Sealed With a Kiss

Twenty Five Pt. IV

XXV: Wanted
(last part of this chapter)

I WAS LOST. Up the stairs, down the corridor, turn to the left, that's what Hannah had said. I've been running around in circles, lost amongst the cream walls and chandeliers of Mercer Manor looking for Elle's old room.

Alice hadn't thought to bring heels to the fitting so I'd been sent to look through Elle's closet for a pair. Finally, after rounding another corner, I spotted a maid. She showed me the way to Elle's childhood bedroom.

It was simple, elegant, tasteful. But it looked cold and abandoned, like stepping into the room of the deceased. I froze on the door jam, eying the spacious--much too spacious--room. The only personal touch in the room was an easel in the corner and a few books scattered on a desk.

I went to one of the doors, and after discovering it was the en suite I moved on to the other door. It was a walk in closet, with rows of clothes and shoes.

Squatting, I pursed my lips as I looked at my options. It was then that I saw the corner of a canvas hidden behind a row of gowns. Curiosity beckoned and I swept the dresses away.

There lay a half finished painting.

It was haunting, the painting. It was of a woman, her face blank with no eyes or mouth. She wore a long dress, a stark white gown with a bouquet of Cala Lilies hanging limp in her hand. The most paralyzing part was the blood. It stained the dress, making her a red bride.

It was marvelous, so loaded with emotion and meaning. I leaned forward and took the canvas so I could examine it better. This was most likely some of Elle's earliest work, something rare. There's a novelty in admiring an artist's firsts because so early on they paint their feelings. They are their own muse, their experiences and raw emotions dictate what their brushes paint.

I could see it in the red paint, the indentations of her angry brush strokes. They softened on the hem of the skirt but they looked tired, defeated.

Just as I was putting the canvas back where I found it, my eyes spotted the outline of a small door behind the dresses. Standing, I pushed the dresses aside so I could see what was there.

The little door looked like the one from Alice in Wonderland. There was a lock on the knob. There were spots where the paint looked brighter, and with a start I realized there had been a deadbolt there before.

The doorknob turned with a squeak, the noise deafening in the silent room. The inside was dark, just a naked bulb was in the middle of the low ceiling. The room was too little for me to fit, it was maybe three feet in height but I reached in and turned the light on anyway, ignoring the cobwebs on the bulb.

The inside was bare and eerie, but perhaps even more frightening were the scratch marks on the door.

Quickly scooting out of the little room, I shut the door and sat staring at it in shock.

"Oh, there you are." I turned and watched Elle freeze in the door jam. Her eyes were somber, staring at the door expressionless.

"Elle," I said softly. Her eyes seemed to come into focus and a sad smile formed on her lips.

"Haven't thought about that room in a long time," she finally said. Then she turned to the rows of shoes and picked out a random pair of heels.

I scrambled to my feet and followed her out of the closet. "Elle, wait. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snoop."

She stopped and sat on the foot of her bed. Elle watched straight ahead at the now closed closet doors, a far away look in her eyes.

"She used to put me there as a kid. When I was bad."