Standing in front of this nightmarish house brings back so many haunting memories. My finger automatically runs over the scar I have above my eyebrow. Every time I come here I want to bring some gasoline and matches, and burn this dump to the ground. No amount of painting and pretty flowers added to the garden will change what happened to me there, what I had to endure on a daily basis.
“Elle…” Suzie’s hesitant voice calls out from her front door, next door to my childhood home. My eyes don’t shift from what’s before me. My fists clench in anger, my fingernails digging into the skin. No matter how many years pass, it’s never enough.
“Sweet girl, come on. Let’s see what’s in those bags.”
Shaking my head, I avert my eyes and look at her. Suzie was, and still is, the light in all the darkness surrounding me. Dark days used to happen every week, and the nightmares never stopped. Yesterday was a bad day. I asked to go home early because I wasn’t coping with the loss of Rebecca. Violet didn’t take it so well, but when I messed up one simple task of making Ms. Vi’s tea three times, she basically pushed me out the door. My head wasn’t in my work.
“Sorry, Suzie. It gets me every time.” I move toward her open arms. Being wrapped in her familiar scent breaks the dam wall I held until now. She’s my support. I’d rung her last night and filled her in on what had happened. She’d cried, but I hadn’t. A small part of me wanted to, but the tears wouldn’t come.
Sometimes Suzie calls me heartless. It doesn’t surprise me that my parents’ coldness runs in my veins—they couldn’t even show love to their own flesh and blood.
“Shhh…” Suzie coos as though she’s soothing a newborn baby.
“Rebecca was one of my friends, Suzie.” I hiccup, leaning back and looking into Suzie’s concerned face.
“I know, sweet girl. Come on inside and let’s have some dinner. I’ve bought a bottle of wine we can share.” She gives me a warm smile as she holds me out at an arm’s length.
I nod and follow her inside, my thoughts still firmly on Rebecca as I give one last glance at the house next door. Memories of being a teenager and going to school with bright, colorful bruises littering my flesh flash through my mind like a turbulent storm. No teacher ever stood up for me, never inquired about them, never cared enough to question. It made me feel pathetic, as if I was nothing.
When I was old enough, I got as far away from this neighborhood while still being within visiting range of Suzie. She always offers to come visit, but I hate to put her out. She’s not as young as what she once was. As it is, I have to catch a train for forty-five minutes and walk another twenty.
After we’ve served up our meals, we fall into a familiar routine, one we established when she took me in many years ago—eating dinner and chatting about everything going on. Suzie is the one person I’ve told almost everything, but there are still some things I keep closely guarded and locked away in a vault in my heart. They’re my darkest secrets.
“How’s work going?” Suzie asks before she takes another fork full of fried rice.
Looking up from my plate, I don’t feel very hungry. “Yeah, it’s going all right. Always busy, which is how I like it. And now everything has happened with Rebecca, some things are kind of in a mess.” I give a half-hearted smile.
I remember when I met Rebecca on my very first day working for Violet. I was in the biggest mess—I felt so far out of my depth it wasn’t funny.
Rebecca pulled me into her studio room, sat me down, and said, “Pull yourself together, or you’ll lose this job. Ms. Vi doesn’t take kindly to fumblers. Don’t let things get to you. Become strong. Become someone that Ms. Vi can’t live without.”
With those solid words spoken, I quickly pulled myself together as she’d told me. I kept my job and made a wonderful friend.
“That’s good. How’s your boss treating you? You know she’s not my favorite person.” Suzie waves her fork at me.
“I know. Sometimes she can be hard, but I enjoy being pushed—it shows her I’m prepared to do anything. Who knows? She might put me up for an internship and allow me to study journalism, and I could actually write for her magazine one day, or for a newspaper that actually has meaning.”
Suzie narrows her eyes, as if she’s figuring the answer to a problem in her mind. “Is that what you want to do? How did I not know this?”
I hear the hurt in her words. “Yes. Remember how you caught me stealing a notebook from the corner store?”
“Yes.” Suzie smiles. “I brought you so many. You were always burrowing your head away, writing…”
“Well, I decided it’s what I wanted to do. Write. Use words to help others like they helped me.”
Her mouth hangs open a little before she speaks. “Elle, would I be able to see what you wrote back then?” She places her fork down as she waits for a reply.
Diverting my gaze from hers, I look around the room, a room that hasn’t changed since I was fifteen. All 70s-style yellow and green furniture, covered with flowers.
“Elle?”
Not making eye contact with her, I respond. “They’re packed away in boxes. When I came to live with you, I kept them hidden. They’re not things I like to share around. They’re personal… to me… and about what happened to me back then.” There’s not an ounce of emotion in my voice.
Those notebooks hold my deepest secrets. Secrets that should remain hidden. Suzie only saw a few things; she never saw what happened behind those doors at night. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I quickly take another bite of food.
Silence falls between us, and it isn’t exactly a comfortable one. It’s as if I can hear Suzie’s thoughts ticking over in her head. I attempt to change the subject to something lighter. To try and forget the dark, even if only for a moment. Turning toward her, I say, “So, I ran into a nice guy yesterday while getting lunch.”
Suzie sits a little straighter in her chair. “Really? Do tell me.”
“Well, I literally ran into him.”
A beaming smile shines from her as I continue to tell her about our encounter and how he left me his card. When I finish telling Suzie, she jumps from her seat and rushes off somewhere, only to return with the phone. “You need to ring him.” She pushes it right in front of my face.
I’m completely lost for words. “I… I can’t do that,” I stammer. The thought of even dialing his number causes me to break out in a sweat. I do not date. Well, I’ve never dated. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s a simple fact that I’d only embarrass myself being a klutz.
“Yes, you can. Do it,” she urges excitedly.
I really don’t want to call right now. It’s embarrassing. “No, I’ll do it tomorrow. Tonight, I’m here to hang with you. Let’s finish eating, and then we can watch something before I have to go home.”
“Oh, you party pooper. You could stay the night. I don’t like the idea of you going home so late.” She says this every time I come over.
“I’ll be all right. It’s okay.” Taking a sip of my wine, I open my mouth to speak, but I’m cut off by a phone—mine. I only need one guess to know who it is. Jumping from my chair, I race to my bag on the living room coffee table. I sigh when I see the familiar name flash on my screen.
“Hello, Ms. Vi.” My poor attempt to sound happy doesn’t go unnoticed by her.
“Elenore, I need you. Here. Right now. And maybe next time you answer my call, you could attempt a proper greeting.” Anger flows through the line.
Gosh, how have I managed to put up with her? I ask myself this question at times like this, then I remember she has her good qualities as well. I’d really love her to support me studying in this industry as an intern. If she does, then with working at the magazine, and maybe the company will take care of some of my costs for the courses. One day I truly hope to make something of myself.
Rubbing my eyes, I say, “Sorry, Ms. Vi. I’m almost an hour away. Is it something I can help you with over the phone?”
Violet releases what sounds like a frustrated breath. “If you want to keep your job, you’ll get in here right now.”
The line goes dead.
Looking up, Suzie’s standing a few feet behind me with sadness in her eyes. “You can find another job, Ellie. Don’t let her treat you like this.” Her voice shakes, and I know she’s right, but I’m not a quitter.
“It’s okay, Suzie. One day, I’ll be out from under her. It’s what assistants do—drop everything for their bosses.” I shrug.
“No, Ellie, this isn’t normal. She’s a crazy bitch.”
Laughter escapes me at Suzie calling Violet a bitch. “Suzie, you never swear.” I laugh.
A small grin registers across her features. “That woman brings out the worst in me, and I don’t even work for her.”
After saying our goodbyes, I walk back to the train station. I keep my eyes down as I pass that house of horrors. When I look up, I spot a silhouette of a person. Even though I’ve walked this road plenty of times and felt safe, knowing there’s a killer around, I dig in my bag for the pepper spray I purchased today as a precaution.
When I get closer to the figure, he or she turns down an alley. A chill runs up my spine as I quicken my pace.