One
I can’t shake the feeling that someone's died.
Someone who was very dear to me. There’s a hole in my heart and I have an uncontrollable urge to cry. I ask my mom about it, but she doesn’t bother giving me an answer. She only rolls her eyes at me and looks the other way.
See, I suffer from schizophrenia, rare but in my case it's caused long term memory loss. I can't remember anything about my past. At least that’s what my parents tell me. I don’t think they’re right, I mean, I’ve always felt that I’m different from every one else, but not the way they say.
Today is moving day, my parents purchased a building on the outskirts of Salem, Ma. I heard my mother tell my step-father that Tilly’s gone and they can now proceed. I guess Tilly is the previous owner, I really can’t say though because until this morning I didn’t know we were moving.
I’m not happy about the move, there’s a dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach that I just can’t articulate. It’s telling me that something is very wrong. I don’t want to get into their car but I have no other choice. The entire ride I feel like puking, I’m just grateful that it was a short one.
We park in front of a dark building, and although it is six o’clock at night, it’s strange how foggy and dark it is. I can’t help but notice the many dark clouds hovering over it as if they are trying to hide something. My family, consisting of my mom, step-father and sister rush out of the car and into the building.
I take a deep breath and force myself to walk towards the entrance. I step inside the front hall, and I feel a heavy dark presence approaches me rapidly. Instinctively I jump out of the way but nothing is there. I may not be able to see anyone but I can feel that I am not alone. I continue moving through the place, hoping to find my family.
The walls are wounded with misery and loneliness. Our new home is a gloomy four-story building, dilapidated and murky. It is a vacant and lifeless structure, with two basements in the lower level, two apartments on the first floor, two apartments on the second floor, and an attic.
The floors and walls in the common areas are covered with a dark maroon carpet that is so thick it isolates sound from the rest of the world. It also holds a mildew smell that lingers in my nose long after I’ve passed it. It’s eerie to say the least, most of the light bulbs in it’s hallways are gone, and those that do remain only flicker.
At the end of the first-floor landing there is a tiny window that is parallel to the neighbor’s kitchen window. They can’t see me but I can see and hear them, their window is wide open. So far I know that my neighbor’s name is Joan, and that her best friend, Susy, is visiting.
The two ladies can’t stop talking, maybe they haven’t seen each other in a while and have a lot to catch up on. They seem to know everyone and everything about everyone. They laugh and giggle until suddenly the mood changes.
I wish I hadn’t been eavesdropping because what I heard would change my life forever. I just didn’t know it yet.
“Oh Poor Tilly, I can’t help but think of her, all alone in that big scary building. She doesn’t have any family to watch over her, you know. Her only daughter lives far away, besides she is way too proud to ask for help. It’s no wonder she went mad. If indeed she did go mad.” Says Joan pouring the steaming coffee into her coffee mug.
“What do you mean, what happened to her Joan?” Asks Susy swirling a spoon inside her coffee cup, as she looks at Joan with wide eyes anticipating the response.
“Oh, it’s so sad to say the least. Last night, her doctor came over to do a wellness check on her, said he had been calling her all day but she wouldn’t answer any of his calls. When he got there he searched the building and found her lying on the attic floor in the fetal position.
She was covered in bruises and was rambling on and on about being a powerful witch and that a demon tried to kill her, but she outsmarted him.
A demon! Can you believe that? I mean she has always been conceited but come on! Poor, poor woman is delirious. Her doctor took her away, probably to the loony bin. It really is the best thing for her, unless…” Joan pauses mid-sentence and looks around the room as if to see if anyone else is listening before she continues.
They are talking about the woman that I over heard my mother talking about! Tilly, it’s not a common name, I remember it clearly, she is the one that sold this building to my mother.
“Eulalie!” she yells out and my soul almost jumps out of my body at the sound of her voice. She has that effect on me. She has a way of making my surroundings shatter every time she says my name. Ugh! I can’t hear what Joan tells Susy. Maybe it would explain why I feel so scared of this place. Why I’ve been in constant fear from the moment I arrived. Why I sense a cold presence is following me and I feel like I’m not alone.
“Eulalie, you menacing girl, come here!”
“Coming, mom!” I shriek.
I have to go down a long shadowy hallway to get to my mother. I hate it, I can feel malice dwells there. My hands are shaking, and my entire body is trembling, but I am more worried about making mother mad. I begin walking through the hallway and immediately I get a claustrophobic feeling.
The hall is completely empty but it feels supper cluttered and clammy. I want to run but my legs aren’t listening. God stay with me, help me get through this. I am almost at the end and suddenly my back turns to ice as I feel freezing breath on the back of my neck.
It’s all in your head I’m telling myself over and over, but I am not convincing myself. I’m trying to be brave and keep myself from screaming, but the terror is too much and I let instinct take over. I fly out of there like a bat out of literal hell.
I don’t stop until I reach the depressing, stained door that marks my dreadful residence. My mother is waiting for me with crossed arms, tapping her left, red bottom stiletto. I know that she is already mad at me.
She signals me to enter the apartment, it’s a two-bedroom rumination of former miserable lives, I’m sure. I will have to share one of the bedrooms with Lila, that’s my younger sister’s name.
Actually for once in my life I am glad to have her around, or actually I am glad to not have to sleep alone in my room. I have never been so scared in my life, well at least that’s what my gut tells me.
My mother says that my brain is broken like a crazy person’s brain. It makes me see things that aren’t really there. And it makes me delusional. I don’t know what to believe, am I crazy or am I in tune with the supernatural?
For the most part I’ve gotten used to crazy things happening to me like the frightening visions I get when I touch someone, they’re horrific scenes that haunt my dreams.
Also, when Death notifies me that someone has died. She’ll knock three times on the floor by my feat. But the worse are my recurring lucid nightmares where something is pulling me out of my body, and I can’t move or scream I’m frozen petrified, but I can see everything that’s happening in my surroundings.
It’s as if I’m in between two separate realities at the same time, one familiar and the other ominous. I’m being forcefully pulled into the ominous reality and I worry that once I’m there I won’t get to return.
“Eulalie follow me” my mother orders as she exits the apartment.
My mother, Lilith, barely looks at me when she speaks to me. She makes me feel insignificant. I obey her command and follow behind her. All through the cold tunnels of the building until we arrive at the dark underground cells made of cement walls with no windows, the basements.
This is where I will do the laundry, all alone, of course, Lila would never set foot here. The smell of mold hits me as I walk in and makes me cough. The air is heavy and dusty making it hard to breathe.
There is a single sickly lightbulb hanging from the very low ceiling. It’s the only thing providing light in this hell hole. I stare at it as I pass it by, and it seems to be staring back at me, then I hear a “click” followed by utter blackness as the lightbulb mockingly dies out. I can hear my blood pumping as my mom’s breathing intensify and she prepares to let me have it.
“Imbecile!” My mom screams out making me flinch. “Now you’ll have to use candles when you’re down here, let’s see how you like that. It’ll teach you strength.” She manages to say through grinding teeth.
Her lessons in strength is how she justifies the horrific things she does to me. When I try to defend myself, it makes her angrier, so I just don’t try anymore. I’ve learned to do exactly as she says.
“Yes mom, I’m sor--” I start to apologize but I stop mid word because I feel invisible arms that wrap around me and tighten before they let go of me.
