Ivory Manor

2

"Just one more dance!" Maya shouts in my ear over the base of the music that is vibrating the floor beneath my six inch black heels.
I slur my protest, I have to be up at four in the morning to travel to the manor. The old women passed away and left the decrepit structure in my name.

It is already half past eleven, but the club is still full of life. We've both had far too much to drink and my muddled brain seems to be linked to the music. Even sitting down on the red leather couches along the outside of the dance floor has me moving my hips in my seat along with the rhythm.

I want nothing more than to keep partying, drinking and ignoring the fact that the place I am going back to is my own personal hell.

Nope. I won't go there. If there is one thing that I am good at, it is blocking out the past that I left behind a long time ago, along with my former life.

Has it really been eight years already? It seems forever ago since I came to this town, yet it feels like yesterday at the same time.

How is that possible? I feel as if I am in a false sense of security, like limbo. Waiting for something bad to happen again.

The old biddy dying should cause me some stem of happiness, I know that. Heck I have imagined her death hundreds of times over the years. But, I feel nothing. Apart from more hatred that is. Mainly caused by having to go back there and needing to face my own personal hell. The very place that had almost destroyed me time and time again. That had left me in a crippled, bloody mess by the end of it that I was so sure I would never survive.

Why would she even leave the rotting place to me? Probably for a final jab at my sanity, I bet. Fucking bitch.

Even with a new identity and life, she still managed to get a final reminder in. I don't even want the house or any part of the sale, but cash is more than tight. I share a two bed flat with Maya, and we are more often than not skimping to get by. My parents have already made the long drive and checked the Manor out. They said that it looked as if nobody has used the home in years. Makes sense really. That is how long it took the lawyers to find me under my new alias.

Mum had phoned me while they were out there. Telling me that they needed to take a look at the house before they let me get anywhere near the place again. I understood, and on some level I was even grateful for them doing that for me. If I do have to go back there, I don't want any hidden surprises that were left behind. I doubt that they will be able to find the secret rooms, the police didn't even uncover them all. I know because I described a few of them that I had a clear look at to the officers, but, they couldn't locate over half of the spaces. So maybe I don't go poking around too much... or should I? God knows what I could potentially find in that place.

Mum gave a few of the rooms at the house a quick clean to get rid of the spider webs and the dust. She said that there are far too many rooms for her to get done on her own. She had managed to get the kitchen usable for me at least, plus the small sitting room and one of the smaller bedrooms that her and dad shared after spending three days down there.

Her sciatica had started playing up, so she couldn't do much more especially anything that resulted in her getting up and down the winding staircase.

I shiver at the reminder of those steps the feeling of desperation and despair washing over me like a dreadful ghost that haunts me. I shake it off.

While mum was doing that, my dad had new locks installed on to every entrance, exit and window that is on the massive property. I promised that I would pay him back when the place is sold. I know that money is okay for them, but they don't earn much anymore as they both decided to work part-time. They chose to give up their long hours and move in to a smaller home on the outskirts of town so that they could spend more time together. And of course stay close to me, they have contacted me nearly every day since I moved out. Even though I was only with them for a year before I legally didn't need a care provider anymore. They still showed up at every opportunity to my house when I moved in to the two bed flat. They still kept in contact, baking cupcakes and bringing them over, fixing anything that broke on me, etc. So after year four of being in this town, I grew comfortable with their presence, then I began to crave it. And I now consider them my parents, it took a while, but I wouldn't change anything about them. I barely remember my own family, but I know they were hooked on hard drugs and neglecting me. That's why I ended up where I did in the first place.