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“Seriously? This is amazing.” Sadie beamed. It was a new year-round attraction in the city, and it wasn’t the Halloween standard bloody and gory haunted house, but the more gothic eerie style.
As Sadie started the truck, she pushed in one of her grandfather’s old cassettes, letting the music ignite a new drive inside her. It took her a moment to realize what it was since she’d been without it for three months.
Determination.
Chapter Five
“The night watches over us, whether we are wicked or not.”
After putting her last black T-shirt away in the closet, Sadie had spent most of the day unpacking boxes, catching remnants of River’s scent from the items inside. She arranged her movie collection alphabetically, filling up most of the shelves in the bedroom. She’d called the internet provider before moving in to see about setting up Wi-Fi. However, it wasn’t available in her location yet, which was fine because she could still use her phone data for research and take her laptop to a coffee shop when she needed to submit one of her magazine articles or short stories.
Sadie finished hanging her framed insect collection on the walls, placing a few of the animal skulls between each of the moths. The other beetles, butterflies, and mantises were scattered about. Her favorite amongst all of River’s art pieces, a painting of deep reds, umber, black shadows, and mysterious grays, depicting a werewolf carrying a savage mermaid back to the water, their love everlasting despite their monstrous states, she’d rested above the fireplace mantel. Some of his art she’d given to his mom, but the remainder she couldn’t part with. They were just too alluring and as selfish as it might be, she didn’t want anyone else to have them.
She couldn’t part with River’s vintage stereo or his records either. If she’d let those go, that would mean completely letting go of him. Same as when she’d kept her grandfather’s cassettes—they were an important piece that she wanted to remember him by, listen to them when the need was there. So she’d set the stereo and records up in her bedroom beside her movie collection.
Yawning, she checked the time on her phone, and midnight was approaching soon. She took a water bottle from the fridge, ready to crash on the futon, when a loud creak echoed from the porch outside.
Her brow furrowed, and Sadie shrugged it off as she drank a few sips of water. Then it sounded again.
She set the bottle on the counter and grabbed a butcher knife from the collection of utensils before slowly tiptoeing to the door. Curiosity, unease, and giddiness filled her at once. Holding her breath, she drew back the black lacy curtains a sliver and peeked out the window, the porch light illuminating the area slightly. She could vaguely make out the outline of the road and the trees.
Shadows danced along the ground, but they were only a reflection from the moon shining down on the rustling trees as the wind blew.
Her shoulders sagged, realizing it was only the wind creaking the planks outside. Even though she gripped the knife still, she was more curious about uncovering a possible supernatural presence. Another night, when she wasn’t too exhausted, she would explore the darkened woods. She lingered a few more minutes, staring out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the paranormal.
But nothing otherworldly showed itself.
Sadie tucked the curtains back around the glass and placed the knife on the table in case she did need it. She then lay on the velvety futon, drawing a fleece blanket up to her chin—she couldn’t sleep in the bed just yet since it would’ve been where she and River would’ve slept. One step at a time.
As she closed her eyes, falling deeper and deeper into a blackened space of oblivion, the wind outside picked up, rattling the windows, and she could’ve sworn a gentle musical sound purred through the air, calling to her.
A slight headache pulsed above Sadie’s right eye as she peeled open her lids. She’d slept like the dead, literally. It had been her first night’s sleep over the past three months where she didn’t remember dreaming. A knot formed inside her rib cage at the thought. It should feel like progress, only it didn’t.
Pulling back the blanket, she wiped the sleep from her eyes and headed into the kitchen. This was the first time she’d ever lived alone. Before her sister and River, she had only lived in her parents’ home.
Sadie tugged the ends of her hair and sighed as she prepared the hot chocolates to get her day started. She took her notebook and laptop from the desk and brought them with her to the futon.
Tapping the pencil against her lips, she flipped through the pages of her notebook, scanning over the things she’d written before River died. She contemplated whether to start fresh, but she shot the idea down—she wanted to add to the scenes that she’d created after the party at his parents’ house. The ideas that had formed because of River.
Sadie jotted down a few lines about a haunted hotel, then erased them. Another line about a farmhouse where something insidious was lurking about, doing nefarious things with the livestock. “Too cliché,” she grunted and erased that as well. An anxious feeling churned in her stomach, and she tightened her grip on the pencil, writing one single sentence, or more like three lonely words. This is appalling. And to strengthen it, she scratched out the first word and changed it to Life is appalling.
“Dammit,” she whispered, tossing the notebook aside. She leaned forward and pressed her face into her palms, then wiped away the tears that had started to fall. Why couldn’t she do this? Why couldn’t she at least write a single sentence for River? A start. Even if she didn’t submit it to anyone, she just wanted to write it, maybe even bury it in the woods where she’d spread his ashes. Something.
Sadie relaxed against the back of the futon and stared up at the midnight-black ceiling. “If only I could be a part of your dark depths, just for a moment, to absorb that desire, that grim strength to write this.” But of course the ceiling didn’t answer back.
She lifted her second mug and took a sip of the brown chocolate, letting the rich flavor coat her tongue as she attempted to think of words. For the time being, she worked on her laptop, typing up an article that was due soon, then she transferred what she did have in her notebook for the screenplay to a file, followed by creating a page of what she imagined the characters would look like. As she closed her eyes, she focused on the main characters, and the only images that came to mind were … her and River…
The phone rang and Sadie jolted, snatching the cell from the coffee table. Her sister.
“Hey,” Sadie answered. “You’re not on shift?”
“No, my schedule got moved around yesterday,” Charlie said. “You didn’t text me.”
“I’m still alive and kicking. No sign of hauntings besides some shadowy tree limbs and the porch making glorious creaking noises from the wind.”
“That’s good.” Something in her sister’s voice was different, nervous.
“What is it? You don’t sound like yourself.”
