by R. L. Weeks
“Grandma, I’m Pierce.” My voice trembled, and I did my best to keep it from cracking.
She turned and started up the grand staircase leading to the second-floor bedrooms.
“Grandma, who did Jackson leave with?” I grabbed my jacket from the hook on the wall and prepared to head back outside into the woods to look for my sister.
“Some boy from school. Nice boy,” she said, waving me off. She turned the corner at the landing and was out of sight.
My sister was reckless, but she had really outdone herself this time. Lightning cracked and thunder boomed outside. I needed to find my sister fast.
Chapter Eight
Jackson
A sliver of moonlight crept between the trees, washing us in white-silvery glow. “Thanks for coming by,” I told Tommy. His hand was inches from mine, on the dirt. I gripped my nails into the ground, reminding myself I needed to get a manicure. Could I even afford a manicure?
“What’s on your mind?” Tommy asked, his lips formed in a semi-permanent smirk.
I half-smiled. “Something superficial.” I lifted my hand. “Thinking about getting a manicure,” I admitted sheepishly.
He shrugged. “You’re a girl. Girls think about that sort of stuff.”
I was grateful he wasn’t judgy. “So…” I said, filling the silence. “How are you liking school?”
“It’s fine.”
I pressed my lips together. “Where did you move from?”
“Connecticut,” he said quickly, without diverting his gaze from the full moon.
Lightning cracked through the sky, and the fog surrounded us. “I love thunderstorms,” I admitted. “I hope it rains.”
He breathed in deeply. “It does smell like rain.”
I laughed. “You can smell rain?”
“You can’t?”
“I guess I never spent too much time in nature.”
His hand slid closer, finally. His fingers linked with mine. “I love being in the present. I have to remind myself to put my phone down, disconnect from the virtual and appreciate what’s around me.”
“Very profound.”
He nudged me. “Don’t tease.”
I flushed red. “I really wasn’t. It really is.”
He turned his head to face me. We were sitting on a slight hill at the edge of the forest. The thunder and swirling sky made me feel weirdly at home. I looked into his honey-brown eyes. My heartbeat quickened. “Do you miss home?”
“Not really.”
“I do,” I said tearily. I didn’t want to bring down the mood, but I needed to feel sad with someone. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t even here.”
His smile dropped, and concern etched its way into his expression. “Why?”
“Just had a lot happen recently.”
His almond-shaped eyes softened. “Tell me. I’m a good listener.”
“It’s a long story,” I said, trying to avoid the subject. I had stupidly brought it up in a moment of weakness.
“We have all night.” He squeezed my hand.
“WHAT THE HELL!”
We both jumped, unlinking our fingers. I turned around. My sister looked at us wild-eyed. I had never seen her so mad. “S-Sorry,” I stuttered.
“Don’t sorry me!” she shouted, her chest heaving as she looked at us both in turn. “You scared me! Get back home now. There’s a storm.”
Tommy chimed in, at an attempt of chivalry. “It’s my fault.”
“Don’t bother.” I put my finger up. “It doesn’t matter. She won’t understand.”
Pierce’s green eyes shone brightly in the moonlight. She looked dangerous, like she belonged to the forest, wild and untamed. It was unlike the Pierce I knew and loved. Usually I’d be defiant, but her manner forced me into submission. “I’m coming home. Sorry.”
She gave Tommy the evil eye before grabbing my arm and pulling me away. I looked back and shot him an apologetic look. Her grip tightened.
“You’re hurting me.” I grasped at her fingers, trying to pry them from my arm. Her nails dug in farther until they broke skin. “Please, Pierce!”
She finally stopped dragging me. When she let go of me, a huge shock rippled up my arm and through my body. I felt like I had been electrocuted.
“Ouch!” I squealed and rubbed my arm. “You’re scaring me.”
She took a step back, then looked at her hands. Her expression quickly softened and the fury in her eyes settled, like waves engulfed by the calm ocean.
Her words were barely audible as thick raindrops fell from the heavens. Water washed over my skin, drenching my clothes. The fierce winds made the drops feel like a thousand needles hitting me all at once. Pierce’s hair turned from red to almost black, like mine, as it soaked through. She searched my expression for forgiveness. I knew Pierce. She had never acted so out of character before.
“I love you,” I said, shocking myself at the words that spilled from my lips, but it felt like the right thing to say at the time.
Tears fell down her cheeks, mixing with the raindrops. She gazed at me through bloodshot eyes, then closed her eyes briefly. “I’m scared,” she admitted.
I couldn’t keep the surprise from my expression. Suddenly, the rain didn’t bother me anymore. Pierce was never scared. Her fear transcended my grief. She was unsteady. My rock was crumbling. The only steadiness in my life had come from her. She was the island in the middle of my raging ocean. My safe place. It had been washed away along with the mud under our feet. I had no words to say back to her. I wanted to comfort her, but I was always the one who was being comforted. Being on the other end of that felt alien to me.
I hadn’t realized I was shivering until then. The cold pierced through me. I looked at my sister for direction, but instead, she stood looking at me blankly. I guess I had to take charge for once. “Let’s get home,” I said softly and linked my arm with hers. “I’ll make us cocoa.”
The sky grumbled restlessly when we made it back to the manor. The fountain overflowed, replacing the green mossy water with fresh rainwater. The leaves were washed into piles, and the stone looked glossy from its wet coat. I looked up at the windows. I felt like a thousand eyes were on us, daring me to come inside. I dismissed the feeling and searched for inner strength. Pierce needed me, and for once, I could prove myself as a sister.
The double doors creaked open. Thunder boomed again as I closed them behind us, shielding us from the relentless weather. “Home,” I said with a frown. The smell of mildew hit my nostrils. I rubbed my eyes when the dust irritated them. “Let’s go to the kitchen.”
Pierce finally spoke. Her voice was cracked and soft. “Yes.”
She walked ahead of me, unspeaking. I followed her, looking around in the darkness. My stomach grumbled when we neared the kitchen, reminding me eating was important.
“Have you eaten?” I asked the back of her head.
“No.”
I bit my bottom lip. I wish I knew how to cook, but it had always been done for us. “I miss Mrs. Gomez,” I said, referring to our cook. She made the best food ever.
Pierce didn’t reply. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we reached the awful, duck-egg-blue kitchen with cabinets that looked like they had been pulled right out of a Victorian novel.
I pulled my knees to my chest, shivering as I searched for warmth in my wet clothes. I wrung out the sleeves of my cashmere sweater. It was ruined now. No dry cleaner could fix this mess.
Pierce pottered around the kitchen, her entire focus in making us something edible. The smell of hot cocoa calmed my nerves. How could I bring up anything that had happened tonight? Pierce’s breakdown, the electric shock that went through my body… I must’ve been delirious because I swear Pierce had made it happen. And poor Tommy. I doubted he would want to see me again after the insane show back in the forest. He was probably running as fast as he could away from me and my crazy sister. I did feel bad though. She was clearly going through a lot of pressure and had snapped. I didn’
t know how to help her, so I figured the best thing to do was act as normally as possible, as if nothing had happened.
I pulled up my sleeve while Pierce wasn’t looking and examined the marks from her nails. It wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. They were red and a little bruised, but there was no blood. My skin hadn’t even broken.
She turned, holding a white mug on a little plate. Cocoa swam inside the cup, inviting me with its smell. Little marshmallows floated on top. “Thanks.”
I slowly brought the cup to my icy lips, then sipped. I snuggled into the warmth of the liquid traveling down my throat and savored the taste. “Mmm. This is so good.”
“I got it from town, a local store.” She sounded a little less meek and more like herself now.
“We need to get more.”
She nodded as she took a seat across from me at the round, oak table. The chair screeched as she moved herself closer to it.
The oven creaked when the heat reached its maximum. She side-eyed the old stove. “It’s just chicken and fries.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “I’m starving.”
“Me too.”
***
After we finished eating, I left to go to my room. Neither Pierce nor I had brought up what had happened out in the forest. I think she wanted to forget about it, and honestly, so did I. I didn’t like seeing my sister like that. It frightened me.
I rubbed my arm and hissed as a sharp pain ran to my fingertips. “I need to a bath,” I said aloud, to no one in particular. Looking around the large empty space, I realized how alone I felt. I reached the top of the stairs and came face-to-face with a huge painting of a joker. His face was creepy, his skin sunken, and his eyes a bright yellow like sirens calling in the night. I shuddered and turned away from it, but as I walked past it, in my peripheral vision, I could swear his eyes were following me. The hallway to my room was pitch black. What if someone is behind me? I jumped and whipped my head around. My heart was thumping. Why did I do that to myself? Enough, brain. As if I was my own worst enemy, every horrific creature or ghost from horror movies I had watched surfaced in my mind. Every book I had read with creepy things in it came to the forefront of my head. Soon enough, evil things were creeping out from behind doors and slinking into the shadows. I half-expected to see something standing in the bathroom with water dripping from a pipe behind it when I passed the bathroom.
I blinked twice. There was nothing there, but logic had no place in the dark corridor. I hurried when I saw my door and lunged for the handle. I pushed it open, then scrambled to find the light switch. As soon as the light flickered on, I breathed a sigh of relief. I slammed the door behind me and attempted to catch my breath. I swear I heard footsteps outside my door. I wasn’t naive enough to check. Instead, I told myself it was my imagination and slunk under my covers. I fumbled for my phone. No Wi-Fi meant it was useless, but it was at least a light source in case the lights went out. I’d heard the power cuts out in the house sometimes, and I did not want to be awake when it happened… or without a phone or flashlight. The house screamed haunted. If Dad were here, he would laugh at me for being so ridiculous.
I held my breath. It felt like I had been punched in the gut. Bile rose in my throat. I pulled the covers off myself again and looked around the dusty room. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes. Dad was gone. He was really gone forever. The permanence of it hadn’t sunk in. With being in a new town, a new house, and meeting Tommy, I had almost forgotten to grieve. I felt incredibly selfish. How could I forget to mourn my parents’ deaths?
I guess it hadn’t felt real. Childishly, a small part of me believed this nightmare would end and somehow we would get a call saying it had been a joke or they had faked their deaths—something that explained what had happened. There was no way I would believe Dad had killed himself and Mom.
My hand flung to my mouth, covering my gasp. Seeing the blood covering the room, the empty look in my parent’s eyes, and their cold, still bodies weaved through my thoughts leaving a poison in their trail, holding my thoughts in a death grip. My head felt tight, as if my brain might explode at any moment. I was a whirlwind of emotion, a volcano ready to erupt.
I couldn’t breathe properly. My vision blurred as tears streamed down my cheeks thick and fast. I choked on my sobs, spluttering and coughing as I attempted to breathe through my stuffy nose. The reality of their deaths haunted me like a part-time ghost. It had never quite sunk in, but it was always there in the background, hovering nearby waiting for a moment of silence or loneliness.
I would never be okay again. I couldn’t process anything that had gone on. Leaving New York had been enough to send me into a panic, but losing my family, Pierce hurting me earlier, and having no money or safety? Grandma hated us. I went from being Daddy’s princess to an unwanted orphan with a snap of my fingers.
Suddenly, the ghosts and ghouls from my imagination in the house faded to nothing. I wasn’t scared of anything because the worst had already happened.
The worst has happened.
Chapter Nine
Pierce
I was numb all over. I peeled my wet T-shirt off and flung it to the other side of the bathroom. I stared in the mirror at my naked, shivering self. I didn’t recognize my own reflection. Dark circles and pinched wrinkles shrouded my eyes. My green irises which had gleaned with gold flecks had dulled into a matte, mossy green. My thin lips were set into a frown, and my stare was pointed, intimidating enough that I had to look away from the mirror.
I couldn’t bear to look at myself. What had I become? Everything I had prided myself in had disappeared in the wind, leaving behind a woman I didn’t like.
Jackson… oh, poor Jackson. She must’ve been traumatized. I had lost all control. The thought of losing her and not being able to find her in the storm had warped me into temporary madness. Then there was the shock. Gah, that shock. She had felt it, and so had I. I had made it happen, but I had no idea how. Had a part of me wanted to punish her?
I sat on the toilet and rested my head in my palms. I pressed harder, hoping to squash the flurry of voices in my head. It was overwhelming. I couldn’t think. Everything was going too fast. The voices were getting louder, all mine. I was going insane.
I let out a whimper before slinking off the toilet and falling to my knees on the cold floor.
Another sob passed my lips.
“Pierce.”
Grandma’s voice cut through the swarming thoughts, quieting my mind enough for me to realize my current look. I covered my chest, then remembered Grandma was blind.
“Sorry if I woke you,” I mumbled. I must have been crying louder than I thought.
“Come with me.”
She tapped her cane on the floor and walked out of the bathroom. I followed her, grabbing my wet T-shirt as I did, then begrudgingly pulled it on. I was freezing cold.
She didn’t utter another word until we eventually reached a library. She pushed open the double doors, welcoming me to rows of dusty bookshelves and dim lighting from wall lamps. At the far end of the library were two loveseat-style couches. Spider webs wove around the lamps on the wall and over the grimy mirror hanging above the fireplace. I treaded over some paper left on the carpet, carpet that desperately needed a vacuum.
She stopped in front of a picture, feeling her way around the large frame. It clicked and swung back, revealing a safe. She turned the nob until the safe opened. It was old, unlike our parents’ safes at home.
Oh, home. How I missed home.
She took something out. It was small enough to be hidden between her hands. “Sit down,” she ordered.
Obediently, I sat. She took a seat across from me, leaving the safe wide open. She opened her hands, revealing a black-and-gold key. It was crafted in a Gothic style. I stared at it, wondering what the huge antique key could possibly open. “I have been listening to you since you arrived, sensing your movements, your emotions,” she said. “This key opens the room with the black door in the east wing.�
�
My heart fluttered. I remembered the black door from when I was a kid, when I had gotten lost and found myself wandering the forbidden east wing. I swear I had heard movement behind it before I was dragged away by Grandma, who had been frantic.
“Why are you showing it to me?’ I asked, my curiosity piqued.
“I want you to have it.”
I arched an eyebrow. She had gone from not wanting us here at all to suddenly giving me a key to a creepy mysterious door in the part of the manor I had been warned against going to.
“Why?”
“You have something, something others will want. It’s valuable.”
I looked at my necklace. “My necklace. It’s not very expensive, and I didn’t bring any other jewelry with me…”
“No.” Her voice was sharp. “Something more valuable than jewels or money.”
I looked from side to side, as if to share my bewilderment with the room. “What is it?”
“You will soon find out.”
A coldness tingled down my spine. I wanted the day to end. Too much had happened, and I felt like I could break at any moment.
“I don’t want it,” I said, feeling rebellious.
She shoved her hands forward, beckoning for me to take it. I sighed heavily and gave in. I took the key. It was heavier than I’d expected.
“What’s in the room?” I asked tentatively. “Please, Grandma.”
“Something you will need.”
She was being too damned mysterious.
“Thanks.” I shoved the key in my pocket, which was still damp. I had no plans on going to that room, and I could see I wasn’t going to get anything more out of Grandma. “I’m going to bed.”
“If the voices start again, try quietening your mind by burning some sage. They sell it in a store called Opal in town.”
“How did you know?”
She tapped the side of her head twice, then grabbed her cane and pulled herself up. “Do not leave the key unattended. Keep it on you at all times.”
