She could hear them living all through the house.
She didn't know when they slept or ate. Probably when she was gone. Because when she came back, whenever she came back, they were waiting for her.
The only way she could get away from them was to leave the house. But there wasn't really anywhere to go. Except the diner across the road. But she could only stay there so long. She would get a coffee and sip it slowly. She would look out the window. And she could see them watching her. Waiting for her.
Sometimes, after coffee, she would walk down to the old deserted dock. She couldn't see them anymore when she did that. But not being able to see them left her feeling vulnerable. Because even though they tormented her, they also protected her. She knew they would never let anything else hurt her. Because they wanted her for themselves.
They didn't like it when she left. When she returned, they looked at her with hard, cold eyes. They said nothing, but their anger hung in the air. Like icicles.
She had only told one other person about them, Thelda.
Thelda was the only one who understood. So when she saw Thelda on the dock, the only place she ever saw Thelda, she would talk about them. She couldn't help herself. Thelda was her only friend. The only one she could trust.
They didn't like it when she talked to Thelda. She would always pay a price when she returned. But she had to talk to somebody.
One cold misty morning at the dock, Thelda told her what to do. How to get rid of them forever. Thelda told her to burn her house down. It wasn't much of a house anyway. A shack, really. Nothing to miss.
As soon as Theda said it, it made perfect sense. Thelda said she had an extra room and she could move in with her.
So the next morning, before she left for the diner, she gathered a few things together. She didn't want to take much, because she didn't want to arouse their suspicions.
As she left, she casually doused the kitchen curtains with cooking oil and lit a candle. As the curtains caught the flame, she walked out the door.
She walked over to the diner. She felt wonderfully light. And free.
After coffee, she took her bundle and walked to Thelda's house, following the written directions Thelda had given her.
It was a small dark house, encroached with overgrowth. Trees hung over the house as if ready to swallow it whole.
She opened the door. The house was even darker inside than out. Thelda sat in a rocking chair in the corner. A single candle flickered on a heavy wooden table.
After several minutes of silence, Thelda looked at her with hard cold eyes. She said nothing, but her anger hung in the air. Like icicles.
Spiritual questions:
- Who or what is following you?
- What have you tried to get rid of them?
- What would it be like to be free?
Nov 19, 2018 - This piece was written at the Roundhouse Writing Group, Santa Cruz, Guatemala. The writing prompt for the session was: She could hear them living all through the house.
The photo is by Kate Hannon, made available via Flickr and Creative Commons. Some rights reserved.
