Decorum | ONC 2023 Shortlister

Chapter Two

Abigail awoke to the sound of bird song.

Somewhat dazed, she twisted underneath her sheets and peered about the room. A hazy swath of sunlight had found its way through the window, and apart from the bustling chirps outside, the rest of the room laid still, sleeping. Frowning, Abigail shuffled herself over to the nightstand, but upon grabbing her phone from where it'd been charging, she found that it hadn't in fact charged at all. A solitary clock hung on one of the walls, but none of the hands moved. It seemed as though everything in this room, save the echo of bird song, had frozen in Abigail's sleep.

Upon stretching and wrapping herself in the knitted maroon blanket she'd brought, Abigail stood and once again wandered about the viridian room. She looked thoughtfully into all the drawers and doors she'd never closed before turning to the window. An overgrown garden stretched briefly before her, but it quickly melted into the brooding line of trees that hugged the edge of Blackwell Manor. A few pale statues dotted the garden, but even they had been overtaken by the earth. On the arms and backs of the white skinned figures there grew fine and slippery films of moss and mildew. The vining tendril of a flower that Abigail could't name reached away from its suffocating pot and curled around the ankle of a pensive, naked woman.

But the trees and the garden held no interest for Abigail, and she found herself growing restless. Turning from the window, she hung her blanket on the back of the desk chair and began about her day. She brushed her hair in the small bathroom that was connected to her bedroom, but she changed her clothes outside of it. For a moment, she stood in the middle of the room wondering if she had to pee or if she just thought that she should. In the end, she concluded that she'd peed late last night and so there was no need to go again. This decision reached, Abigail secured her hair in a firm bun at the nape of her neck and retreated briskly from her room.

It took Abigail several tries to find the kitchen downstairs, and she wandered through a dining room, a library, a large empty room with a piano, and another room with seemingly little purpose until she found it. The kitchen was relatively large and sitting on a stool near one of the counters was Hannah. She was leaned over a yellowing book of crosswords, and a cup of tea steamed beside her.

"Good morning." Abigail said.

Hannah jumped at the sound of Abigail's voice, but then she smiled brightly.

"Good morning. I was going to come up and wake you, but I wasn't sure what time you normally sleep in until."

"Is it that late?" Abigail asked.

"Nearly 7:30." Hannah said. "Most people around here set their alarms for 6 am."

"Well I'm afraid my phone didn't charge." Abigail said.

Hannah nodded knowingly, "Oh, well that'll do it. These outlets can be nasty to get working. I'll grab one of the wind up clocks from the other rooms and give it to you. That should fix the problem."

"Is there any room where my phone would be sure to charge?" Abigail asked.

"Well these kitchen outlets are probably the best. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to cook half the things I do. Imagine not being able to have toast! But yeah, these are probably the best. You're free to leave it down here at night. I normally just charge mine during the day while I work."

Abigail glanced around the counters and at the few outlets that sat above them. Although she didn't use her phone for much, it seemed odd to keep it so far away from her person. The cold counters stared back at her, apathetic to her discomfort.

"I may do that then." Abigail said.

"Splendid. What can I get you for breakfast?"

"Tea sounds perfect for now, thank you." Abigail said, and then, "What do you normally bring Victor?"