Such a Beautiful Massacre ✔

Chapter 3

“I’m glad we painted your wall,” my sister said. “The Kermit color was such an eyesore.”
She’d come into my room thirty minutes ago and sprawled herself across my bed, idly plucking the G string on my acoustic guitar. Fliss had already finished decorating her bedroom this morning. I assumed she grew bored since she had nothing else to organize. I, on the other hand, still had oodles of boxes to go through. So far, I was down to box number five. I unpacked most of my clothes and put them away in the closet.
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said. “It won’t feel like I’m sleeping in the Amazon anymore. We still have the carpet to remove, though.”
The moving company had arrived yesterday mid-morning. They’d been scheduled to arrive the day before, but the traffic in London slowed them down. Everyone got to work by unloading the truck and taking boxes where they needed to be. Our parents handled the boxes for downstairs while Fliss and I took the boxes for the upstairs, mainly our belongings for the bedrooms and bathroom. Six hours had passed before the truck was emptied.
After the movers left, we traveled to Downtown Stoneley to buy paint for our bedrooms before unpacking anything. Everyone agreed my room should be painted first. I’d chosen baby blue because it reminded me of my old bedroom. Fliss chose fuchsia for hers. When we returned to the house, we both disappeared upstairs to tackle the green monstrosity.
As for my carpet, it would have to be stripped and taken off another date.
“I can’t believe school starts next week,” Fliss remarked, switching to the E string.
“I know,” I responded as I pulled out more clothes from the box. “We’ll be dressed in uniforms like we’re in Hogwarts. It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah. So much fun,” she said flatly.
“You don't sound as crazy with the idea as I am.”
“Well, everything is going to be so different. I mean, we never wore uniforms to school before. And the new school doesn’t offer volleyball, so I’m stuck playing rugby.” She sighed. “I think I’m just nervous.”
I nodded, tossing the empty box by the door with the others. I picked up a smaller box and sifted through it.

Five down, four million to go! I thought.

“I’m feeling jittery too, so don’t feel bad,” I assured her. “Everything will be fine, I promise.” With a grin, I added, “Try occupying your mind with the opposite sex.”
Fliss half-smiled. She stopped plucking my guitar and shot up, sitting cross-legged. “You know that always helps.”
“We have been sisters for fourteen years, so I should know what helps you. Seeing someone of the male persuasion always relaxes me, especially British ones.”
She snorted a laugh. “What if British boys don’t like you?”
I tutted. “Of course they will. They better, I didn’t relocate four thousand miles for them not to like me.”
Checking through the items I’d packed with bubble wrap, I first grabbed ahold of Elizabeth, my ceramic doll. I held her up and examined her face, as well as her long, silky ringlets of blonde hair. She had skin white as milk and her lips and cheeks glowed a bright shade of crimson. The green Victorian dress she wore hugged her upper body then flared out from the waist, her lacy stockings peeking out from the bottom. My parents had given her to me for my twelfth birthday and I’d loved her since. I set her aside on my bed.
“What if the British don’t like us? Londoners hate Americans.”
“That was centuries ago, Fliss,” I said with a dismissive wave.
“What if things don’t work out?” she teased.
“Such a pessimist. Always the negative with you.” I chuckled. “Look, if you’re gonna be a wet blanket, you can hike on back to your room and bore yourself to death.”
“All right, whatever,” she grinned.
From the box, I pulled out five individually wrapped fairy figurines. They were made in Ireland, given to me by our grandmother. She knew I had a thing for mythical creatures. Every other summer, she traveled to Ireland and always made sure to come back with a new fairy for me. I had named each of them: Aibhilin, Cairenn, Deirdre, Meara, and Saoirse. I placed them alongside Elizabeth.
From downstairs, Mom called our names. My sister and I raced down the stairs, two at a time. Mom and Dad stood in the kitchen, their backs to us. Piles of half-unpacked boxes of pots, pans, Tupperware, and utensils surrounded them. Petunia rested on her bed, staring up at us.
“You summoned us, mother?” Fliss joked, stepping over boxes.
“I certainly did, daughter,” Mom said. “Your father and I are going to the market to pick up a drain snake. The bathtub seems to be clogged, it had some water collected in it.”
I went cold. Last night’s incident from last night hadn’t left my mind. I’d planned on telling my family, but when I woke this morning, the injury—as well as the pain—had disappeared. All day I’ve managed to convince myself that what happened the night before had all been a dream.
Sort of.
“What’s clogging it?” I asked, keeping my voice light.
“Strands of hair,” Dad answered. “But they’re black, so they must’ve come from the prior tenants. As for the water, I’m not sure how it got there. Maybe there’s a leak.”
“Anna heard dripping sounds last night,” Fliss said. “I didn’t hear anything, but it could be the case.”
“We did have the house inspected for any issues before moving here, but I’ll call a plumbing company to double-check.”
“Anyway, would you girls like to come along?” Mom inquired.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stay here,” I replied. “My room still needs to be put together. Can’t think in a cluttered space.”
“I’ll stay with her,” Fliss chimed in.
“All right,” Mom said. “We won’t be gone for long. Remember to lock the doors and don’t—”
“Talk to strangers,” Fliss and I droned simultaneously.
Dad smiled. “Glad to see neither of you needs reminding.”
Both of them kissed us goodbye and walked out the front door.
“Are you really going to finish unpacking?” Fliss asked as we climbed the stairs.
I shook my head. “Nah. I was gonna go outside and put my photography skills to use.”
“Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all! You’ll be my muse for today, anyway.”
She groaned. “Come on, Anna. There are lots of other things to capture on your camera.”
“Shh.” I pressed my finger against her lips. “No complaints. Just do as I ask.”
I strode to my bedroom and retrieved my camera from my study desk. My sister and I left through the back door in the kitchen, Petunia following us outside. Gray clouds stretched across the sky, though the sun managed to penetrate their thickness. It’d be hard to work with, but that didn’t deter me from wanting to take pictures. We walked in the garden and I kept an eye out for something to get a snapshot of. Despite it being a small yard, it was nicely kept, the grass glowing a healthy shade of green and well-trimmed. Dad did a good job.
A stepping stone path led from the back door to the end of the fence. Orange marigolds grew on the left side of the path, a Rowan tree on the right. Perfect.
“Fliss, sit beneath the tree and look straight at me,” I ordered.
She sighed, dragging her feet. She took a seat and crossed her legs, staring at the camera. I brought the camera up to my eye and aimed, adjusting the focal length so that the fence was out of focus and Fliss and the tree were sharply defined.
Click. Click.
“There. Was that so hard?” I teased. “You came out great.”
She rolled her eyes as she stood. The next picture I took she knelt beside the marigold bush, bringing a flower up to her nose. I clicked twice and we moved on to the stepping stones, where Fliss pretended to skip across them. I snapped a couple more shots of her holding Petunia, leaning against the fence.
“All right,” my sister said, setting Petunia down and walking up to me. “Your turn.” She snatched the camera from my hands.
“Fliss, really?” I protested. “You know I’m not photogenic.”
“That’s a lie. Do a pose for me.”
I did as she said and mimicked the poses she’d done earlier as she snapped some shots. She took a few more before we returned to my room.
Fliss plopped on the edge of my bed. “So, let’s see them.”
“Okay, hold your horses,” I said.
Petunia sat between us. I brought the gallery up on the screen and selected last photo of myself. A little beam of sunlight shone down on my face, casting a radiant glow to my wide smile and wavy blonde hair. My skin appeared pale as a vampire’s, as it always did, but it brought out the color of my blue-green eyes. I guess I looked good.
The next photograph with Fliss holding Petunia appeared next. It came out clear and defined, exactly what I’d wanted. Both pictures were perfect.
But when I examined the one of Fliss leaping across the stones, I blinked. A bright, white blur had overtaken the left corner of the photograph. The shot of Fliss by the marigold bush, it was there again. This time it was behind her. I scrolled through all the photos to the very first one. The photo of the house when we first moved in. The blur was inside one of the windows. My eyebrows furrowed.

That’s strange, I thought. I know I had properly set the camera before taking these.

“What are those?” Fliss asked, tilting the camera toward her.
“I dunno,” I replied.
“Maybe it’s a reflection.”
“Of what?”
She shrugged. “Of the sunlight hitting something.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that bright outside and there’s nothing in the yard the sun could have reflected on.” I clicked my tongue and stuck out my bottom lip in a pout. “Shoot, I can’t do anything with these.”
“You could retake them,” Fliss suggested.
“Yeah, I guess…”
I shivered as a sudden chill crawled down my spine.
“I guess the A/C decided to kick in,” Fliss muttered, wrapping her arms around herself.
“I don’t think it’s the air conditioner,” I said, setting my camera down.
I turned to see if my window was open, but it was sealed shut.
Tightly.
I walked over and pressed my hands against the glass. It wasn’t cold, no air seeped through. The room felt the way it had when I checked it the first time.
Another chill softly blew strands of my hair away from my face. The faint vanilla scent I’d smelled before grew stronger.
“Where do you think the breeze is coming from?” Fliss asked me.
I looked around. “It has to be coming from somewhere. What do you think, Petunia?” I put on my best cheery voice to not scare her.
The breeze came again, stronger now, lifting my hair off my shoulders.

Where is this coming from?

I searched for the air vent, strode to my bay window where it was, and hovered my hands over it.
It wasn’t on. I backed away from the unit. Suddenly, Petunia dove under my bed.
“You feel it, too, don’t you?” I said.
She whimpered in response.
I pulled my sleeves down over my wrists, covering the goosebumps traveling on my arms.
Then, a loud bang came from behind us. Fliss and I gasped and whirled around to see my door fly open and smack against the wall.
My heart pounded in my chest. Nothing or nobody was there. I sat on the bed, shivering uncontrollably as though I’d never be warm again.
Petunia mustered up the courage to crawl out beneath the bed as she began barking, baring her teeth at the open doorway. I’d never seen her act like that before. Fliss and I looked at Petunia, then at the door.
I frowned.
“Petunia, knock it off,” I scolded.
She ignored me and continued barking at the doorway. Rolling her eyes, Fliss walked to the hallway and stood there for a moment, scrutinizing the tiny space. She came back into the room, shaking her head.
“Nothing. It’s just us here,” she said.
Petunia stopped then. The smell of vanilla and cold draft had faded, lingering faintly. I rose from the bed and picked up my camera, staring at the white blurs on the screen.
“What happened?” Fliss inquired.
“I’m not sure,” I said, dumbfounded. “I can’t explain it.”
“Well, maybe it was a draft.”
I looked at her. “It couldn’t have been. My window’s sealed shut.”
“I mean, maybe somewhere else in the house.” She took my arm. “Let’s go downstairs for a bit and watch TV. I don’t wanna be up here.”
I nodded in agreement. I placed the camera atop my study desk and followed Fliss out into the hallway, appreciating the distraction. At least for the moment, I didn’t want to think about the unsettling events of the last two days.