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"Yes," he nodded heavily, as if his head was too heavy to be carried on his shoulders. "I have not been inside since that night."
"Why?" she asked.
He frowned. Sometimes, she asked questions which had obvious answers. He wondered why she did that.
"Because of what happened," he replied.
"Don't you think that exactly because of what happened, you ought to go back inside?" she asked again, defiantly.
There was a fearless side to her, that much he was certain of. It was obviously a trait she had inherited from her mother. She refused to bow down before anyone, and when she wanted to know something, she asked. Also, when she thought she could help, she helped, regardless of the consequences. He could not help but admire such traits in a woman, especially in the world they lived in, which favored silent, obedient women.
He had never been like that for the very simple reason that his parents had taught him better than that. His own father had chosen to marry his wife not only because she was beautiful, but because she was able to carry a conversation with him, daring his mind to go to lengths it never went to with a woman. This made their marriage all the better, because they were equal partners in everything, and not a powerful man with an obedient wife.
Now, Leah was daring him to enter. "Would you do it?" he suddenly asked her.
"I have visited the place of my mother's death many times." Her answer surprised him.
"How come?" he could not help but ask.
"Because that is the place where she drew her last breath," Leah explained softly. "Just because of that, it has become sacred for me."
"Don't you hate it?"
"I hate whoever did this to her," Leah corrected him. Sometimes, the way her mind worked surprised him beyond comprehension. "I do not hate the place itself. Why would I?"
He didn't answer that, although she was making sense. He turned toward the locked door. "This has always been my home," he finally continued. "When they died... this home died with them. This is just an empty mansion now."
"Then there should be nothing to fear behind those doors," she suggested. "Nothing that should have any power over you."
Everything she said made so much sense. He hated it. He hated that she was giving him all the right reasons to finally overcome this fear and open this door. Instinctively, he pressed his trouser pocket. The key was inside. It was always inside. He carried it with himself at all times, as if he might suddenly decide to unlock the door. That never happened.
"Come," she suddenly said, approaching him, and standing by his side so that their shoulders were touching. "Look at the door. It is just a door to a room, a room you have decided to be afraid of. There is nothing but a single bad memory inside. A horrible one. The worst one. But this mansion is filled with so many others. Do not let those beautiful memories suffer over this one."
Her voice was soft and soothing. He suspected that she could tell him to go to the end of the world, and he would gladly listen. He was falling in love with this beautiful, mesmerizing woman, and he did not deserve to have her love him back. How could she ever love a coward, a mere shadow of a man?
He almost succumbed to these feelings, when unexpectedly, a little voice urged him not to give up. It was a voice unlike any other he had ever heard, but it was telling him all the right things, all the things he needed to hear right now.
He slid his hand into his pocket and extracted the key. He showed it to her. She was smiling, then she gave him a sympathetic nod. He placed the key in its position with a trembling hand. He still could not believe that he was doing it, almost as if an invisible hand was guiding his own, as he was unlocking the door. The second click meant it was open. He could turn the doorknob.
He swallowed heavily. One second felt like an entire hour. He knew that the longer he waited, the more afraid he would be. Then, he felt Leah's gentle squeeze on his upper arm.
"I'm here," she whispered gently. That was enough for him to reach for the doorknob and push the door open.
The stale smell instantly permeated their nostrils. He tried to turn away, but it was everywhere. The room needed to be aired. It also needed to be cleaned. It needed to be repaired. He wanted it to be as it was before it all happened. It would not change the past, but it would have a positive impact on the present.
"This is where it happened," he said, looking about. He tried to banish the onslaught of memories that came at him, biting at his heart one at a time. It was more painful than he could imagine, but he knew he had to push through.
Leah walked around the room, stepping on soot-filled floorboards. Her every step made a small puff of smoke appear around her feet. The windows were all gray with dust, apart from that one which was half broken from the inside. A part of the green curtain still hung to the side, the hems black, as if small dark teeth were nibbling on them little by little.
When he closed his eyes, flashes of red appeared before them, like flickers of that fire which he could not forget, not even for a single moment. That was all he remembered of that night. The fire and the screams. That was enough of a nightmare.
"Are you all right?" Leah's tender voice brought him back to the present moment.
He could say yes, but that wouldn't be the truth. So, he chose not to say anything at all. She understood his silence. She stood by his side, and together, they simply took in the chamber around them. He was certain that she could sense the dread that reigned inside. It was palpable. It filled one's soul with despair, refusing to leave. He didn't want Leah's soul to be filled with it, like his was.
"Perhaps we should leave," he suggested, looking away from a charred place on the floor that was in the shape of a human body.
"Yes," she agreed.
