*٭ 𓆣 ₛₜₒᵣᵢₑₛ ₒF ₜₕₑ FₗY ₒₙ ₜₕₑ Wₐₗₗ𓆣٭ * [ₜₐₗₑ #₁]

˚₊‧꒰ა Grace ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

By Frederick

“It’s been a year since you moved , boxes are still unopened, left in the basement and spare rooms. It’s been quiet and calm in the new house, at least until now…

For the past 3 weeks you’ve been hearing things, seeing things out of the corner of your eye and waking up with bruises…You don’t believe in any of that crap, so there has to be a logical explanation.

Tonight, you set your laptop up to record overnight… “

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I’ve always worked best when I’m alone. With eyes burning dents into me the pressure makes itself known. So imagine my frustration at being unable to finalize my unpacking due to the gaze of…nothing. This house is secluded, surrounded merely by patchy grass and tiny stars. All lurkers and ongoers would have to steal or see are memories, tucked away in photographs and trinkets. The prior owner of this residence had joked briefly about magic happenings occurring long ago from this summer. I had felt mystic radiating, but I had believed it to be no more than my excitement coloring in what wasn’t there. Will such glamour make its way here?

The mere absurdity of entertaining such an idea made me pull grimaces. The unreal finding its way in my body, hiding in the corner of my eye and the crevice of my ear following my establishment made my chest tighten. Perhaps critters and pests thought it funny to disturb me. Maybe my sleepless nights unpacking were to blame. Whatever the reason, I refused to give into such silly illusions seeking to ruin my time off. Life has taught me gospel from falsehood. 

I force away the notion that the line separating the two could always be tampered with.

I continued to walk along the road of life, ignoring the small boxes left unopened in the attic. Now and again I’d peer up and stare at the miniature statues resting above the fireplace, trying to catch them in action. I wondered whether or not their gaze saw something I didn’t. In the deafening silence I heard myself wishing for the warmth of a friend. I tended to my garden, read novels on the patio and rested. Days passed by and the stillness took up more and more space. I escaped it by exploring the forest close by. Better the soft whispers of wind and the view of green than the void of the inside.

The boxes housing my past continued to collect dust away from my sight.

 I assured myself my evasion wasn’t because of my exposure . That these “silly illusions” I named them could see me and I couldn’t see them.

The harshness of the bruises I had begun to wake with made my stomach churn with apprehension. They were scattered across my face, legs and torso. By the 3 week mark I resembled a rotten fruit. This must end. At that point I feared falling into slumber and never awakening.

“You got too much imagination BB, put it in your writing instead of your worries.”

I’d repeated those words said to me in my mind and took breaths. There is a reason. The unknown merely needs understanding to be vanquished. I may listen to my body, but I trust my mind. I cannot afford to lose this place, this final blessing. Especially not because of my cowardice. It is the one place where the world forgets me. 

The reason will show tonight, I told myself, gently placing my laptop atop my dresser. The space was engulfed in darkness once I turned off the lights. Only a red dot flickered afar from my bed where I layed, closing my eyes. 

That night I dreamt.

My eyes drank in the gleam of a smile, laced with sweet nothings and filled with promise. I only saw it.

My ears rang like a singing bell and I headed to a symphony. I only heard it. 

My touch sensed a warm light, flesh pressing flesh. I only touched it.

My nose breathed in the sweetness of peace and passion. My nostrils burned. I only smelled it.

My taste relished in a fervor tainted now by fog . I only tasted it.

“Our place is with each other."

My gut jolted me awake. An emptiness took over my body and my face contorted in anguish. Crouched in a fetal position I was overcome with so much want it left me nauseous. My chest heaved with every ragged breath I took as the pain stabbed my heart. With solely desperation powering each step, I stumbled to the bathroom and my knees buckled in front of the toilet. I blinked and watched deadpan as the toilet flushed away the vomit. I felt as if a plug had been pulled from my brain. I rose from the ceramic tiles and staggered sideways. I rinsed my chapped lips coated in vomit above the sink, hands clumsy in the dark and obscure. By habit, I glanced up at the mirror. A corpse stared back.

My legs dragged my body back towards my room. I trembled at every step. My gaze searched for the familiar red dot but it was no more. Exasperated, I flung my hand to the switch and turned on the lights. Harsh white light pierced my vision and illuminated the room. Through my half lidded eyes I made my way to the laptop with distress permeating my thoughts.

Did it not record?

My index met the touchpad and with a tense jaw, I glided the mouse and clicked the camera icon. My breath picked up along with the file loading the recording, confirming it had in fact captured evidence. The world is silent and my mind was cacophonic with all the possibilities jumbled in my head. I pressed play.

The outline of each object in my room is barely visible, instead replaced with a single form. In the sea of grain appeared a being seemingly coming out the ceiling. It glowed with what can only be described as divinity. Its presence was felt even through machinery and it moved with utter elegance. Towards my limp body. As it floated downward, its shapeless self morphed into a humanoid form. It rested softly on top as if mindful of me. What it does isn’t discernible and suddenly a notification released  a small ding.

It stopped dead in its tracks, looking back at the camera like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment the being  merely stayed frozen before raising its supposed arm at the camera. With a mere flick of its wrist an almost cosmic force blinded the camera. Though nothing on the device seemed meddled with as I groped the laptop. My thumb grazed over the red dot having now reappeared. The video continued to play as I straightened my back and sat on the bed .

I lingered there for a moment in time, attempting to reunify my senses and mind together. There’s no way, this isn’t possible why me—A voice boomed inside the room and somehow I knew only I could hear it.

“If I ever fell from above, would you catch me?”

My head whipped in all directions looking for the source but I knew that wasn’t a tangible one. I yelled out curses and questions, thrashing about in my bed. I now lay perched above the covers, sweet clinging to my skin like dew.  By instinct, my hand reached for the wooden cross no longer dangling from my neck. Instead it fiddled down to my nightgown and the space around felt glacial. Bare. A thought punctured through the noise and I felt numb.

He is no longer with me.

Tears fell from my eyes like hard rain. I choked and cried, burrowing my head inside my arms. A creek emanated  from over my head and I let out a shaky gasp. My mouth quivered in fear and I pressed against myself even more. Their voices bounced and pulsated in my mind. An earsplitting shriek escaped my throat. 

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I waited for the silence to crush all other things and nervously straighten out my body. I get myself up, wiping the sweat of my face with my palms. My knitted brows framed the drive in my eyes. I head to the attic.

A hushed light twinkled open at the tug of a bronze chain. I surveyed from left to right, gripping the knife harder in my hand. I searched every corner and vicinity with no finds. Maybe I’m finally going crazy. Almost like an answer, a cardboard box glided across the floor behind me, closer than ever. My torso twisted around and at the sight of the object I stepped back in surprise. I pointed the knife before ultimately lowering it. I crouched near and with my other arm reached inside.There in the box was housed a miniature statue. 

Skin soft like a baby,

Curly hair golden like the sun,

Wings grand like the sky,

Body shattered once dropped by my shaking hand. I stand there breathless.

Like that bastard would say: “You’ve been touched by an angel, Becca.”