(Eng) Broken - Riverdale FF

22

The way to Thornhill Manor was bothersome because it was right on the other end of Norhtside. Even if the nights were still mild, it was no longer summer. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and buried my hands as far as possible in the sleeves of my jacket.

Only when lighting a cigarette did I stop. I would never be able to walk and use lighters at the same time.
I still wondered if I was making a mistake.

Again and again I took out my cell phone, wanting to write to Joe. He was already part of the ghoulies when Jason was murdered.

Would he know more? Would I put him in danger if I asked him about it? And even if I found something, what would I do with that information?
Question after question raced through my head.
Cigarette after cigarette filled my lungs.
But I couldn't find an answer or calm.

You just don't want to admit that the world isn't black and white, I admonished myself. Get your shit together!

I stopped at the long drive to Thornhill.

If Kurtz was the killer, I'd have to report it to the police.
Cheryl didn't deserve to be left in ignorance just because I was naive.

Only when I realized the gate was open did I pause.
I had thought of dozens of ways to sneak in unnoticed. Even climbing over the fence would have been an option. That I could just go inside I hadn't seen coming.

Unsure, I stayed a little off the path by the tall, well-cut trees.
Who else was visiting at this time? Or were the Blossoms gone?

I crept to the back of the house and stayed away from any source of light.
There was only one light left on in one window.

Parents bedroom, if I remembered correctly. Cheryl had explained to me which room was where, so that in case of doubt I would notice suspicious behavior on the upper floor as well.

She couldn't have known that Jughead and Betty were in cahoots with me.
But Cheryl's explanation of the house had shown me more than she could realize. There was an annex that could be climbed over a strange stature.

The ivy was so firm that you could hold onto the thick tendrils.
My days as a wild adventurer were long over, so the climbing was harder than expected - maybe also because I had smoked half a pack of cigarettes on the way here.

With a little courage you could reach the ledge that stretched around the house over the roof of the extension.
It was barely wide enough for my feet, but it would be fine.

The first window was made of frosted glass.
This had to be Cheryl's bathroom, but the next one would lead me to her walk-in closet. Even though Cheryl had called it a dressing room.

As expected, the window was as old as the rest of the house.

I pulled myself silently on the window ledge and wedged the letter in the upper corner.

When Cheryl opened the window, the letter would come straight to her.

Was it creepy that I crawled around the facade of the house at night? Absolutely. But I had mentioned to Cheryl that I had unconventional ways of doing my job.

And I was pretty sure that if she got her hands on them, her mother would take the photos away.

With my face against the wall, I crawled back to the annex.
I sent Cheryl a message with instructions on the envelope, then crept back to the stature.

Before I could make my way down, I spotted something in the corner of my eye.

There was someone.
On the other side of Thornhill's ground.
Two people slipped into the large warehouse.
I sat frozen on the edge of the roof.
It was definitely not the time for a syrup tasting.

I was considering whether I was curious enough to follow the two people when the light switched on in the house behind me.

Startled, I jumped towards the stature, but could not get hold of it safely and slid down on it.

I landed on my foot and a bang broke the silence. Followed by a sharp scream that I couldn't suppress.
The pain that shot through me brought tears to my eyes and made everything go black for a second.

Damn it! Panicking, I wiped my tears away to better assess my situation. Another light came on in the house. Someone was coming back from the warehouse. Panicking even more, I crawled on all fours into the hedge directly behind the stature. Squeezed between the stone of the pedestal and the wall, I froze.

Someone ran past me, but my hiding place was in total darkness. All I could do was breathe.
I had to breathe away the pain. Quite simple.

I almost laughed at my own stupid thoughts. It sounded ridiculous to put into words, but it was a tactic my grandma taught me for panic attacks.
Keep breathing. You allow the pain, the fear, the panic. Fighting it usually only made it worse. Instead you focus fully on breathing evenly until you're ready again to do the things that needed to be done.

Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't.
This time it worked.

It must have been fifteen, maybe twenty minutes before I dared to leave my hiding place.

The pain in my foot made me gasp for air.

I was sure nothing was broken, but sprained for sure. I ignored the tears that came back to my eyes all by themselves. The walk down from the Blossoms' grounds was hell. It was ever-so-slightly downhill and the tiny incline forced my foot into every position it didn't want to be in.

I would have loved to just fall into the grass, face first, and cry out loud about my own stupidity.
But crying wouldn't help me either, so I left it.
That was my grandmother's real legacy.
Not (only) her love and warmth.
It was the ability to do exactly what needed to be done.

And I had to go home.