I blanch. He’s never used that sort of language with me.
“You tell me”, I say with a tone of authority, “it was behind the dresser in your room.”
I can see a flash of indignation in his pale blue eyes at the thought of me rummaging through his things but the look quickly vanishes.
He’s fidgeting now, clearly aware he’s been caught and this time there will be severe consequences.
I stare at him, praying there is some other explanation rather than the situation that is playing out in my head.
My beautiful boy, who I’ve rared alone since his father passed a decade ago, my rock. The boy who would sing the alphabet to me so sweetly and could never quite get his R’s out smoothly and we’d laugh and I’d tell him to never change.
That boy is across from me now, hood up, staring at the table.
I had known something wasn’t right in the last few weeks but I had never suspected this. How did I not see this coming? Had it been my fault for not paying more attention?
“What are you going to do Mam?”
What a good question. What am I going to do?
I sigh and reach across the table for his hands. He gives them to me quickly.
“Don’t worry,” I say rubbing his hands in mine, they’ve gotten so big. When did this happen?
“Im your mother, I will take care of all of it.”
Pain before the peace.
I sit and stare as my body betrays me.
Invisible to my peers, ever present discomfort like a smouldering fire inside.
Mindfulness only draws attention to the tingles and spasms so I focus outward towards the sunrise.
A deep breath.
This moment too will pass, as time races forward.
I wish for both a stand still of time to appreciate the world’s beauty but also for time to hurry on so that the symptoms will pass.
I feel invisible as I see the sunrise burn red.
The summer breeze rattled the old farmhouse door as Edith sat frozen in place at the foot of the stairs. She had sat here many times as a child waiting for her mother to be ready to leave for school or to go shopping or to church.
Now she sat with moist eyes thinking about how she would never wait for her mother again.
Even though it hadn’t been a shock, infact quite the opposite, she could still feel her heart whirring with the feeling of sudden overpowering emptiness. This house, which had been a hive of nurses, family and sympathetic visitors for the last few months would now sit empty. There was no market for such a property if she could even bring herself to sell it. Everything here was dead now in some respects.
Leaning onto one arm, Edith slowly peeled herself from the bottom step and stood shakily. She took a deep breath and pulled open the front door. Bathed in the low orange, but yet still intensely warm sunlight of the evening sky, she made her way across the drive. Kicking off her shoes, she entered the wildflower field.
With her face tilted upwards and her eyes closed as if breathing in the final life of the day’s sun, she traced her hands along the tops of each flower making her way deeper into the field. The soil contrasted cool to the warm sun on her face.
She yearned to feel alive. To feel connected. She needed it. She was like a helium baloon that had been detached and she could feel herself ascending. She needed an anchor. This field with the flowers her mother had loved for they were wild and free just like her.
This place was her anchor.
The car grinds to a halt. Tyra breathes steadily. He doesn’t realise who he’s messed with. She set this up though. This is what she wanted.
It hadn’t been difficult for the news headlines to peak her interest over the last month. Nine bodies, all young college students around her age. She had decided it would have been neglectful of her peers to not do something. All of these young women had been from her side of the city.
It was a local problem. A problem that she was going to solve tonight.
Over the last week she had studied the cases and found it should be easy enough to use herself as bait for this disgustingly cliché predator who was accosting young blonde women as they walked home alone.
How very gut wrenchingly simple she had thought.
It had only taken two and a half evenings of strolling around Dublin’s inner north city with her newly bleached hair and sporting the tightest fitting tracksuit she owned before she felt him lurking behind her. She had been sure to have her AirPods visible in her ears so that he would deduce she was not aware of his advance.
She had put up a good plausible fight when he lunged at her from behind. Some would say a very good fight for that of an average woman her age. Not for Tyra though. She was saving herself for when they were alone.
When she had him alone.
Now the boot clunks open and she is blinded by a stream of light. A hand grabs her arm and yanks her out onto a dark derelict road. No street lights, no buildings, surrounded by feilds to the left and a steep hill to the right which is smothered in overgrown bushes. Wicklow she decides given the duration of the drive and her assessment of the surroundings.
Holding onto the ropes around her wrists as to give to illusion she remains tied up, she is dragged towards the side of the car.
Before he has time to make another move, Tyra has whipped the ropes around to form a garotte and loops it around his neck. She pulls hard and he calapses to the ground with surprising ease.
She is so good at this. This is what she was born for.
When he wakes he is tied to the front passenger seat using knots that even a sailor would have trouble undoing though she thinks it probably unnecessary.
Their eyes meet. Tyra smiles.
“Now, you’re coming home with me”
The sun burns my nose as I hurry out the school gate. It’s not quite summer break yet but the weather is already gearing up for the long days of carefree grazing in the park with friends discussing hot boys, debating stupid reality tv and bitching about controlling parents.
I glance behind me to make sure no one has noticed my escape. I have been careful not to move too quickly as I don’t want to attract attention but now my pace quickens until I’m jogging as I head into the football pitches in the park adjacent to the school.
Stopping at a tree to catch my breath, I turn to see if there’s any sign behind me that I have been noticed. No movements. No sounds. Freedom!
Grabbing my bag from my back and swinging it around to my front, I open the front pocket and remove a packet of cigarettes. Popping one in my mouth I fumble for my lighter.
I sit down on a patch of sunny grass and light the cigarette. I inhale deeply and lie back, blowing smoke into the sky above me. Watching the sparse clouds creep slowly across the sky and thinking how this moment couldn’t be any more perfect, I suddenly hear a ping as my phone goes off in my pocket.
A text - “why are you not in school?”
My heart thumps. Summer was good while it lasted.
I blink. I’m not sure if she heard me.
Her red hair dances in the evening’s summer breeze as she stares out onto the crystal blue lake. The water reflects in her piercing green eyes, which moments ago had been fixed on me expectantly. I notice they’ve started to fill with tears.
“Oh god, please don’t cry Sades…”
She turns to face me now. Her face has suddenly transformed to pure rage. Her green eyes flashing red with fire. Fear engulfs me.
“Don’t you dare call me that! You’re a joke! I said I love you Andrew! But this… this..” she trails off. She can’t bring herself to say it. To be honest I am not sure how I even had the courage to say it.
She stands. I stand. Is she going to leave? I’m afraid to move a muscle. She goes to walk away. Stops. Turns. The world stands still.
She points a finger at me as if she’s about to tell off a bold child but instead of words all that leaves her lips is a frustrated grunt. She throws her arms up “Oh my god, what is wrong with me! How did I not see this coming! You’re a bloody fool Sadie Turner! A fool!”
Then she starts to laugh. I’m still frozen to the spot. She’s pacing around in circles. Laughing maniacally. I start to worry she is having some sort of mental break. Maybe I should call someone, I think.
Suddenly she’s back. Face clear. No tears. No Anger. No laughing.
Her eyes are locked into mine now. As if she is asking me something without saying anything. Does she want me to say it again? Every fiber of my being is telling me to look away. Run away. Aw please don’t make me say it again. I had promised myself when the time came I’d be a man about this. So here goes nothing.
“I love me too, we should start a fan club!”
God. I am a fucking child.
She grunts again and lets out a slight frustrated scream, turns and she’s gone. She strides up the path swinging her arms angrily and her feet thumping on the pavement louder than is deemed necessary in my opinion.
I sigh as I turn to look out to the water. It’s so relaxing here, I think. I take in a deep breath of the fresh air and smile.
She’ll be back, I think. She’ll definitely be back.
All I can hear is the crunch of the dirty old gravel as I make my way up the drive towards the delapadated old manor. I have no interest in being here, this place holds too many memories of childhood. A time I’d rather forget. I’m here to meet the realtor and finally get this place shifted off the estate’s books. In and out, that’s the plan.
As I turn the key in the lock I feel a sudden chill run up my spine. Against all of my instincts telling me to turn and run, I push open the old door. Dust fills my nose as I enter the foyer. I’ll wait here, I think to myself, no need to venture any further than I have to. I stare around taking in how much the place has changed from the days of myself, Lou and Mol tearing down the stairs, through the dining room and out the kitchen door onto the back lawn that led down to the woods.
The woods. A small gasp catches in my throat as I think about the woods and the last time the three of us ventured there. Only one to return.
I shake my head trying to clear the haunting remembrance. In and out. I’m not being pulled back to 20 years ago now.
Then I hear it. Footsteps upstairs on the landing. “Hello?” I call into the echoing empty house.
The footsteps continue across the floor above me.
Ok, I think, I’ve seen enough horror movies to guess where this is going. I decide to wait outside for the realtor. I turn to pull the door open but it’s not cooperating. It’s an old door, I think, it’s just jammed. I give it a good push and then a pull…. Nothing.
More footsteps. Louder.
The kitchen door, I decide. I have a key for that on the keyring with me. I make my way briskly through the dining room, my gait more unsteady than I’d like given the sudden rush of adrenaline. I am trying not to take in more of the space than I have to in order to make my way to the kitchen. I pull open the kitchen door and I’m out on to the back lawn.
The bright sun hits me hard as I step on to the grass. Everything looks the same. Nothing seems to have changed. The grass is cut. Hedged manicured. Even the old shed looks kept just as it was.
Then I see something that makes my blood run cold.
I see Lou standing at the edge of the tree line of the woods staring at me. She holds my gaze for what feels like an eternity and then turns and runs into the thick wood.
Before I can even think of what I’m doing, I’m running after her. Just like I did on that day. I’m panting, swotting back tree branches and flies as they obscure my view of Lou winding her way through the trees. I bash back a large leafy branch and burst into a clearing.
Molly and Louise sit stoic on a fallen tree trunk, their eyes dilated and fixed. Then in unison they lift their left arms and point towards a hallowed out tree.
“Get in” they say together in monotone.
Oh god I think, not again.
Sand whispers across the baron landscape, dancing into the hot air and twisting around itself dizzingly.
The sun, now low in the sky, has finished toasting the earth for another day and is setting the scene for a cold night during which only the haunting howl of coyotes and the melodic chirp of crickets will be heard echoing across the dunes and down through the canyons. The skys will alight with mesmorising galactical sights. Stars popping against the pitch black sky.
Although there seems to be no life here.
There is life.
Quiet yet noisy.
Calm yet busy.
Desolate yet teeming.
Sun rises.
Bright pink reaching towards the sun. Dreams. Aspirations.
Day crescendos.
Hot. Flourescent. Thriving. Dancing in the wind.
Bees flutter. Busy. Collecting, spreading life.
Light begins to fade.
Leaves sag. Content. Slight tussle together in the evening breeze.
Nightfall.
Lifefall. Sleep roses. Sleep.
