Paradise Island: Complete Edition (36 page)

What was I thinking going up these stairs? What if there was a spirit up there waiting for me?
There’s no such things as spirits, Sophie
. That’s nonsense. You’ve read far too many gothic novels, and do they ever have real spirits in them? No, but if it wasn’t a spirit, what else could it be? A madwoman locked up in the attic? A sick family secret? Perhaps an unwanted child with mental problems that was kept secret? Perhaps even Jack’s child, for he was a bit of a whore, wasn’t he? Fucking anything that would spread its legs, including his brother’s girlfriend. I went up step by step and almost fell halfway through when I heard that terrible noise again. I was right, this was the source of it, but was I willing to see what it actually was? Was I willing to unravel this mystery? Finally, I managed to stand in front of the door and slowly I turned the knob, and then pushed. Nothing. I tried the knob again. The darned thing was locked! I stormed downstairs in a rage, determined to find the keys or some kind of tool to break in. The noise was driving me crazy. Then I got an idea. I went up the stairs and stood in front of the locked door.

“Anybody in there?” I said several times and put my ear to the door. I thought I could hear someone shuffling about but there was no response. Perhaps whoever they kept up here was mute and mostly tied up?

I made my way down those stairs again this time determined more than ever to see what the hell was up there. I went to the kitchen first and looked through every drawer. I found a couple of keys dangling from a hook and took them with me. I looked around for more and spotted some hanging on a wall. Armed with a dozen or so keys I made my way up to the attic, each step now more determined than the last. There was no hesitation this time. I tried all the keys one by one, hoping that each one would be the one, but to no avail. No key fit quite right, and I dropped them all down in frustration. It was quite a mess and I had to guess which key belonged where again. I went back to the kitchen and put the keys where I found them, hoping that I didn’t mess up the key system too bad as I put the other set back on the wall. I thought about where I’d keep secret attic keys if this was my house and the only thought that came to my head was my bedroom. I needed to find Margaret’s bedroom and I was sure I had a way in to the attic. They wouldn’t be home for hours from what I could gather, so I had plenty of time to explore. Suddenly I thought about security. If there was any, I certainly couldn’t see any evidence of it. No alarm keyboard, no cameras, no lasers. It all felt a bit silly but I spent the next half hour opening every door, one by one, until I found myself on the top floor in what definitely looked like a woman’s bedroom. There was a mirror stand with all kinds of perfumes and a jewelry box even. I looked through the drawers first but found no hidden key. Then I looked in the jewelry box, opening every little nook and cranny until finally I saw what looked like an antiquated key hidden among some silver necklaces.

“Bingo!” I yelled out and immediately felt weird about it. I was presumably alone in the house, so I didn’t know why I felt the need to pronounce things out loud. Perhaps it was a way of keeping myself sane, but whether it was, I clutched the key like it was the most precious thing in the world and made my way up to the attic again. This time I was more composed, because this time I was sure I had the key, so I wasn’t really in that big a hurry. Once I made my way to the attic door, I slowly and surely put the key in and turned, and to my relief, the door opened.

What I found was not what I was expecting at all. I don’t even know what I was expecting. A secret prison, holding some helpless man or woman? Silly, gothic novel ideas, that much was clear. What I found instead was an attic full of stuff. Old stuff. Stuff obviously from Jack’s childhood. Action figures. Movie posters. Boxes full of Christmas decorations. Besides being full, the attic was also very dusty and the window in the corner didn’t nearly let in enough light because of how much debris it had on it. I made my way carefully to the window, the wood beneath my feet creaking uncomfortably. Nobody had walked up here for ages. I wondered if I’d fall through the floor, and if I survived, I wondered how I’d explain myself to Jack, and especially to his mother Margaret, who kind of scared me if I was being honest.

I looked through the small opening and looked down on the courtyard below, where the cars were parked. It was empty now, but pretty soon it would hold two or three cars at least, as Brandon made his way back home. I felt like a heroine in one of my classic novels, and then I remembered the reason why I came up here in the first place. The noise. I froze in place and slowly turned around so the rest of the attic would face me and I wouldn’t have my back to it. I waited and waited, but no sound seemed to come. What had made the noise before? Did I frighten it...him, her away? I took a good look around me, but it was hard to see anything in such a mess. It was plausible that somebody could hide in amongst the boxes and other assorted junk, but why would they want to? This attic didn’t seem like it had been used in years. It certainly hadn’t been sweeped in a long time, I realized, as I saw that I was pretty much covered in dust. I’d definitely need a change of clothes or maybe even a shower before the family came back. After no noise came after a few minutes I took to actually looking at the stuff around me. Most of it was all about Jack and his movies. Lots of posters of the same thing, maybe slightly different.

Frankly, most of it was kind of boring. Except a few pieces of old furniture that looked interesting, this attic was pretty disappointing. I didn’t know why Jack’s mother felt the need to lock the damn place, much less keep the key hidden away in her bedroom, in the jewelry box nonetheless, the supposed place where she kept all her valuables. That made me realize something: that there must be something important up here if she was so careful to keep it locked away.

Secrets in the attack. Memories in the attic, was more like it. Most of them child’s toys. Boys’ toys. A lot of stuff from Jack’s childhood career, that was for sure. I sat down by the window sill. I didn’t even try to wipe it away first because I was so dirty already. Pretty soon, I grew bored of looking at things that didn’t seem that interesting and left the attic behind. Perhaps the sound had come from somewhere else? Though now that I thought about it, I hadn’t heard the sound since I entered the attic, maybe even before that. I was so happy about finding the right key that I didn’t really pay much attention to anything besides that. It was all quite strange and I reminded myself that I should ask Jack about the noise. He grew up in this house, so it made sense that he’d be the one to know. At least I hoped he would, because strange noises whose source was mysterious at best gave me the creeps.

I locked the door behind me and returned the key where I found it in Margaret’s room. I slowly closed the door behind me and berated myself for being so foolish. Perhaps Margaret liked the idea of having all her son’s stuff in one place, but if she cared so much about it, why did she leave it up there to rot and dust with age? It didn’t make much sense.

I
walked slowly through the house, expecting to hear that sound again, but nothing came. It was quite strange to be alone in such a big place. I longed to have Jack’s hands around me. To feel his warmth. To breathe in his smell. I knew I’d feel much better with Jack by my side. I made my way back to our bedroom and took off the dirty clothing I wore and took what I thought would be a quick shower, which turned into a long bath. The bathtub was so big and spacious I couldn’t resist filling it up with hot water and just laying back, relaxing in its warmth. If I couldn’t have Jack’s warmth with me, this one would do just fine for now.

I relaxed in the tub, feeling clean and warm, and for the first time in a long time I wondered what death would feel like. The water was clear, and becoming lukewarm, so I didn’t think anything of putting my head under it. I tried to hold my breath for as long as possible, but quickly went up for air in no time. I wondered how anybody could drown themselves willingly. It seemed like it would take an incredible amount of will to just stay under water, when the biological need to come up for air was so strong. If one could have enough strength to stay under water, why couldn’t one have enough strength to keep living? It seemed much easier to me to keep breathing than to force myself to stop.

I closed my eyes and just relaxed for a bit, aware of any minute noise that decided to make itself known. Then I started to hear thumping from every side of the house it seemed. Thump from the left. Thump from the right. Thump from below. Thump from above. My body shivered with fear despite the warm water it was in. Thump. Thump. Thump. Someone was in the house and I was naked in the bathtub. Is it possible that they had already returned home? I quickly got out of the tub and dried myself off with a big fluffy towel. I put some fresh clothes on from the ones I hu ng in the closet and dried my hair with the towel as best as I could.

Thump. Thump. Thump. If I wasn’t going crazy, I would say that the noises were getting louder all around me. Just the sound of footsteps or whatever the hell it was, but creepily no voices. I slowly got out of the bedroom and listened again but this time I heard nothing. Then behind me. I turned around in the hallway but saw nothing.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder and quickly turned around to face its owner. Lucy’s bloody shattered head looked back at me and she hissed, spitting blood in my face as she did, “You killed me!”

I wanted to say that technically Jack was the one who killed her, but before I had a chance she put her arms around my throat, which I noticed seemed to be decaying, and she choked me. “Die, bitch, die!” she hissed in my face, splattering my face with more of her blood.

I woke up in the bathtub, water over my face, my own hands clutching my throat. I coughed a bit of water and had the strong desire to scream, but I seemed to have lost my voice. It was just a dream, Sophie, I told myself. It was just dream.

I shivered all over. The water was more cold than warm now and I got the hell out of the bathtub. I didn’t even remember falling asleep but now I felt like I was in some horror movie and there was a killer with an axe behind every corner. I quickly dried off, for real this time, and just kneeled down and cried. Hot tears streaming down my face, I sobbed and sobbed. What the hell was happening to me? Was it this creepy house I was in? Or was it me? My own guilt that made these things happen?

After having a good cry about it I quickly dressed and laid on the bed, my mostly wet hair on the fluffy towel. I wasn’t really sure what was real or not anymore. Did I actually hear any noises before? Did I actually go up to the attic, or was that all a dream, too? It couldn’t have been, could it?

I thought I might have been losing my mind. If only Jack was here, none of this would be happening. The little episode I had back on Ravenswood island was because I was all alone. And now I was all alone as well. I wished now that Rory had come with us, so I would never be alone, though I knew it would probably look weirder to his family then even just bringing me along.

Eventually, after hours spent being restless and afraid of every noise, which only got worse as the sun set and darkness came, I finally heard cars approaching and I waited by the open door for them to come in. Aidan and Jack helped get Brandon out and into a wheelchair and then they pushed him up the homemade ramp, using all their muscles to do so. It was quite a sight. Hunter carried a couple of bags of luggage without much effort, and last was Margaret, who looked upon her four sons with something that could be called either pride or mild disapprovement. I said hi to Brandon, and he nodded, but he seemed pretty out of it.

“Lots of painkillers,” Jack said as they wheeled him past me and to the room we prepared on the first floor. Hunter let his mother pass and she came in before him, a disapproving look on her face as she passed me that only I could see. I was glad Hunter was last, because if his mother was, I might have just left the door open and went upstairs to Jack’s room. Hunter grinned when he saw me. “I hope you didn’t get too antsy all alone in this big house,” he said as he went past me with the luggage and towards Brandon’s new room.

“A little bit,” I lied as I closed the door behind him. I followed him back to where they all were, tucking Brandon into bed. Margaret already sat by his side, making sure he was alright.

Aiden stayed behind a little bit while Jack joined me by the door. Hunter was still busy putting some of the luggage in the closet. “We won’t have to unpack these for awhile,” he said, and everyone in the room, especially Margaret, looked at him crossly. “What?” he said. “He ain’t getting out of that bed anytime soon.”

I wanted to laugh but I held it back, though it would probably help take some of the attention away from what Hunter said.

“You can be so insensitive sometimes,” Aidan finally said and  went back to seeing how Brandon was doing. It was hard to gauge Brandon’s reaction, but underneath the drug addled state, I thought I saw a hint of a smile.

Jack took me aside then and I followed him to the kitchen. As soon as the doors closed behind us I threw myself into his arms. “Oh, Jack,” I said. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“What’s wrong?” he said, still hugging me tight.

“This house. I was here all alone and I heard noises.” I didn’t want to tell him about my nightmare, or should I say daymare. I didn’t want him to think I was losing it again.

He loosened his embrace. “This is an old house, Sophie, it’s probably just settling or something with the pipes. I’ve heard it since I was a child.”

“Oh,” I said, suddenly feeling dumb. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. But I’m glad you missed me anyway.” He pushed his body against mine and leaned in close for a kiss. I returned it hungrily. It was good to have him so close again. I didn’t know if I could last another day without him. I kissed him and held onto him for dear life. I wanted him to take me right there on the kitchen table, but I knew it was impossible, with his whole family in the house. I pushed my desires back down, and untangled myself from his passionate embrace.