Shattered Horizon

14 Liam

I let Joanna and Iris take Annalina to Bo. My throat tightened as I watched them disappear down the street. Alone time. Joanna's words echoed, but a hollow emptiness filled the space they were supposed to occupy. No grand epiphanies bloomed in the silence. Just a crushing realization â€" I had no one left but Iris. And even that fragile thread, I knew, would fray with time.
A surge of rebellion flared. I snatched my backpack, a desperate attempt to outrun the inevitable. Stuff it, I thought. I'll leave before they get back. But the defiance fizzled as quickly as it ignited. Abandoning them? The guilt was a lead weight in my gut, a sickening echo of his betrayal. I couldn't sink that low.
My head throbbed, a tangled mess of anxieties. Pacing offered no solace, just a frantic waltz around the living room. Finally, I reached for my sketchbook, a lifeline in the storm. Descending the stairs, I moved on autopilot, drawn to the cool evening air of the back patio. The privacy fence loomed, a stark barrier to the outside world, mirroring the one closing in around me.
With a sigh, I settled down, flipping open the sketchbook. My gaze fell on Joanna's vibrant flowerbeds, bursting with color even in the fading light. An idea sparked, a flicker of defiance against the encroaching despair. I began to sketch, the scratch of pencil a grounding rhythm against the chaos within. Each stroke captured not just the flowers' details, but a sliver of hope, a testament to life's enduring beauty.
A couple of months back, Bo and I had planted these sunflowers for Joanna. We'd cleared a patch of earth by the fence, our laughter echoing as we recalled how her face always brightened at the sight of a sunflower. "Big, bright, and beautiful, just like the sun," she'd say. These sunflowers soared towards the sky, their golden faces radiating warmth even in the crisp morning air. The tangled red and white roses climbing the fence had filled the garden with their sweet perfume, but now that fragrance seemed a touch fainter, like a fading memory. It resonated with a hollow ache inside me â€" faded, a little lost. But then, a single, perfect sunflower caught my eye. Its yellow petals reached for the heavens, a tenacious spark of life amidst the uncertainty. A tiny flicker of hope ignited within me, stubbornly refusing to die.
I flipped the page in my sketchbook and began to capture their vibrant spirit. The sun was painting the sky in fiery hues by the time I finished my sketch. Time always slipped away when I was drawing. Joanna and Iris should be back any moment. I traced the smooth surface of the locket my sister gave me, opening it to gaze at the photos inside. A pang of longing washed over me as I remembered her face. How easily she could have soothed the tangle of emotions inside me.
I went inside, slumping into a chair and placing my sketchbook on the table. I waited for Joanna and Iris, closing my eyes and listening to the birdsong. It was a peaceful illusion, a brief respite in a world turned harsh. For a few precious hours, I heard the familiar chirp of birds, but the Vry were silent.
Time stretched as I waited. Finally, I heard the familiar rasp of Joanna's voice, then Iris's, and the creak of the gate. My eyes flew open, and I rushed to unlock the front door.
"Hey there Liam," Iris greeted me, a kiss on my cheek. Her eyes lingered for a moment before she stepped inside. I helped Joanna up the steps. "I'm getting too old for this," she said with a wry chuckle. "How are you holding up?"
I shrugged, unable to meet her gaze. She patted my arm, reached for a cigarette, and lit it. "Winter is coming. And it's coming fast, Liam. You and Iris are welcome to stay here as long as you need. You know we love you."
"Thanks, Joanna." I hugged her, and then headed inside. The house felt empty, a hollow shell without Annalina's laughter.
Iris joined me in the living room. "Did he say anything to you?" She nodded. "He apologized for leaving like that." My heart felt cold. "I hope he made the right choice," I said. "Was his brother with him?"
"No, just that Max kid," she replied. "I don't know what he sees in him."
A thud echoed from the porch. Iris and I shared a panicked look, rushing outside. "Joanna!" Iris cried, helping her to her feet.
"I'm okay. I'm okay," Joanna's voice was weak. "Just a stumble." Her words were a fragile reassurance.
Inside, I fetched her water. As she drank, crimson stained the glass. Iris gasped, but Joanna smiled, patting our hands. "It's okay," she said, voice gentle. We guided her to bed, Iris curling up beside her. "We'll check on you," Iris said, tears choking her voice.
Joanna's weathered face softened. "Honey, no need for tears. You knew."
"I thought we had more time," Iris whispered.
My own throat tightened. Joanna had been a beacon in these dark months, a figure of support when we felt lost. Now, we were losing her, and the pain cut deep because it was beyond our control.
Night had fallen, a heavy blanket of darkness settling over the house. Joanna remained in her room, her frail form a shadowy silhouette against the dim light. Iris, however, was determined to break through the somber mood. Soft music filled the room as she pushed the coffee table aside, creating a makeshift dance floor. Her movements were hesitant at first, more playful than practiced, but a genuine smile transformed her face.
Joanna emerged, drawn by the sound and the unexpected sight. She lowered herself into the armchair, watching Iris with a mixture of amusement and longing. The years were etched in the lines on her face, but her eyes sparkled with the warmth of the moment.
The music shifted, a slow, soulful melody replacing the upbeat rhythm. Iris turned to me, her gaze softening. "I've never done this before," I confessed, a nervous flutter in my chest.
"It's okay," she replied, her voice a gentle whisper. "Just put your hands on my back, I'll place mine on your shoulders, and we'll sway with the music."
Hesitantly, I did as she instructed. Her touch was light, her hands warm on my shoulders. As we swayed, an awkwardness gave way to a strange sense of peace. In this small, quiet space, with Joanna watching and the music weaving its spell, fear and uncertainty faded, replaced by the simple comfort of the moment.
The music faded mid-note, the sway of our bodies coming to an abrupt halt. A harsh, rasping sound pierced the silence â€" Vrys, clawing at the metal fence. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt Iris stiffen beside me.
Joanna's voice echoed, sharp with worry. "Turn off the lights! Now!"
We plunged the room into darkness, the silence thick and heavy. We sat frozen, barely daring to breathe. The scratching continued, a relentless, grating rhythm against the silence. Time stretched on an agonizing crawl â€" minutes? hours? Each scrape seemed to echo inside my skull, a relentless countdown to a threat we couldn't see.
Finally, the scratching ceased. The silence that followed was just as unsettling, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air: Was it gone? Or simply waiting?
The scratching stopped abruptly, leaving behind a ringing silence more unnerving than the sound itself. Iris slumped against me, her gentle breaths tickling my ear. Exhaustion finally claimed her, and she drifted off to sleep. I glanced at Joanna, who met my gaze with a weary nod. "Let her sleep," she mouthed silently before disappearing back into her room.
Left alone with Iris nestled against me, the warmth of her body offered a fleeting comfort. But within me, a storm raged. Bo's betrayal echoed in my mind, replaying every hurt word and stolen glance. How could he have chosen them over us? A bitter pang of jealousy twisted in my gut.
His hazel eyes, the way his smile could light up a room… the memories were both a comfort and a torment. Iris was a sister, a confidante â€" a safe haven in this world gone mad. But Bo… with him, there was a spark, an unspoken something that ignited a different kind of longing within me.
Hours ticked by, measured by the soft tick of the grandfather clock downstairs. Finally, I stirred, the ache in my neck a harsh reminder of the makeshift bed. Iris stirred slightly, mumbling incoherently before settling back down.
A new light peeked through the curtains, painting the room with a pale blue glow. The harsh reality of their situation came flooding back â€" Bo's absence, Joanna's deteriorating health, the constant threat lurking beyond the walls. The weight of responsibility settled heavily on my shoulders.
Iris shifted, stretching languidly before moving to the other side of the couch. Sleep-heavy and stiff, I rose and slipped outside. The crisp night air was a shock to my lungs, but the darkness was oppressive, broken only by the cold light of the moon and stars. It was enough to make out the path, but everything else was shrouded in shadows.
A rustling at the gate sent a jolt of fear through me. Vrys couldn't work the latch, so it had to be something else brushing against the metal. An animal, most likely. But with everything that had happened, my nerves were on edge. I stood frozen, listening intently, every creak and rustle amplified in the stillness.
I take a shaky seat on the porch, hyper-aware of every whisper of wind, every creak of wood. The gate rattles again, then swings open with a groan. My heart hammers in my chest. I lunge forward, hand automatically reaching for a knife… only to find empty air.
"Shit!" I curse, grabbing Joanna's old wooden walking stick for some pathetic measure of protection. I squint into the darkness, but there's nothing â€" just the sway of shadows and the echo of the open gate.
"Liam."