The House that Burned

Predictions

I woke up to darkness and the feeling of rope digging into my hands. I squirmed and writhed, but no matter how hard I tried, my constraints wouldn't budge.

"Ah, you're awake," a voice drawled, making me jump.

The woman came out of the shadows to show her face. It was the woman from the bookshop. But something wasn't straight and made me slightly unsettled. The more I thought about it, the more I was certain, until it clicked. This was not the woman I had been expecting. I thought it would be Freida out for vengeance. However, when I focussed hard, it dawned on me that the bookshop owner and Freida were not so different. In fact, they were the same person. I hadn't seen Freida in so long, I had failed to recognise her in broad daylight. For a moment, I was frustrated for being so clueless, before Freida spoke again to remind me that was the least of my worries.

"I'm assuming you've connected the dots now," she said in a malicious voice.

I had never heard her talk like that. It was like her whole being was made of pure evil that had never been there before. I must have looked confused, for she continued.

"Hm. Clearly not. You must think this is some kind of magical witch's curse. You found a book describing your life and what would happen in the future. It correctly predicted your death. I see why you're so spooked. The book was a huge coincidence. I wasn't intending any of this to happen if I'm honest. I didn't even think I would ever see you again."

"What do you mean, a coincidence? Did you know about the book?" I demand.

To me, the book and Freida were two separate things that never crossed paths. If Freida knew about the book, that would open up a whole new world of possibilities and confusions. Just when I thought I was beginning to understand what was going on, I was back to square one.

"Of course I did! I wrote it. It was just meant to be a bit of a release from all my anger. I wasn't expecting anyone, let alone you, to read it."

"But some of the things in there, I haven't told anyone. And what about the whole future telling thing?"

"Great, now you can't even remember the things you talked about with me. All the more reason to do this," Freida continued, motioning to the matchbox in her hand. "Did you even read the whole book?"

"I skipped to the end before the bit where I got arrested," I explain.

"Urgh. That was the best bit. You obviously didn't realise that the rest of the book describes what I think was happening to you in prison. It's only the last page that talks about any kind of future," she said.

My eyes widened. All this time I had been thinking the novel was some sort of portal to see into the future, when really it had been my ex-girlfriend's crazed predictions.

"Does this mean you also didn't read about how I never burnt down the gallery? How the police found evidence long after you went to prison that the garage burnt because you left the tumble dryer on overnight. All of this started because of a tumble dryer!" she yelled with tears in her eyes.

I was too shocked to speak. She hadn't burnt down the garage after all. In fact, nobody had. It was my fault, not just for the gallery but for all the events that came to follow. It was a horrifying thought.