The Strange Case of the Jackson Building

Chapter 20 - Terror

Chapter Twenty

Terror

Very much against her will, Petra had no choice but return to her apartment that night. She was in dire need of a bath, a decent meal and a comfy bed and, frankly, had nowhere else to get them.

For a change, the old lady wasn't patrolling the entrance door. On one hand, it was a relief, but on the other, Petra wanted to look her in the eyes again, to make sure she wasn't looking at the same pair of daunting eyes she'd seen in the old photograph.

Did the old lady know what Kwame Jackson had seemed to know? Was she actually trying to keep something from getting inside the building? Was she actually trying to help? Trying to keep people, or perhaps something more sinister, from getting in, the same way Kwame had? Had the old lady been trying to protect her, rather than scare her, all this time? Was the resemblance to the Jacksons only a coincidence or her imagination? But then, if she really was trying to help, why did she feel so evil? These were the thoughts that consumed her tired mind as she made her way home.

Once again, she was met by darkness and silence when she opened the door. Natasha still seemed intent on keeping up with her "retreat". Petra found herself missing her more than she ever thought she would. It served her right, she figured. She could've been kinder to her friendly flat-mate.

Inside the bathroom, she took off her dirty clothes and threw them into an already generous pile. Cringing, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Petra had always hated mirrors, but if there was ever a time she had good reason to, it was definitely now. She hated her reflection. Olivia was right, she did look sick. More than that, the difference between her reflection now and what she used to be was appalling and depressing. She had become way too skinny, her skin was even paler than ever before, her eyes lacked any kind of light in them and featured heavy, dark bags under them, her hair was badly cut and carelessly put together and she looked starved and exhausted to the point of illness.

It was actually amazing how she didn't feel worse, considering how she looked.

Petra took a deep breath and had to make a conscious effort not to cry. She hated herself and what she had turned into. She hated that she had allowed herself to become the perfect image of mental and physical instability and hated that she had no idea how to stop it or make it better. She hated that her body and mind were quickly entering a state of shameful decadence.

If her mother saw her in that condition, she'd definitely cry. There was no way she could ever allow her to see her like this, it would surely break her mother's heart.

In fact, she didn't feel like letting anyone see her in that state, she felt so disgusting and repulsive.

Petra couldn't take the sight of her broken self any longer. She decided she wouldn't look at herself anymore, for her reflection made her sick and hateful and feeling a weird mixture of anger and deep sadness.

Worst of all was being aware that she was doing this to herself even though, at the same time, she couldn't help but feel like she deserved it.

Her bath lasted at least an hour. Her stomach begged for food and her body for energy, but she ignored them for the sake of healing her mind first. The hot water was a blessing against her sore muscles and she enjoyed its much needed comfort. She took the time to take care of her tired body and relax her mind, trying to meditate and think of nothing.

When she finally got out of the tub, she felt revitalized to an extent, although not completely healed. She was still feeling too weak and, as soon as the warmth left and turned into chills, her mind went back into overdrive, chaotic thoughts and images racing through in a frantic hurricane, taking hold of her like she was a hostage of her own brain. She tried to fight it by focusing on small, routine tasks like dressing her old t-shirt and comfy pants and combing her hair. although she hadn't quite figured out how she wanted to style it yet. Throughout all of this, Petra had avoided the mirror, but now concluded she would need it, if she was ever going to try and do something decent out of her new, improvised haircut.