Sarah and I dropped Matt off at chemo and began the treacherous house-hunt again. It had been a little over a week since it was decided that everyone was moving. Sarah and I had already looked at eight different houses before this trip and they just didn't seem like they fit the family. Sarah was growing desperate. We pulled up to a drive with a man hammering a sign in at the end. Sarah opened the door and caught the man's attention. "I don't wanna waste your time, but how much are you asking?" She sounded tired and determined.
"I'll give you the first month free if I don't have to hammer in the rest of this sign." We pulled up closer to the house after he agreed to let us check it out. When I set foot on the ground, something radiated from me. There were short flashes of a boy and man fighting in the yard and then groups of people entering the house. But they were short flashes like someone was changing the channel on a television. I felt a cloud of pain wavering near me. The man led us inside and I struggled to touch the walls or banisters. He was talking about the house and Sarah told me to go look around, but in reality she wanted me to do a reading.
I trailed my hand along the stair railing and could no longer hear Sarah and the man. I became surrounded by a tint of warm coloring like I was stepping into an old movie. Classical music swarmed above me, coming from a room down the hall of the upper level. As I made my way there, I now heard the singing accompanying the delicate symphony. I recognized it as Mozart's Serenade No. 9 from when we had to take music appreciation class in the ninth grade. The walls were a yellow hue in the room and on one section, a tree and birds were painted. The furniture was mainly white and all matched accordingly. In one corner, four bird cages were strategically placed next to a window. The sunlight poured between the bars of the cages, catching the light on the feathers of white, black, and blue birds.
"Magpies are loyal birds, you know." I was startled by the voice again. My eyes shot to a vanity, white like the bed frame and dresser. A woman sat powdering her face as she looked into the oversized mirror. Her hair was braided and wrapped around her head. Her dress was a layered garment of all types of lace and embroidery. "There's an old wive's tale about them pecking out the eyes of their leader's enemy to gain trust." My breathing became more rigid and I found myself almost suffocating in her presence. I leaned against the opened door of the room, my eyes glued to her, gasping for air. My throat burned and I felt my lungs aching to burst. She turned to me with a smile, that's when I noticed the large cut across her throat. I slumped onto the ground as she faded away as if someone swiped their hand through thick, acrylic paint that wasn't yet dry. A boy stormed into the room as I regained my head. He began riffling through a nightstand. The room was now a stormy tint and the tree of birds was slightly faded. He was definitely Matt's age and dressed in tattered looking clothes. His bright green eyes scanned the room, landing on me. I felt a pain in my chest again and an overwhelming amount of fear pulsing through my veins. The smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils and he narrowed his eyes at me in unease. With a flash, he was gone.
I was alone in the room, still sitting on the hardwood floor against the paint chipped entrance. I stood up, brushing myself off and collecting my emotions before continuing to explore. I traveled down the steps again and felt the pull towards the basement. A strong stench of formaldehyde and ash circulated in the air. I was startled by the odd part of the room that was sectioned off by wooden frames and large glass windows. I felt whispering around me, begging me to stay away. I stopped in the middle of the room, rubbing my sweater-covered arms to generate heat against the escalating draft. The walls began to stretch and show signs of struggling on the other end as if something was trapped beneath the wallpaper. I looked to my feet that were being surrounded by a warm, red liquid swelling in from every direction. The metallic smell of blood seemed to struggle against the chemical stench of formaldehyde. I felt sick and on a deserted island with the water being blood. The room around me grew darker and flames protruded from the base of the wall, climbing to the ceiling. I did not scream, I had learned not to do so. But the feeling of fear trampled my insides again as the room went to flames. The eerie sense of it all was that everything was silent. There was no screaming, ripping, popping, nothing, but dead silence. Until Serenade No. 9 fled the room slowly.
"Grey?" It was like someone had turned on the lights and broken me out of hell when Sarah's voice echoed off the walls. I was just in the middle of the basement. Everything was how it had been. After responding to her, I glanced at the doors once more before wandering back up the steps. Sarah thanked the man and we climbed into the car. "So, how was it?" She asked, tapping her thumbs against the steering wheel.
"You can't buy that house…" I mumbled, thinking about Billy and Mary, even Matt. She furrowed her brows slightly at me and I bit the inside of my cheek.
"Why not? It's our price, it's absolutely gorgeous, it's close to the hospital… The only issue is that it's… It was…"
"A funeral home?" I questioned, remembering the doors and formaldehyde smell. Usually, when there are people behind the wallpaper, it symbolizes that they were trapped there.
"Yeah." She sighed and leaned her head back. "How bad is it?"
"Let's just say, it wasn't a place where happy things occurred… I think there was a fire actually or maybe it was a downfall of some kind, I'm not very good at deciphering what happens. And how old did the guy say the house was?" I would have to be home earlier than I had planned so I could catch Frank. He would know what was happening.
Sarah thought for a moment. She looked indecisive. "Uh, I think he said late eighteen-hundreds?" Her lips pursed into a tight line. "What do you think it would be like if we did live there?"
"We'd have to get used to entities tampering with our lives. I'm advising you to not get that house. It's too dangerous." I felt like we were being watched as this decision was being dissolved in Sarah's head. I was tempted to whisper.
She nodded. "You're right. It was too good to be true anyway. Peter wouldn't settle for it." She let out a tired laugh.
Frank sat calmly as I told him everything I had witnessed. I wouldn't have bothered looking for a reasoning, but Sarah was considering renting it and I would be lying if I didn't say there was something compelling about the house. I knew that none of them were guarded enough to withstand what would happen in that house. "Fire and blood can mean many things. Like, it could be demonic, there could have actually been a fire, maybe there was some kind of downfall like with the family that lived there before. It can mean a lot of things. I think that if she does end up getting the house, you should do some more research on it."
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, destroying some of the curls on one side. "But there are kids and Matt. They are so susceptible to possession or worse. I don't want them to be at risk in their own homes and I don't want something bad happening to them," my voice shook with worry as I spoke. "They have enough to worry about."
"Sarah still has tons of options to shoot down, I think you're stressing for nothing." He was running a comb through his hair and gelling down the sides. I ran my finger along the embroidery on his duvet cover, thinking of the strange woman in the house.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," I responded quietly.
"How's the treatment going?"
"Um, pretty good. It's a lot different than the chemo, but he's not nauseous anymore and he won't lose his hair again. He's got this really bad like body aches. And it's terrible because there's really nothing you can do for him. Plus, the radiation is killing his skin. It looks like he's got a sunburn on his shoulders and down his neck…" I frowned slightly.
"That's too bad. Guess you can't hang all over him anymore?" Frank joked, an attempt to lighten my damp mood.
"We manage," I answered with a small smirk, earning a light chuckle from him.
I sat beside Sarah in the waiting room. We were splitting a pack of Snowballs from the vending machine down the hall and then discussing how much we had regretted doing so. I had begun flipping through a children's book while she looked at the house listing ads in the newspaper.
"I'm going to see how things happen in Connecticut, like once we get settled and everything, but I'm going to work on getting a job," Sarah mumbled to me.
"That's great!"
"I just thought that since Wendy has the kids, and you have Matt, maybe I could find something part time so I could still help around the house, but a few extra bucks wouldn't hurt." She shrugged while circling something on the paper. Our conversation was cut short when a nurse brought Matt out in a wheelchair. I helped him into the car as Sarah stayed behind to talk to one of the doctors. I got into the seat next to him. He was so quiet and partly wincing at every breath wracking through his body.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" I asked, pushing his hair off his forehead. He turned to me with bigger eyes and a frown.
"I've been better…" he mumbled, biting his lip with a small chuckle and shooting his head forward with a wince. I sat closer to him and he instantly leaned on me as I wrapped an arm around his back. He clung onto my knee with one hand.
"I'm so sorry, Matty," I whispered into his hair. I couldn't see him that well anymore because of the darkness outside once Sarah pulled away. The drive was pitiful and rocky, shaking Matt around when he needed to be still. He clutched my sweater and grunted every once in awhile as the car bounced around. Sarah made eye contact with me in the rearview mirror.
"The doctor said you would have some body aches…" Matt leaned back against me with a laugh.
"So, the doctor walks into the room and the patient says, 'Well?' The doctor answers, 'Well, you have cancer, and Alzheimer's.' The patient lets out a sigh of relief, 'Ahh, at least I don't have cancer'," Matt snickered to himself and I rolled my eyes with a smile.
"You're terrible." A tear fell from Matt's eye as he was shaken again, holding on to me for dear life, it seemed.
"That's it," Sarah grumbled, turning the car around.
We pulled up to the large house that used to occupy as the funeral home of the town. My stomach ached getting out of the car, but I couldn't argue or even think against it. Matt needed rest and if this was how it had to happen, I wasn't complaining. Sarah and the man walked in front of Matt and I up the steps. She was thanking him because of how late it was and how short notice this all came about. He graciously gave us a mattress and a few sleeping bags. Matt gingerly laid on the bed, pulling me next to him and wrapping his arms around my shoulders and torso. I laughed slightly.
"I have to help your mom," I reasoned, pulling away from him, only to result in Matt pulling me closer.
"She's fine. I need you to help me," he stated promptly. I laughed and rolled my eyes. We both stared at the TV, not really caring what was on. As Matt leaned forward and shut it off, I noticed a figure standing in the doorway, blocking the light from the other room. I rolled over to face Matt, wrapping my arm around his waist, looking at the figure, then onto Matt's face. The way his eyelashes casted shadows on his cheeks from the other light made him look so much younger. The glow gave the aura that he was healthier. His soft snoring made me want to laugh. He could always fall asleep so easily and it made him seem almost innocent.
"I love you," I whispered to him so faintly, I myself could barely hear above the settling house, but the love is sincere.