(18+) Someone in the dark

Ch. 12: Stay away

I was late with Mr. Jackson's breakfast. I'd been spending so much time on the frame and the mirror that I forgot the time, and now I was making pancakes in a hurry. The tray was done with the usual flower on the napkin, and the orange juice was standing next to it. Gray. Just like everything else. I wondered if it tasted any different, and if Mr. Jackson would eat gray food. But it wasn't like I had any choice. Only the flower still had a vague hint of purple that faded for each passing minute.

My heart fluttered at the thought of what he said. He liked the flowers, and the thought made me smile. At least I tried to smile. But just like Mrs. Lee and Leo, it never reached my eyes anymore, no matter how hard I tried.

The fatigue was almost suffocating when I walked to his room with the food. The stairs had never been as long and steep as now, and I felt like a ninety-year-old when I finally put the tray on the table and rang the bell.

If only I could talk to him again. Maybe it was selfish, but I really needed a hug right now. Just like the one he gave me in my dream, or in the conservatory. Or in my imagination. I was confused. But thinking about it only made my headache worse, so I dragged my feet back to the kitchen to put some extra effort into planning the dinner.

Today I wanted to make something special. I just hadn't figured out what yet. I still didn't know what his favorite food was because I simply forgot to ask. It hadn't exactly been the first thing on my mind when I met such a mysterious man.

I suddenly remembered the cookbook I had found when I cleaned the kitchen. Maybe I could find a new recipe there? So I skipped through the pages and saw handwritten measurements, lists of ingredients, and personal notes about temperatures, amounts, and how you prepared the food. My mouth got watery, imagining the different dishes, but my stomach didn't respond. I just wasn't hungry anymore.

There was a recipe for baked lemon salmon. I wanted to try that one day, but there was another one that looked even more tempting. Fried chicken with a special, homemade season, and I knew exactly where that box was. The handwritten label was still readable; 'Kentucky'.

"Kentucky fried chicken," I said to myself and once again failed to smile. Despite my lack of appetite, I was actually looking forward to eating the leftovers together with Jack. Whatever he was, he was a good friend.

I skipped through the last few pages and found recipes on light dishes, pasta, salads, cakes, and cookies. Maybe I could bake some chocolate cookies to add as a dessert to his dinner? I know he used to avoid stuff like that, but maybe he could do an exception for once? It would be nice to show him I appreciated our moments together, even though they were short and confusing. I just wanted him to know that I cared.

On the last five pages, I found that old ketchup made the paper sticky and difficult to separate. And since it was old, and the pages fragile, it was hard to open without ruining them. The stains were deep red, almost black, and I noticed they grew bigger for each page. And then, on the last page, there was a word in the same red color. A word that made the blood freeze in my veins:

"HELP!"

"Why do things like this happen so naturally in this house?" I asked no one, and I rubbed my head when I tried to define what was natural or not. I didn't know anymore. Here at The Silver Fox Mansion, it just melted into the long list of unexplainable incidents. It scared me, for sure, but it didn't help to be scared. I could only stand back and watch everything happen right in front of me. It was like I'd already given up, and I didn't even know when I'd stopped fighting.

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Mrs. Lee hadn't given me any chores today, which I found strange. I'd told her I was going to finish cleaning the windows, and I think she finally realized how big of a job that was. Or maybe she just felt sorry for me?