Who is great aunt Marie and why should you care?
Well, she kind of became relevant this morning. I did mention her before when Alexander was setting fire to my uniform but you probably already forgot. I said she was the one who paid my two grand security deposit fee.
Here's another fact; my dad fell in love with his now-wife while visiting her seven years ago.
She lives in a tiny village called Greendale, six hour train ride from Melrose. It sits at the bottom of a chiseled mountain, hidden by clouds, draped in trees and surrounded by utter nothingness.
She's my grandmother's sister. She's old and ill. In fact, she's been in a wheelchair for almost 25 years. She loves chess and I figured it gave her a sense of mobility but I never dared to ask.
Why am I talking about her? You probably don't give a rat's ass.
Well..
"My great aunt Marie's caretaker is leaving for a week and I'm filling in for her.." I announce, putting my cafeteria tray down on the table and sitting down next to Emily and Victoria, "there goes my thanksgiving break" I grab my burger and take a bite.
I wish I was told about this sooner and not two days before I'm supposed to leave. Aunt Marie's nurse called mom this morning to tell her they had a shortage of people during the holidays and there was no one to fill in.
"You're going to Greendale?" Emily asked, grabbing a fry from Victoria' plate and I nodded.
"I have to stay with her until her nurse comes back, which, don't get me wrong, it's fine, I don't mind, but helping Aunt Marie move anywhere is a workout.." I whined.
She has a wheelchair accessible house but she can't lift herself up since she' a heavy women. I have to do it and I'm no bodybuilder. I spent last summer helping her and I got biceps out of it.
"Greendale?" Victoria interrupted, "Miles Estate owns a property there, a lake house..." she added and I rolled my eyes.
Yeah, shocker! Alexander's dad is so loaded; he has a house in every town that's ever existed.
"Who cares?" I shrugged, a sight feeling of hypocrisy creeping its way into me.
I did care a little.
If you're wondering what happened at his house the other day. We studied and that was it. He was cold, professional and incredibly petty. When it got dark out, he told River to drop me home and left without looking at me.
He took the makeup quiz the next morning and I have yet to find out how much he got. He didn't show up for school for another week afterwards.
He sure misses classes a lot. For a while I've wondered how the school was okay with that but then again, this is a private school.
"They're renovating the mansion for winter, who knows, you two might meet there and realize it's fate that keeps bringing you together and not karma!" she sung ironically as she opened the ketchup pack and poured it all over her fries and I made the ugliest eye roll that has ever dawned on the history of optic vision.
Karma? I didn't do anything to deserve the utter psychological agony that is Alexander Miles.
I shrugged what she said about meeting as an unfortunate joke. Little did I know...
"Aside the fact that you guys despise each other, love and hate are two horns on the same goat.." She smirked and Emily laughed at my unamused face.
My optic nerves were going to knot together if I kept rolling my eyes so much. Yet I did just that once again.
First of all, I'm the only one who despises the other. It's not mutual on his side. He made it clear on many occasions that he enjoyed my presence. Or rather enjoyed getting a rise out of me.
Second of all, the chances of us meeting at Greendale are very slim. Fact is, even if I were to find out he was in town. I would not make any efforts to see him. I'm taking this chance to escape from town and recharge my batteries. Be cut off from everything and do some soul searching and more studying.
I would have invited Hong along with me but he's been busy with his brother's move.
"..And love and indifference are two polar opposites, therefore, I couldn't care less about him, where he is or what he does..."I shrugged and she narrowed her eyes at me.
"Is that really true or did you repeat that to yourself some much that you started believing it?..." She frowned and I almost chocked on my coffee.
Actually, I repeated that to myself so much but the more I say it, the less I believe it.
"Are you exited to see Simba?" Emily changed the subject at my uneasiness and I loved her for that.
"I really am!"
"Who's Simba?" Victoria stuffed her face and my smile got bigger as I thought about him.
"He's my dog!" I answer, giddy.
"I've never smelled any dogs on you.." she frowned and I looked up at her.
What a weird statement to make. Why would anybody smell my dog on me? I should've paid more attention to that but I didn't.
See, I developed this habit in this school where if someone says or does something that looks oddly uncanny, I'll shrug it off. Big mistake.
"He stays in Greendale with great aunt Marie. She got him for me when I was 7 but I couldn't keep him because mom is allergic" I explained.
I love him all the way to the neighboring galaxy and back.
And with that being said, two days later, I was now dragging my luggage through the train station. Alone. Mom was working.
It's fine. I'm used to it.
In fact, I could navigate this train station with my eyes closed.
When dad and mom were going through the divorce. My mom morphed into a drinking, depressed, child neglecting mess. She was admitted to a mental health rehab facility for three months while I was thrown like a ping-pong ball from town to town to stay with various relatives. Some were good, some were tense. Some were uncomfortable and cold and some were overly welcoming and above compensating to the point of reaching mild levels of condescendingness.
I was thankful for that experience; abandonment builds independence. Hardships build wisdom. Pain builds strength and bullying builds confidence, but only with time.
It's sad to say this train station was where I spent most of my time. Waiting makes you do a lot of thinking, despite their utter darkness, I liked being alone with my thoughts.
The six hour train ride was absolute numbness. Train motions always bring back heavy flashbacks to me, they play in my head like a movie. I get tempted to change them slightly in hopes of making myself feel better.
I fought the urge to look out the window the whole time and be emerged into a daydream where my life would be unrealistically too good. Giving me a temporary high. Those were dreaded for me. Like an easy access drug that made you float but no one knew you were taking it, it's infinite, limitless, accessible anytime, anywhere and seemingly inoffensive.
But like any drug, it gets addictive. I'm a realist at heart.
Real life is where real effort is invested in exchange for real rewards.
Once the view of Greendale's forest came about in the window. I started feeling again. Excitement for a change of location. Cold for we were nearing a snow-capped mountain.
The train station was very busy but the more people I saw, the loneliest I felt.
Here's the bitter part about getting off a train and having no one to hug you. Heading for the bus station while everyone around you were going into their cars. I admit. I felt very underprivileged and neglected. Hence the overly lyrical and semi-emo poetic claptrap. This is one of my worst moods yet.
But I am aware that some people have it worse so I don't dwell on it.
Besides, once I exited the bus and made my way to my aunt's house, her nurse opened the door for me and before I could step inside, I was greeted with Simba.
Or rather his tongue.
And that greeting made everything else seem insignificant. He was a ten year old golden retriever. Yes, very old for a dog, yet he was jumping, licking, snorting, standing on two legs and wagging his tail at me like he always does when he sees me. The thought that he only had five more years to go made my throat twist.
His enthusiasm was like a sprinkle of happy pixie dust. Truly man's best friend.
I put my bag down at the door and greeted the nurse. She was going to stay for three more days before I would take over.
I made my way to the living room and there she was. An old chubby lady wrapped in a thick wool white knitted cardigan with a blanket on her legs, she was sitting on her wheelchair with like five remotes on the table next to her along with a few pills and a half-empty bowl of chicken soup, probably watching her stories on her thick old TV from 1983. She had pink fuzzy socks on and green crocs and very fine grey hair that curled to her sides.
She looked at me from over her gold framed round glasses then took about nine million years to recognize me. She then smiled and tried to raise a shaky hand my way and I went to her side immediately.
Oh yeah, the shaky hand was because she had Parkinson's.
"How are you doing Aunt Marie?" I smiled and she pulled my arm in a hug and I no longer felt underprivileged.
"Oh, my little girl!" She smelled like gingerbread with a hint of peppermint, her hand was all over my head and face and arms, like she was trying to feel if I was eating enough, "how's your mom?" she asked in her old cracked voice and I pulled away.
"She's great! She says "Hi"!" I sat next to her with my hand on hers and she squeezed in tight.
"Good! How are you? Oh, you look tired!" she asked and I felt all warm and fuzzy. It was meaningful having someone ask how I was doing. We take these small things for granted until we don't have them. I breathed out.
This was truly home.
No Markus. No threat. No authority figure. No school. No pressure. No people. No obligations. Just my dog and a loving grandma, in a warm cozy house in the middle of nowhere.
Helping her move around for a week didn't seem like a chore anymore. I was eager.
It was about 7:30PM when I got there and we talked for an hour before the nurse finally broke off our little gathering to ask me if I wanted dinner.
Aunt Marie told me to eat and go to bed right after. Like she always does. I kissed her goodnight and did just that.
The room I stayed in once belonged to dad. Although I hated him, I loved his room. It smelled like old books all the time. It had a bookcase filled with stuff I never actually bothered to look through. An old record player and a tiny red TV with antennas on his desk and basically that was it. I hated walking upstairs thought because the floor was old wood and it would creek like hell whenever I stepped on it, revealing with exact precision where anyone in the house was headed.
Still, being in this really soft bed right now under a thick blanket with Simba lying on my feet, cutting the blood circulation out.
I was comfortable and safe.
And so, the story actually begins the day after that.
Because that was when I realized that Victoria might be the distant relative of the wicked witch of the west, or a fortune teller, a future predicting gipsy.
Remember when she said they were doing renovations to the lake house that belonged to the Miles family? Well, hang in tight to that memory.
I woke up that morning to the smell of gingerbread and coffee filling the halls. I walked out of my room into the kitchen to find Aunt Marie. She was sitting at the table. She had a pretty blue floral jacket over a black turtleneck. She had a pearl necklace dangling from her collar and was heavily focused on the view outside the window.
The door opened and an old gentleman I recognized instantly made his way in.
"'morning Alexa!" said the man and I beamed. Aunt Marie finally took notice of me.
I present to you; Mister Wilson.
He was Aunt Marie's neighbor and good friend. He was a short, brown skinned, retired journalist. His hair was white and seemingly receding. He had a thick white mustache over his big smile.
There are some people in this word that you don't really know that well but have unexplained love and respect for and Mister Wilson was one of them. It's his soul. I adored him.
"Good morning Mister Wilson!" I was smiling from one ear to the other. It almost hurt.
" 'tis about damn time she came to visit again, don't you think?" he asked my aunt with a heavy country accent.
"I wouldn't want to take her away from Suzie!" She shook her head and I caught that immediately and it was like a spear to my heart.
After my mom got out of rehab, the dynamic was toxic in our house. I was the adult of the two. I not only had to take care of myself but her as well. She would pass out drunk while the stove was on. Refuse to eat for days until I'd start begging her. Many times I came from school and stumbled across the living room to find her gun with a single bullet in it out on the table. She always loaded, she never shot herself. I would unload it with tears in my eyes and put it back in the drawer, sobbing frantically. The next morning, it would be loaded again. Ready.
I was a nine year old little girl. Whenever someone asked me how things were I said "good", I did not want to go into foster care.
When she met Markus. The gun stayed unloaded from that day onward, and that hurt me. Alot.
That was enough for me to realize I wasn't really her rock, but Markus was. I take the abuse silently because of that little fact. Because losing a second chance at love would give her a good reason to finally shoot. Because I wasn't an enough reason and it really hurt. For all I've been through, I still wasn't considered. Not even a little. Not by dad, not by mom. Not by anyone.
"True that! Let me tell you, it's real good to see you!"He said to me and I scratched my head.
"It's been hectic lately; I'll try to visit more during winter break!" I explained and he chuckled.
"That's alright; don't go forcing yourself now, I'm happy to just know you're doing good! How's your mama?" He asked.
The nurse came in at the same moment and looked at me.
"You're up Alexa? Would you like some breakfast?" She suggested and I nodded.
"She's good!" I said to him.
I was suddenly a little embarassed. I was still in the clothes I slept in, my hair was a messy ponytail, and I was bare feet. Maybe I should've gotten dressed first.
"Sit down honey, I'll pour you some tea" the nurse suggested.
By the way;
If you're wondering why I call her "the nurse" and not by her name. It's because I forgot it.
It sounds shallow but it truly completely escaped my mind and I couldn't remember it. I only saw her once for a split second in the summer. Since she remembered my name the minute we saw each other again yesterday, it felt rude to ask again. So now I had my ears wide open for when anybody calls her by her name so I can register that.
We talked. I sat down on the table with them and started munching on my toast and tea quickly. The nurse put a jar of homemade strawberry jam next to me.
"So what are your plans for today?" she asked.
"Mainly studying, but I was thinking about taking Simba for a hike first..."I answer without losing a beat.
See, I had six hours in the train to think about my week: I divided my days between Simba, Aunt Marie and studying.
Simba hardly goes on walks. The caretaker takes him sometimes but she can't go too far as she needs to be within my aunt's disposal at all times. Sometimes the only outside time he gets is in the backyard.
He was getting chubby and slow.
So while the nurse was here, I was going to make use of these three first days to take care of Simba. It's not much time but every bit helps. If I could afford to hire a dog walker, I would.
When the nurse leaves on Friday, I could take care of Aunt Marie for the remaining of the week. Stay in the house all day with her and just study in my corner. Take Simba for quick walks around the neighborhood when I can.
"That's very good!" Aunt Marie praised and Mister Wilson tapped Simba on the back.
"What about it, old champ? Could use a little run out in the wild, huh?" he asked as if Simba could answer and I chuckled.
"So, where are you taking him?" the nursed asked and I looked out the window to evaluate the weather.
"Probably Black Pine Wood" I shrugged and Mister Wilson looked my way in unexplained concern while the nurse seemed pensive.
Black pine wood was a well known forest in Greendale. It started high on the mountain and spilled all over the bottom. The trees were massive.
I had only one memory about those woods when I was little and it was so miraculous it almost felt like a dream.
"That's a good place for hikes, but you're not familiar with those woods, you might get lost.." the nurse scratched her chin.
"Or hurt.." Mister Wilson added and we all turned our heads to face him.
Huh?
My eyes went sideways before returning back to him.
"wh..why would I get hurt?" I was starting to slightly feel discouraged.
Do junkies, drug addicts or potential serial killers hide in those woods?
"You never heard of the Hellhound in the Black Pine Wood?" he said and my aunt chuckled.
"What is that?" It was good to know the nurse was as confused as me.
"Those old folklore stories..." Aunt Marie shook her head in amusement and he chuckled as well.
"I'm just saying, every story has a source..." He leaned on the back of his chair and I swallowed my bread, hard.
"I ain't never gone in those woods by myself!" He warned and I blinked.
The nurse seemed as clueless as I was.
"The Hellhound of Black Pine Wood?" I asked and he nodded.
So, I'll tell you the story as I heard it from him.
A few years ago, on one snowy winter night, an angry, massive half-wolf, and half-demon beast emerged from the Black Pine Woods into the village of Greendale.
It had black fur as any Hellhound would, sharp teeth, incredible force and a thirst for human blood. They said it came out to cleanse the town off the sullied and bring the rotten souls into hell with it. Legend says it attacked many homes, to which were now abandoned. Causing many deaths and turning that white snowy night into a flaming scarlet blood bath.
He was gone before they could hunt him down.
You'd think a mass slaughter from a wild beast would be on the newspaper or something. They said everyone has been silenced about the issue. Anyone who swore they witnessed it before denied ever telling the story the following day.
I believed that story, in a sense where when he said "every story had a source" I silently figured out a few things while he was talking.
That black wolf did exist.
Granted, he was just a basic wolf, yeah he was huge, but not a demonic hellhound. I'm guessing some people saw him as well and let their collective imagination do the work.
I say "saw him as well" because earlier, when I said that I had one single memory in those woods and it was magical, it was because I've been to those woods before. And I saw that black wolf with my own eyes.
I was seven. I came with my dad to visit Aunt Marie like every summer and he parked on the side of the road to go pee. I walked out of the car to pick daisies and make a bouquet for her.
At first, I started out only reaching for the ones at hand. Wildly growing on the side of the road. But those were muddy, dying, some of them were crushed from cars parking on them. They were gross.
Then the patch of daisies a little bit inside the forest seemed in better shape, more tempting. I walked over to it. Straying slightly out of the car area but not too far.
Then the patch ahead looked like it had bigger, more vibrant flowers. This went on for a long time. With each new path of flowers in the woods seemingly more appealing to my eyes than the one before, I lost sens of time and direction. I thought I would just look over my shoulder and the car would be there but once I looked back, I saw yards and yards of trees.
I found myself deep in the forest with a huge bouquet in my hand. I thought I knew the direction of the car but long story short, who was I kidding?
I was undoubtedly lost. And in that moment of confusion and panic, I came face to face with a wolf.
Dare I say he was the wolf they were talking about? Not that I believe the Hellhound story, but he was a black wolf with eyes that I'm guessing were brown but seemed red from the light.
He wasn't angry, or dangerous.
In fact, when I say it was miraculous, there's a good reason.
When I finally got dressed and put a leash on Simba, I went downstairs to put on my boots, I found Mister Wilson sitting on the porch, reading the local newspaper, probably waiting for Aunt Marie to come out the bathroom so they could start their usual weekend chess tournament.
Mister Wilson was the only man we knew who could beat the living shit out of my aunt in chess. She's really good but he's better.
"People missing, people found headless, we sure living in scary times" he shook his head and I nodded.
"Rather with scary people.." I corrected and he put the newspaper down before taking a long, good look at me. He then smiled.
"You seem different!" he analyzed.
"Huh?" I raised an eyebrow at him and he shook his finger my way.
"It's good different." he continued, "You don't seem lost no more, you rather look like you're looking forward to something.." he wiggled his eyebrows at me, "You like somebody?" he concluded and I chocked on my saliva.
"Mister Wilson!" I exclaimed embarrassed and he chuckled.
"I'm gon' take that as a yes" he teased and I felt, not just my cheeks but my entire existence go red.
This is why he beats Aunt Marie at chess like a piñata at a birthday party. He was sharp and observant. I had no idea how he caught that I changed by just looking at me.
"He treat you right?" he asked and in an instant, Alexander's face came to my mind automatically and I lowered my head.
"Not even a little a bit..." I admitted.
Wait, why was I talking about him?
When he asked if I liked somebody. I initially thought about Cole Brown.
So why am I thinking about Alexander now? I don't like that idiot. He just popped like an annoying survey add on a browser page.
"Well then he can go on and find himself another dishrag to fool around with!" he reassured and I smiled.
"forget it, I don't actually like him..." as I said those word, I couldn't help the huge grin that stretched over my lips and he shook his head.
"You don't seem to hate him.." he asked and I wiped off the smile quickly.
Shoot! He's going to think I have someone that I like now. As I swallowed and prepared to deny my whole entire existence, the nurse's head popped out of the door.
"We're just waiting for you now Wilson!" she asked and he slowly got up from the porch swing, his knees seemingly hurting from the movement, "Alexa honey, take an umbrella, just in case.." she added and I nodded.
"I will, thanks!" I smiled at her and Mister Wilson brushed passed me while she got back inside.
"Just remember, a man's great expression of love is how he treats you!"Â he lectured and I smiled "He might not say it, but he will show it!" he was shaking his finger at me with every word, " He will protect you, care about your well being and belongings and most importantly won't hesitate to make sacrifices for you! " he tapped me on the shoulder and I breathed out.
Solid advice.
"You make sure you be with some' who treat you right!" he repeated before walking inside and I nodded.
I might not apply it to Alexander but I will think about it once I actually have someone in my life.
Good talk.
I think it bothered him I said he didn't treat me right. Mister Wilson was a second father figure to me in some way as well as a friend.
As I walked through the woods with Simba right on my heals, I kept repeating Mister Wilson's words in my head.
They seemed like words we've all heard over and over again. Every self help book tells you these things and they're very obvious too. But when you put them to the test, they really start sounding new.
Actually, now that I think about it. Alexander doesn't show any of those signs. Not even one.
"Protect you" He bruises me up every time he touches me.
"Respect you" let's not talk about all his groping, hugging, hair tugging and sexual innuendos he throws my way all the time.
"Care about your belongings" literally burned my uniform to the dust.
"Make sacrifices" had a random girl he hooked up with submit his assignment part and got me a C when he could've done it himself so much better in less time.
"Care about your well being" He made me cry twice now, I counted.
I took the leash off of Simba and he started going around sniffing the ground and the bases of the trees and just plain urinating on every one.
Making those realizations made me sad. Whenever I think Alexander cares a little about me. A simple evaluation of his behavior can show that he's really just messing with me.
Simba's tail was now wagging like crazy. He would stop at random places to sniff longer than others. Run around me or himself. Sometimes, he'd lift his head at a tree to see a squirrel or a bird and bark twice. I always took it as him saying "Hi".
We kept moving forward and I decided not to dwell on Alexander anymore.
Seriously, I can't live up to my own words now?
Love in opposition of indifference!
I need to be indifferent.
That's it! I don't care about him!
I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care.
The sound of leaves breaking under my feet was soothing. It was really cold out and a huge cloud was hiding the sky.
The cold air was like tiny needles in my lungs but in a good way, it woke me up. The tip of my nose and fingers was ice, the bottom of my feet hurt as my boots weren't ideal for hikes but I didn't pack anything else. We walked for a while, I made sure to take short breaks so Simba could rest. He was an old dog after all. He seemed to be having the time of his life exploring new places. Last summer I only took him to parks and playgrounds. The woods were new territory to him.
The nurse told me people hike here all the time so when Simba seemed to catch a smell and start trailing it ahead. I figured someone with a dog was ahead of us.
However, Simba seemed to get really excited and started moving way too fast for my two poor human legs. I called out to him but he didn't slow down one bit.
I was actually just about to decide the hike was over and turn back. We've been out for fours and half hours. I called Simba to me and that's when I got a little anxious.
He wasn't listening. At all. He kept getting farther.
I called again and made motion that I was turning back so he'd follow me. But he didn't even look my way.
"Simba, come! Heal!" I yelled while he was way ahead and he finally stopped but not because of me. He was about 26 yards away from me and was looking to the right in an alarmed stance, like he spotted someone or something. I called out to him again so he wouldn't go to whatever animal or person he saw but he barked and bolted towards where he was looking.
Damn it! I bolted after him.
I felt like my heart was going to explode from the cold air or the montain and the running. Let's just say I was doing a bad job at catching up and when I said my boots weren't ideal for hiking, I wasn't lying. The bottom was too smooth to run over the moist, muddy ground. I slipped and fell, elbow first into a rock and hit my forehead against the trunk of a huge tree.
I felt that. To top it off, I lost trail of Simba.
I wanted to cry. I got up again and bolted towards where I thought he went. Mud all over my jeans and tree branches gripping my clothes and scratching at my face. Almost gouging my eyes a few times. My forehead was throbbing, my elbow was bloody.
Did I care? Fuck no, I risked my dog!
I was getting quickly out of breath and the panic didn't help. I called again, pleading the heavens that'd he'd come back and felt the tears come up my face.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!! Where do I go?
Who do I call? Do I stay put until he comes back? What if he reaches the end of the forest and goes into the highway? What if someone finds him and decides to keep him? What if he sees a squirrel and decides to follow him to Mexico? What if he gets attacked by wild bears or something?
I stopped to catch my breath for a second and regroup. I was panting heavily and starting to feel out of balance. Suddenly, I stopped making any nose to listen in.
The silence and emptiness of the woods was scary. Nothing around me but giant trunks. I didn't notice how big this place was for four hours until right about this one moment when I realize Simba could be anywhere.
Suddenly, I heard his barking again in the distance and I snapped my head towards the sound. God damn it, he sounded so far.
I started running on the grass. I wasn't even on the muddy path anymore. I was going sideways and tripping and slipping over big, massive tree roots.
I didn't let it slow me down but I should have, as I neared a cliff area that didn't come into view until it was too late for me to slow down, but I also tripped once more on a rock and stumbled before falling head first over the cliff.
I was lucky.
I was very lucky.
I could have fractured my skull, however not only was the cliff edge very low, but I landed in a lake.
Granted, the water was freezing cold. But in some weird twisted way, everything I've been through up until this point was so much worse than getting wet that I was just glad I didn't fall into rocks.
The water was up to my waist but when I fell, I got splashed from head to toe.
Let's just say today was not a good day.
I wobbled out of the water coughing my lungs out with dead insects clinging to my clothes. Seaweed in my chest and some weird blobs of slime on my shoulders. The adrenaline rush from the fall made it so that I didn't feel cold right away and I was very energized.
So I put that energy to good use and started crying.
No tears of sadness when Simba disappeared.
No tears of pain when I fell and hit my head on the tree.
But a lot of tears of despair when I got my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans and it was wet and unresponsive.
First of all, now losing a phone. Second of all, I can't call for help!
I noticed a house right outside the edge of the lake and I breathed out.
What am I going to do? The sun was going to set in two hours and I'd be alone in here. I need to find Simba and get the hell back home!
Should I go knock on their door and ask for help?
My head started throbbing and my eyes felt like they were drying out from the cold. The wind blew and I started shivering.
This was bad! This was really bad!
This sucked!
"Things couldn't possibly get worse." I spoke out, tears on both sides of my face.
I'm going to look like a toddler now when I get back home in this state.
But it's like irony was listening in very closely because the moment I said those words, I heard howling in the woods and I flipped my shit.
You know what's worse than coming home looking like this? Not coming home at all.
Wild animals? What in god's name was Simba chasing? Was it a wolf?
I'm hexed. Cursed. I need to go bath in holy water.
How did it get to bad so quick?
I'm going into that house.
They're going to think I'm a homeless lady who lives alone in the woods with fifty cats, but at this point, I need help. I can't do this on my own. Look at the disaster I caused by myself.
If they could just give me a towel and let me call Mister Wilson so he can drive here and we can look for Simba together. That's all I'm asking for.
Let's just hope they're nice people.
I walked over to the lake house and it seemed to just get bigger and bigger as I got near it. The walls were brick and fading into grayness. Moss was growing on the base as well as plants and bushes. The garden was unkept. There were various statues lined up all over the front of the entrance. I felt like I was walking through a creepy, cursed, ghost castle. I walked over to the beautiful wooden door and knocked.
Nothing.
This house was abandoned. I knew it. It looked like an old, run down manor of sorts.
Freaking hell!
I heard howling again and I panicked and started pounding even harder, the door pushed open.
It wasn't close, it was just jammed. When I pushed it again it opened completely and I walked in without hesitation and closed it shut behind me.
Let's regroup here for a second.
I was hiking with my dog. He ran off chasing something and disappeared. I looked for him and fell and hit my elbow and head who were now both bleeding. Tripped over tree roots and fell over a cliff into ice cold lake water. The house I tried to look for help in was abandoned. There are wolves outside. It's going to get dark in a couple hours. My phone was gone so I can't call anyone. The adrenaline was wearing down and I now started feeling extremely tired and cold and sore.
I looked around and hey, at least this house was beautiful.
I was in a giant lobby, and when I say giant, I mean huge. There was literally nothing in it but another door that was half open on the other side and I could see it lead outside. So this house had to entries. The checkered floor was covered in dust and there were two beautiful stair cases facing each other.
This WAS a manor. This place was gorgeous. Why would anyone abandon this?
I breathed in. Feeling my entire body hurt every time I moved my lungs. I coughed again and I felt my ribs ache. My vision was getting blurry so I sat down next to the door and put my legs close against my chest and dropped my head on my knees.
Fuck this day.
I crawled over to the corner, under the big window and stayed in the dark.
I'm just going to breathe in here for a second. Get a little warm and go back out. I have to find him before he gets hurt or runs into wild animals. He's an old, loving, gentle, domestic creature. he won't fight anyone.
I felt myself drift into a comatose state. Maybe it was the crying. Maybe my body was freezing out and losing heat. Maybe it was the running. Maybe the emotional trauma. It felt like my muscles froze one by one and I turned into a human statue as energy drained from me.
To be honest, I didn't want to think about the possibility that Simba was lost. Maybe I was in denial but in my head, he was right outside the corner of this house and I was going to find him. As unrealistic as that could have been.
So I slept without wanting or realizing it. My body and brain gave up.
It could have been two minutes later as much as it could have been two hours, but I woke up from lights coming through the big windows on each side of the door. Unnatural lights. White and red. Car lights.
The sky was now a dark blue that faded into orange hues in the distance. I breathed out.
What time is it?
I heard men talking outside and I freaked out.
I look really bad right now. Intruding into private property and sleeping on the floor.
I needed to get up and walk out, introduce myself, tell them I need to call my aunt's friend so we can look for my dog.
Yes, I needed to do just that. But I couldn't move. I was so frozen; I couldn't even feel my hand when I squeezed my knee. My fingertips were blue. My clothes were humid and stiff. Like cardboard. My hair was curling up into frozen singular strands. I was shaking.
My vision was fuzzy and felt like a white film was placed over my irises.
The door opened and I jumped, feeling my rib ache again.
I didn't even know I hit my rib at one point. Was it during the fall in the water?
Two men walked in.
"We started three days ago with the rooms first, but we stopped because the material delivery was delayed..." the man that first walked in spoke.
"What about the electricity situation?" a familiar voice asked and I blinked.
Oh my god.
NO! This can't be real!
"We fixed it" the first man answered.
Then, the guy who's voice I recognized stopped and in the darkness of the lobby, I saw his silhouette take a couple of sniffs in the air. His head snapped my way and he gasped.
"Alexa?" he asked.
And I gasped as well.
Jay?
Jay as in Victoria's boyfriend?
What's Jay doing here? Out of all people?
The light of the cars flicked and I could see Jay's lips stretch into the biggest, happiest grin I've ever seen. He then, without even saying anything else to me, headed back for the door as fast as possible.
"Dude!!" Jay almost screamed, "I have something that'll fix your mood!" he said to someone outside and I frowned. The man who was standing next to Jay didn't move and just looked at me curious.
It all suddenly clicked in my head.
Lake house. Renovation. Greendale.
Oh god..Oh no!
This house was...
"What are you talking about.." a husky and breathless man voice asked in a bored tone and my heart dropped.
NO! Please ! I know who's voice this is!
"Just come take a look, you'll love this." Jay entered back seemingly exited and behind him slowly followed the one person I dreaded seeing at the moment.
My eyes fell on the big, strong silhouette walking inside, his icy blue eyes hovered over my body and I swallowed. Two men were behind him, following closely like some sort of henchmen. My eyes trailed on his chest. I've never seen him in a suite before. The silky navy blue button up shirt open at the collar and the vest in his hand while his other hand was in his pants poket.
He was a sight.
He stopped for a moment to look at me then it hit us both; I shivered in my corner while a smug and curious look appeared on his face.
I was on his property..
"What brings you to my house, darling?" Alexander asked, walking towards me with his head tilted to the side, curious and I lowered my eyes to the ground.
Kill me!
*****************
EARLY UPDATE? WHO IS SHE?
When I started off, I was told by another author in here that one update a week was good enough, but apparently, that's too slow for alot of people. At least, that's what all the comments are about. I honestly don't know what good pacing is, I'm new to this!
I'll try to update as frequently as my free time allows, I guess. Life does get in the way doe.
Thank you guys for the support. You're amazing and I truly appreciate your feedback and I love reading you!