game of hide and seek.

  The children instantly began eating like starved cavemen.

  “Seriously, this is too much, all this food looks amazing, thank you so much,” Deirdra was in awe.

  “Oh it is no problem, truth be told, I have been thinking about my mother a lot of late, since.... you know... and this, as well as other projects, provides a nice distraction,” Elizabeth straightened her blouse.

  “Oh I had no idea I am so sor-” Deirdra was quickly cut off by a raised hand from Elizabeth.

  “Nonsense, now let's enjoy a nice catch up shall we?” Elizabeth grabbed Deirdra's hand as if they were teenage girls going away to gossip. The kids had piled their plates like mini mountains, having to hold the food in place.

  “Are you two storing for winter or something?” Deirdra joked.

  Emily smiled politely, then turned to her mother, “Mum, can we eat upstairs please, in my room, we will eat on my dining table, I just want to play and watch TV as well.”

  Elizabeth tutted and turned her head to Deirdra suggesting through a look that said 'bloody kids eh?'

  “Yes, but make sure you do eat on the table, try not to get too many crumbs on the carpet young lady,” her eyebrows raised.

  “Thanks mum.”

  “Thanks Mrs Clarimonde,” Declan butted in.

  “You are very welcome young man. Have fun,” Elizabeth said as they disappeared out the room and headed upstairs.

  “Emily has a dining table in her room?” Deirdra's mouth made an 'O'.

  “Yes, she was getting crumbs on the carpet from snacks and sweets, and the cleaning lady, Rosa, was sick of it.”

  “So you bought her a dining table?” she smirked.

  “Oh it's not that big, just a little table to seat six.”

  “More than Declan's got,” Deirdra coerced a smile, and masked more bitterness.

  “So, how about some wine?” Elizabeth winked, unaware of Deirdra's well disguised jealousy.

  “Why did you want to play up here anyway Declan? We could have played in the living room?” Emily curiously asked.

  “I wanted to play up here, play with your dolls and not have my mum see,” Declan felt that provided a sufficient alibi to want to come upstairs, but he would soon need a reason to leave the room, with his backpack.

  “But I thought your mum didn't mind as much? Thought it was just your dad?” Emily asked, frowning.

  “Well, I just don't want to put my mum in an uncomfortable position that's all.”

  “Okay. Oh and how is Rose?” she asked, while cramming a sandwich into her mouth.

  Declan’s heart pummelled right away, and drove his senses into a chaotic frenzy. Within seconds his face had adapted an anxious warmth and took on a red glow. Pressure was sending his heart rate into aeroplane-like speeds, his engines at their peak.

  “Fine, good, thanks again,” Declan muttered, also cycling food in his mouth.

  “You are welcome, glad you are having fun with her,” Emily smiled, with such a genuine happiness for her best friend. Declan couldn't help but feel intense remorse. But he had a mission, and now was the perfect time, while Elizabeth and his mother chatted away, with the help of the social lubricant known as alcohol.

  Declan gulped, trying relentlessly to shrug off seemingly endless pouts of guilt, “Can I go to the toilet?”

  “Course you can silly,” Emily chuckled, whilst slurping juice.

  Declan stood, with the blue backpack on his shoulders.

  “Don't you want to take the bag off first?” Emily asked.

  Dammit, Declan thought, hands trembling.

  Chapter 8

  “Erm... nope... I kind of like wearing this bag,” he said with his back to Emily, creasing his face in agitation.

  “Oh okay, you big weirdo,” she teased.

  Declan turned and laughed back, then continued out of the room and down one of the many hallways.

  This house is like a maze. He struggled remembering which room the main bathroom was, not to mention an almost uncountable number of bedrooms, all with en-suites. He gently tiptoed down the hallways and tried door after door looking for the largest bedroom, that would no doubt be Paul and Elizabeth's. After the twentieth door he tried he opened into a room that was the absolution of the word beautiful. Perfection shone from every crevice. A huge master bed with golden bedposts, a vanity table, a desk scattered with papers which was no doubt Paul's, an Ottoman at the bottom of the bed, and several lamps and lights hanging from walls and resting on bedside tables. On the wall behind the bed were several photographs and paintings, all in huge magnificently sculptured frames, that each had a small spotlight above it, which no doubt looked brilliant on an evening. But Declan for some reason was drawn to the chair that was under the vanity table, it looked as if it was wearing a wedding dress. The chair was pure white with a cushion on the actual seat and the back rest, and a white frilled material hanging from the bottom of the chair looping around it. Each individual item was utter brilliance, it was a shame he had to hurry, he could've stayed in this room and observed its beauty for hours, maybe even days. The bed, he just noticed was on a raised wooden platform separate to the rest of the room. It went from a sandy coloured carpet, to a wooden pedestal for the bed. There were two doors sandwiching the bed between them, Declan presumed it was maybe two en-suites? Maybe storage? Could be a number of things in this manor. His inner childish tendencies were surfacing, no longer was he a boy with the mind of a wise old man, he was now a curious kid, tempted to see what was behind each door. So he gently tinkered to the left door first. He grabbed onto its smooth gold handle, pushed down, and pulled open an eruption of more white.

  A huge bathtub, very wide sink, toilet, separate walk-in shower in a large cube, and white painted wooden shelves with shaving products on one side, and beauty products such as moisturiser and various creams, on the other. Declan had to fight the continually growing urge to yell 'WOW' but he suppressed it, as was gradually becoming his forte. Time being against him he quickly stepped backwards and headed for the next door.

  When he opened this one he faced a long hall which is what he presumed was a
walk-in wardrobe. He had never seen one before, in the flesh, only on television and in films. It was very long and narrow with a metal pole running down each side, one with women's clothes, the other with men’s, and at the end was a tall stack of drawers. Captivated; he continued to walk onwards to the drawers, as he did this he noticed the walk-in didn't end there, two walls continued to each side of the drawers, a corridor to the left and one to the right. Jesus, how big is this house! He was in amazement. Down each corridor he could see shoes stored neatly on several shelves, and sculptures from art exhibitions stood in their marvellous-ness. He wondered for a moment why these breath-taking renderings were kept in seclusion, away from compliments and admirations, which would no doubt stir up jealousy from the snobby rich people who Elizabeth often entertained. Then he flashed back to Elizabeth telling his mother that she had a job at an art gallery, and often stored various artworks and distributed them to the successful bidders. But also on occasion held art exhibitions in her home. But for security reasons kept them from plain sight. With as much space as she had in this enormous house it made sense. But then his attention shrunk from the vast collection of designer clothing and valuable art pieces, to the drawers, where he hoped secrets would be kept.

  So drawer by drawer he rummaged, neatly, to avoid an obvious disarrangement that no doubt Paul or Elizabeth would detect. The bottom one held papers, letters and bills tidily stacked in piles, then envelopes, folders labelled 'tax, accountant, bills, medical, insurance' in other words, boring grown up stuff. So he moved up to the next shelf where there were bright and colourful underwear, which he had no interest in at all, so up he went to the next storage drawer. Now this one had small artistic items, and miniature hand sized sculptures that could be placed on tables. Interesting to look at but he didn't have time to admire, he was a boy with a plan. Time was of the essence, and the essence was fading alarmingly fast.

  The drawer above was full of soft cashmere jumpers. Seriously? This is getting very monotonous, Declan stamped. His rare childish habits once again taking hold. Usually his patience was an everlasting pool of calmness, but in today's haste, the pool was being emptied by a huge pipe, the water being drained, the water level decreasing, forbearance dissolving. He slammed it shut, but as he did some solid object tapped the drawer's front panel.

  How is that so? It was only full of jumpers, they would definitely not make that sound. He re-opened and clawed his way through the soft silkiness and found a black wooden chest, about the size of a portable computer, with the depth of a few inches. He delicately pulled it from the clutches of softness and rested it on the floor. He shut the drawer slowly, but firmly. He opened the chest very cautiously, suddenly very aware that soon Emily would come to see what was going on, and when she received no answer from the bathroom, that would no doubt warrant an investigation. So he added urgency to the mix of motivations driving him onward on his road of research, and continued to open his box of wonders. A repugnance instantly wafted out of the chest and stung Declan's nose, so much so he turned his head in repulsion and coughed. After a pretty heavy cough he heard Elizabeth shout upstairs to Emily.

  “Hey, how are you two doing up there?”

  “Fine mum,” Emily replied, clearly bored of her mother constantly asking the question every day of her life, not always you 'two' but always, are you okay? How are you doing? Emily was sick of it, but knew it was a sign that she cared, so she dealt with it. After all, she supposed it was better than Declan's living situation.

  “Have you seen my silk slippers, the purple ones?”

  “Rosa put them in your room I think,” Emily shouted down.

  Then Declan almost yelped as he heard footsteps ascending the staircase.

  CRAP!

  Elizabeth paced up the stairs and down a couple of hallways to her bedroom, to see that the door was open. She guessed it was Rosa who had left it open, but that was not like her, and Rosa left this morning. Maybe all the stress of exhibitions and dinner parties are getting to me, Elizabeth rubbed her head. But, she could see her comfy purple slippers poking out from under her bed like light at the end of her tunnel.

  “There you are,” she muttered, eager to step out of the ankle-aching heels and into the comfort of soft, padded slippers.

  Declan tried his best to breathe slowly and quietly, he lay under the bed looking at the feet of Elizabeth. No wonder she wanted to wear slippers, the heels she was wearing looked very uncomfortable, yet another mystery of the female psyche. But then the shoes began moving towards him. His eyes ransacked the surroundings from his floor level vision and to his fright saw the slippers she had shouted up to Emily about, laying only a few inches from Declan. Acting fast he squirmed backwards but still kept his ultimate goal of remaining incognito. The feet moved closer and closer to the bed, until they stepped onto the wooden platform and the heels clattered with each step until they stopped a few inches from the slippers. Oh no! What if she bends down to get them! Declan began to panic, the sound of his over-active heart thudding loudly throughout his body. The internal sound of his core booming only heightened his pang. How would he explain this? He prepared for plan B, to detail why he was there. He could say he'd seen something that scared him? He was looking for something? He dropped a toy under the bed? But then why was he in the bedroom? He saw her hand reach down and grab her right shoe, yanking it off with a pleasant moan, finally freeing her feet. She repeated the same action with her left, followed by another 'Ahhhh', leaving two pale, smooth, flawless feet completely bare. Until she wiggled them into the caress of the slippers. Then she strolled away and closed the door.

  His breathing dropped almost instantly to a much calmer, more human rate. He wiped away beads of sweat from his forehead and crawled cautiously from under the bed. He was then stood with his backpack still strapped onto his back, which held the black chest. He was dying to open it and explore further, but for now he knew he must suck in his urges as if sucking in a bloated stomach at a beach, and continue playing with Emily to reduce the likelihood of anymore suspicion.

  As he was about to leave, the sun splashed a ray into his peripheral vision from the full length windows at the far end of the bedroom. Which he soon realised weren't full length windows, but a double glass door which lead to a balcony. Declan knew he should leave immediately, but was unable to walk away. He gawked through the glass, admiring the view. It had a table with four chairs, and a few tall flowers, with the railing continuing the theme of early Egyptian and being made of gold. He was drawn to the balcony by an intense desire, as if an invisible force was luring him. The view was a photographer's heaven, and a landscape artist's dream. A view of trees and houses all perfectly placed, the sun highlighting everything with a mighty glow as if it had been altered with computer editing software. But this was nature, at its best. A collage of large homes all uniquely built and designed, spread amongst grass and bushes, with sloped hills in the horizon. Clouds were far and few between, small tufts of white candy floss on a blue wall, moving leisurely but indefinitely. He was completely taken aback by such a sight, waking up to that every morning must be a hell of a way to motivate someone into getting out of bed. Enjoy breakfast on the balcony and take in the scenery. He couldn't imagine ever tiring of a vision such as that, he prayed he would at least have a viewpoint like this from his future home when he grows up, even if he didn't have a large house, he just wanted a spectacular view. But on the floor of the balcony something ruined the picture, a small doll stood staring with vengeance and fury. Rose.

  He was lost in a sea of evil, his heart once again was shifted into the highest gear possible without dying. His speed of breathing kept him so close to death's door, but not actually going through it. She stood looking straight towards him, a creature raised from a muddy grave, or wherever his mother had put her shattered remains. His lips stood still, his eyes stretched open across the entirety of his upper head, and his hands shook like branches caught in a storm.

  “Declan, you okay?�
� Emily shouted.

  His head jolted to the bedroom door in a fit of panic.

  “Yeah, one minute I'm coming,” he replied, woozy, lungs ablaze.

  He turned back to the balcony to see Rose was no longer there. Had he imagined it? Had it been Rose haunting his brain? Or his ability to project visual illusions becoming more vivid? Or had it been fact, and actually happened. He would rather it have been his skull's muscle, but he knew he did see her, in the flesh, so to speak. She was back. Somehow she had repaired herself from several hundred fragments of porcelain, and was whole again, for Declan.

  Declan walked through Emily's bedroom door looking shocked and pale from a fresh injection of abhorrence.

  “You sure you're okay? You look terrified,” Emily asked, worried.

  “Yeah, I just feel a bit ill, that's all,” Declan was beginning to become very adept at plucking excuses and lies from thin air. His mouth would answer before the wheels of his brain even began to turn. Which he had to admit annoyed him. His father was a compulsive liar. Almost every sentence that slurred from his mouth was an untruth. He detested having anything in common with David.

  “Oh okay, you best just drink the smoothie and have sandwiches, no more fishy stuff,” she laughed.

  “Okay sergeant,” Declan teased.

  “I was about to send a search and rescue party out for you,” Emily laughed hysterically at her own joke.

  This tickled Declan and stress brushed from his insides and blew away out of his orifices into the air, like a whale expelling a huge amount of water. She always knew how to make him laugh.