*"Be
careful what you lie about, it may come to be the truth." ~Anonymous*
The residence sat in
dread upon the midnight's raging storm. As for its inhabitants, the old woman
shifts her weary weight in the old armchair, creating creaks that are lost to
the pounding of snow against the wood panels. The younger girl shifts not once
for only hesitance could break her postured stance.
Bursts of wind chime
not merrily but eerily tonight, the sounds echo within the hearth that radiates
cold, not heat. The old lady shivers and her old bones shake in a dread only mortality can pursue, as she whispers a
curse to the horrid night. However the
girl sits in pure content.
A game of cards
persists eagerly as the young girl is unfazed t to its incompetent demise. In a
manner of haste, the girl fidgets to proceed her hand.
"The queen of
diamonds?" The simple request from the old woman, perhaps, set her in a
darkness. Her sadness brings her grave closer.
The girl does not
make eye contact as she speaks, "Go fish, nanna,"
A sad, shaky hand reaches
towards the scattered deck lying on their table. She draws a card as the game
endures ever longer.
"Three of
hearts?"
The grandma nods and
slowly hands the girl her card as the then, much too eager fingers snatch the
paper from her drowsy grip.
"Do you
have--"
"Nanna, now, I
have stated the rule prior. I go again, for I have yet another pair." An
arm of strength gestures to the cards set upon the wood. "The…queen of
diamonds?"
Being so sickly the
grandmother had not noticed the trickery placed in the room. And the card was given, simply yet barely, to
the young girl with the cruel smile. However the fire was now dwindled, a heap
of glowing ashes, so the smile was hidden, and hidden well.
The storm continued
in a fury, with the eager anxiety of a storm that comes so early in the year.
It was November 2nd, the early dreadful days where the nights spread longer,
continuing ever more as the life of those within its grasp lessens. The old lady
especially, with her grave now deathly close.
For once, the girl
of youth noticed her relative's grim expression. "Nanna, is it the cold? Shall I kindle
the flames of the hearth?"
"Oh, no,
dear," She inhaled a shaky breath. "'Tis only my late husband…"
And the girl thought
for more than a moment, hearing the faint breaths of her grandmother released
into the small cottage.
"But, nanna,
grandfather... is not dead. He is only delayed by the storm." In a haste
she rushed from her seat over towards the flames. Placing her hands there, she
felt no warmth, as her heart had frozen over, and her eyes were determined not to
seek those of her grandmother's.
Light rejoiced in
the old woman's eyes, her turning to look at her granddaughter who refused to
share eye contact.
"Oh my, oh my!
How did you acquire such information? I had only just received the news in
person from his work but a few hours past…"
The young girl
reserved her time for thought, as she then noted, "'Twas before I arrived,
I presume." The grandmother agreed. "However I had traveled the
cobblestone path a long ways before meeting the likes of a certain stranger. He
had told me of grandfather. He has been injured by the machinery at his
workplace, however not killed."
Her face, the
grandmother's, was white. Whether doubt or excitement, the younger girl could
not decipher one from the other.
A knock came to the
door then, and the grandmother jumped. When the younger girl offered to meet
the door's acquaintance, the grandmother denied as she walked briskly to greet
whomever set step upon their entrance.
There was enough
light in the place to see clearly whom the door's acquaintance was. For
standing on the doorstep was the old man, the late husband of the grandmother,
and suddenly, the grandmother's grave inched further away.
"My dear
Evaline." said the man. Now, the girl, who was never a form of truthful,
stood in shock, gaping at the scene before her.
"George,"
whispered Evaline. "You're home,"
The girl swallowed
involuntarily to her own horror. "H-how did y-you-"
There was a flash of
black eyes aimed at the girl. "The cold seems not the reason for your
stutter,"
She stared,
uncomprehending of the old man's response. She then whispered, "How did
you make it back home with a storm so fierce?"
"I mustn't lie,
'twas not an easy task. The roads have closed, making it so my reason to walk
here. My injury deemed it even more of a challenge than I had thought, as well.
However I trudged through banks of piled snow to see my loved ones."
"Could you not
have called, though?" The grandmother asked in pursuit of curiosity.
He laughed at her
supposedly silly remark. "The lines were down, my dear Evaline. Isn't that
the reason for my employer to meet you at doorstep instead of landline?"
At that the
grandmother laughed, and so on the grandfather laughed. However the girl did
not.
They had moved to
the couches where the elderly couple sat together, the girl staring at them
from a seat afar. As the young girl sat
there, applying conversing skills to the scenario in front of her, her thoughts
trailed to the curiosity at hand. There seemed a magic placed upon the night,
where her lies subjected to profitable outcome. Where lies solely lead to the
demise of herself, the nasty old habit she had acquired, tonight the outcome
came around. So as of now she felt herself in a dark place, as the grandmother
had once been, for she had no thoughts of how this came to be.
Before the laughs
echoed too deep into the night, there was a reason for pause. A thundering
crash sounded through the tiny cottage, ripping through the peace the old
couple had thoroughly created together.
"What in the
heavens was that?" asked the grandmother.
"It sounded
from the shed," noted the girl.
The shed sat
solemnly against the house where storage was kept. The three inhabitants trudged through banks
to open the shed, where they found part of the roof had collapsed.
"Oh,
heavens," The grandmother fretted.
The black eyes fell
upon the young woman again, and she could not contain her shivers, as they were
not from the chilling night.
"Get the
ladder," said the man as he gathered some tools. She was reluctant to do
so, knowing the concrete ground was slippery where the snow had fallen from the
roof. But too afraid to decline, she did as told.
The old man got to
work as the ladder was handed to him. He began to repair the roof, then,
managing some of the larger pieces of wood back into their place. The
grandmother watched from a distance, now. She felt the icy temperatures set
upon her frail body as her teeth chattered. The young girl stood even further
away from her grandfather, also feeling the coldness grip her.
Suddenly the wooden
ladder splintered as another crash filled the doomed air. The old woman and the
young girl watched in horror as the grandfather fell from his heightened
position onto the floor. His hammer fell along with him, and managed to crack
his skull open when he hit concrete. The grave came closer to the woman as she
stared at the gory scene in front of her, but she ran away from it, out into
the night.
"Nanna!"
cried the younger girl. But like her grandmother, she too ran from the gruesome
scene.
Inside the house she
set out in pursuit of the landline. In the kitchen she found the phone and
dialed 911, hoping the line would work, hoping that even though the roads were
closed, that some men could come to help.
She ran back and
forth between her two loved ones, her heart a time bomb. Only so much time
could pass before she felt ready to explode. It was her third time running back
to her grandfather, but before she could throw herself into the dead of night
there was a knock on the door.
Throwing it open,
she led a man in uniform to the garage. She wasted no time at all, fearing for
herself, for her loved ones.
"He's right
over here-"
Her breath caught
short as she saw the scene in front of her. The old man was gone. A twisted
fear crept inside her being, tapping the bomb that lay within.
"Miss,"
said the sheriff in warning.
She stay still, now
completely frozen. What could have happened? What did she do wrong? For there
was no blood in sight, nor a body, not even a gaping hole in their shed.
"My
grandmother…she saw it." She led the man to her grandmother's room where
she had set her down to rest. With each step she felt something draw closer,
however she knew not what it was.
When the door to her
nanna's room was opened she knew now what it was. It was the darkness of her
grandmother's grave that neared closer. And now it has arrived.
A chilly gust swept
up from the open door and with a groaning whine from the young woman, came the
moment for the sheriff to touch her shoulder in sympathy. For there, in the
wavering light of the residence which sat in dread, was the bed across, inhabiting
a lifeless and frozen body.
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