ARE YOU GUYS READY FOR THIS CHAPTER? IT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWN IN A FEW MORE CHAPTERS. I hope you guys are enjoying it! Are you liking it? Hating it? Let me know.
Also, I hope you are able to see slowly who Julie really is with her little mentions about her life before all this. Do you think she's sane enough to deal with everything and run away? Or do you think she's gonna stay because she's a little…cuckoo herself? If so, what were the hints you got that made you think she's also a lil craycray or sane?
I'll post the next chapter if I get 100 views!
I set the table for the both of us for lunch.
His voice sounded so soft...but it's as if it is not a little boy's voice. It's him, isn't it? Is it true? I'm not crazy and that doll isn't haunted? It would all finally make sense if it really is the man who's been doing all of this.
I place the plate on the table and pause for a second, staring nowhere.
The image of the man's clothing flashes in my head. He was wearing a sweater and some pants. I couldn't really look close but it's already proof that this man's been in here for years, maybe. He looked so untidy as if he's hidden himself from me for a long, long time. Where could he possibly be now? Where does he hide? How does he know my every move?
I suddenly feel a presence. I look around but there's no one in the dining hall.
Cameras.
Suddenly, my eyes look up at the ceiling; slowly scanning one corner to another. I glance at the shelves and my eyes focus on every miniature figurines. I quickly pace back to the door and make sure Brahms isn't around. I return inside the dining hall and quietly search the room, but this time, I'm a little cautious and conscious. If there's a camera in here, then he knows that I know. And if he knows that I know...I'm dead.
I should probably leave while I still have the chance? But where will I go? I don't have a place to stay. I can't...I can't go back to America. I'm gonna be a laughing stock. Sure, my stepdad would welcome me back, even my step sisters, since they want my signature in that certificate so they can finally have their half of mom's will. If I come back, it's like giving up. It's almost like I'm forgetting my promise to mom.
Flashes of her face appear in my head again. Why was I so reckless?
I glance at the dining table set for two. It used to be like this, too. Two plates left, food untouched. She would wait for me to get home, but I would always stare from the window, keeping my pride intact and refusing to go inside the house. She sits there patiently, waiting for me. I remember my stepfather approaching her and convincing her to leave the table, but she refuses. I don't hear her voice but I see her refusing him. Then he hits her. Hard. I suddenly remember the reason why I didn't want to come home that night.
She didn't want to leave him. I wanted her to. I never liked him. He always hit her when he had too much to drink. He never cared if he would wake up in the morning to see a bruise on her. He cared in the beginning, made me believe. But when he became part of us, when the two sisters came, he didn't care about me, he didn't care about mom. He didn't care about anything. And so, I stopped caring too. I did what I wanted to, since no one had to tell me what to do. I saw the positive side in it: I was responsible with my own actions. I could do anything I want, as if there were no rules to follow, no heart to break when I get home. I believed in this so much that I was blind enough to ignore my mother's state. I was blind enough to realize that she was the only one who cared for me. The only one watching my every move. She cared enough to nag at my behavior. Cared enough to notice how obnoxious and rebellious I was. Cared enough to see how I changed since he came. Cared enough to see that I wanted attention. Cared enough to see through me.
I snap back to reality. Right now, I feel like someone's seeing through me.
Keeping my normal stance, I look around as if I'm just looking around. This isn't breaking the rules, is it?
My hands slide across the empty shelves as I peek outside, inside, between, or even its corners. I touch the figurines and the pots and find nothing. I flip the frames sitting at the next shelf and still...nothing. I continue looking for some kind of lens anywhere until I hear a thud behind me. I jump in shock as I turn to look behind me. Brahms is on the floor. Shit.
"Hey!" I say. Shit shit. Don't shake. Or he'll know.
I look around the dining hall as I approach Brahms then take him in my hands. "Sorry. I kinda lost track in my own thoughts." I let out a nervous chuckle and have him sit on the chair. "Let's eat?" I smile lightly and start on my food as he sits quietly, food on his plate.
He didn't see me, did he? And I'm not talking about the doll.