Haunted Escape | ONC 2022

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Chapter 1

Matthew Harrington died peacefully in his sleep at five o'clock in the morning seven days ago.

We all knew it was coming. He was ill for a long time, and he even joked about the fact with his twisted sense of humour. It wasn't a shock. It wasn't dramatic. He was getting old, he got sick, and then he died. It happens to the best of us.

However, a wave of sadness settled in the pit of my stomach as soon as the call with his daughter ended. I've taken care of him for the last two years. He told me stories of war, of marriage, of... life. Half the time I wasn't sure if he was telling the whole truth or not, but the stories were entertaining. Distracting. I'll miss them.

I'll miss him. He wasn't the sort of old asshole that ordered me around and grunted at me if I did the slightest thing wrong. He seemed to genuinely enjoy my company. I wasn't a burden. Not to him. We took care of each other, in a sense, as I fed and washed and cleaned for him and he made sure there would always be a roof over my head.

I went into this job for the money. I didn't realise I'd make a friend out of it, but I did. Now he's gone.

I've been invited to the funeral. I barely know the first thing about his family, except that they're all rich and living it up in whatever exotic country suits them best, so I feel strange about it. I fear I'll feel out of place, especially when I realise that the only black dress I own is a cheap one from a charity shop, even when Matthew told me that I was the only family he ever cared about.

I always told him not to say that, considering I'm in no way related to him, but I can't lie and say it didn't fill me with a sense of pride. I haven't heard that kind of thing in a long time.

Suppressing a sigh, I stroll over to my wardrobe, hoping that the dress in question will fit me now. I haven't worn it since I was sixteen, but my body hasn't exactly changed since then. I'll always be the flat, skinny girl that people will forever nag me about. Matthew didn't. He didn't comment on how pale I am, either. He was nice like that.

The dress is a little tight but I decide that it'll do. I have no idea what to do with my hair, though. I dyed it white a year ago, hoping I'd look like some ethereal ice princess, but instead sometimes I remind myself of a corpse. A lot of makeup is needed on a daily basis to hide the hollow eyes and sharp cheekbones, but I don't think I'll ever be able to rid the haunted look that encompasses my face. That'll stick with me for a long time.

I decide to put my hair up in a ponytail, finding a random black ribbon to tie in it. The shoes are simple, black heels I must have bought when I was thirteen. The cardigan is a little scruffy with frayed edges. The bag is my mother's. Well, used to be.

I don't bother looking at myself in the mirror. I don't need to see the evidence that I look like a mess. I feel like one and that's enough. Because... I have no idea where to go now. I'm struggling to find work and Matthew and his family took care of me financially as soon as I had to leave my last home. I never had to worry about rent because they paid it. I never had to worry about starving because they fed me. But now, as I get into my car and begin the drive over to the cemetery, I'm worrying about every little thing until I've gnawed at my bottom lip so hard that it bleeds.

It's only when I reach the church that my brain stops whirring for one, blissful minute. I'm too caught up on everyone who has come to attend the funeral. Expensive black suits and dresses with diamonds clasped around their dainty wrists is all I can see. Fancy cars I've only ever seen in magazines sitting in the car park. People with smiles that are too wide, expressions that are too frozen.

I don't belong here.

But the thought of Matthew is what drags me out of my car. I've come here for him and him only, to say a final goodbye before he's lowered into the ground and covered in dirt and flowers. I've come here to remember him, to find closure, before I need to pick myself from the dirty floor once again and work out what I do next.