Reverie

-REVERIE-

         

 -1926-

Driving down the desolate road called Emerson Street, our automobile was surrounded by willow trees, which created a feeling of uniqueness. This house… I have a feeling about it that doesn’t exactly make for a picturesque homecoming.

I found as though we were hoping for a change for the better, but granted an omen. An omen of bad happenings that should be headed. The wind in the willows was weaving tales of remorse & sorrow through & through their history.

When Randy spoke, I almost jumped from surprise. I tend to consistently be distracted from my surroundings while in a state of concentration. He dully stated that by half past the hour, we should be pulling into the driveway of what used to be the Johnson Plantation, otherwise known as our soon to be (or not to be) home.

 -*-*-*-

The half an hour came & went, & before we all knew it, we were in the midst of a tall, foreboding, pitch black gate. It was open, & our automobile steadily drove down the seemingly sempiternal driveway.

The driveway was lined with long dead trees which seemed to curve over the path in such a way as to give the allusion of being inside of an eroded, claw bearing tunnel. The rest of the family seemed to be awe stricken, but I… I felt that feeling once more of being escorted to my demise. Those are not vernacular conceptions for any teen-age girl to have while anticipating a new home.

When we finally reached the manor house, even I found myself to be in a cognitive state of mind. There were four looming, regal, elegant, & somehow intimidating columns that guarded a porch that went around the perimeter of the house. The house was white & graceful, I must admit, but just as every beautiful woman has her secrets, so does this one. 

Ravens. There were ravens everywhere. Since ravens are black, & the house was white, the contrast of colors gave the allusion of there being far more birds then there actually were, but nonetheless, they were everywhere.

When I pivoted on my heels as to get a good look around the front lawn, I noticed a lone willow tree. As I looked closer, I noticed something. This “something” will haunt me for the rest of my days. As I looked closer, I saw a noose, hanging on a branch just high enough off of the ground to hang someone themselves. Just hanging there lazily, swaying in the gentle summer breeze. And then, I saw him. 

Terror thrust itself upon my paralyzed body. We made direct eye contact, even though we were at least 100 feet apart. It was my father. My crazed, deranged father, enrolled in a mental institution almost ten long years ago. My mother remarried Randy, & that’s that.

As we stared at each other for what seemed like forever, he finally gave me a bone chilling, blood curdling look, & ran off into the cotton fields, disappearing past the horizon. My thoughts have been realized, & mere vigilance cannot save my soul now. 

 -*-*-*-

Halloween came & went, taking my paranoia with it, & before I knew it, November rolled around. My mother frets that if I don’t cease this behavior, I’ll soon end up like my father. That snapped me out of it.

But soon afterwards, I began…experiencing things. I was always incessantly ill, ceaselessly vomiting anything I dared to swallow. And if there was nothing to vomit, blood replaced it.

I know that my father is out to get me, & I believe my family is as well… I can’t trust anyone I have already before, or entrust any other individual. I am trapped.