Saint

Two

Quietly and slowly, I slide the lock on my door to the left, and a light clicking sound echoes across the room as I let go of the room door. I wait patiently for a couple minutes, listening for anyone passing by the door. My room sat on the top floor of the coven house, away from the others. That's the way my father wanted it and the only thing that we could agree on. The only problem was, is that our coven house is old. The slightest movement or drop could be heard throughout the house, it didn't make it any better that we had super hearing and picked up on sounds a lot louder.

I back away from the door, and wait. If someone comes it's either because my father sent them or if no one comes that means something else more valuable captured his attention and me skipping would warrant no consequence.

'But this is all going off an, If'

Exhaling a breath, I relax into the darkness of the room. The soft creak of the wooden floorboards beneath me echo in the quiet room, a gentle reminder that I needed to be careful with where I stepped. The light flickers from the candle, casting warm shadows across the space and the cinnamon scent wraps around me like a soft, comforting blanket.

Inhaling deeply, the scent drifts down my lungs, calming the chaos in my mind. The quiet hum of the house surrounds me as I twist the knob of the bathtub, the rush of the water filling the space with a soothing sound. Steam begins to rise, fogging the mirror as I reach for the lavender soap. The faint floral scent unfurls, delicate and calming, as I pour it into the steam of hot water. Bubbles begin to form, a soft layer growing across the surface, inviting and warm.

Slowly, I pull my shirt over my head, letting it drop to the floor before slipping off the rest of my clothes. Carefully, I step into the bath tub, the hot water lapping at my ankles, sending a wave of heat through me. I lower myself, letting the warmth cover me inch by inch. The lavender- scented bubbles glide against my skin as I sink further, my body relaxing as the water cradles me.

I lean my head back against the smooth edge of the tub, letting the water lap at me gently as I settle into the warmth. My eyes drift upward, tracing the colors of the painted mural on the window. The swirling, curling design seem to dance above me, soft shades of blue and gold blending together in an endless flow.

I let my gaze follow the intricate lines, losing myself in the delicate patterns, the way they seem to dance, to twist and turn like a dream. As I stare into the mural, the colors begin to shift, almost imperceptibly at first—soft lines smudging, vibrant hues fading into muted tones. My chest tightens as the once-beautiful patterns turn into something unrecognizable. A sudden chill brushed the back of my neck, stark and jarring against the warmth of the bath.

I sit up slightly, my breath catching in my throat, the comforting lavender scent now mingled with something colder, sharper. Before I can fully process the unease creeping over me, a soft voice, barley more than a whisper curls around me.

"Saint."

The single word feels impossibly close as if spoken right into my ear. I whip my head around, searching the shadows, but find nothing—only the stillness of the water and the faint echo of that haunting whisper lingering in the air.

The bathroom door suddenly slams open with a force that makes me flinch, water sloshing over the edge of the tub as I sit upright. My heart leaps into my throat as my dad storms in, his face tightens with urgency, followed closely behind Jake. Behind them, two figures linger in the doorway, their silhouettes blocking the light from the room.

"Dad?" I stammer, my voice shaky and small, the vulnerability of my position amplifying the chaos of the moment.  I pull my knees to my chest beneath the water, trying to shield myself. "What's going on?"