Echo

Chapter Seven

It appeared on my windowsill.

Black as night.

It stood out, like a clown at a funeral, glistening under the intense moonlight. The petals were wilting slightly, but the green stalk was still a vibrant green. The thorns, sharp as knives.

I remember the first night he sent me one, the first time I had ever gotten a small glimpse into his dark life, it was the anniversary of my fathers death.

Mother wasn’t exactly talkative, she scraped at her chicken, once warm but now, well I’m sure it was freezing. She picked at the peas, rolling them about on the china plate, her eyes downcast.

“Mum,” I probed, my words catching in my throat, “I-I know todays been hard.” her eyes flickered to mine for a second before looking across to the kitchens window, almost as if to tell me that she knew, she knew that today had been difficult. For both of us. “Can we just-”

“Rayne,” I stopped suddenly, her voice, which I had only heard three times in this one-day, “Just go to bed and lets remember your father for all the good he ever did.” She finished before swiping up her plate and dumping into the already filled sink. Her quick footsteps led her out of the room and the distant bang of the door told me she had gone out the front door.

She needed time alone.

“Right, let’s clean this mess up.” I told myself, before jumping up and starting the dishes, the hot water splashing onto me slightly.

My mind wondered as I looked out of the kitchens window, the view onto our back garden disturbed by the ever-growing darkness. My hands were constantly moving, round and round as they scrubbed the dishes, round and round. I was only a few years old when my father passed away, but I remember him, I remember his care free smile, the way his dark hair tufted out of the back of his head. He was the greatest man on earth and no one will ever beat hi-

A dark shadow moved over the lawn.

“What?” I squeaked, as I quickly dropped the plate in my hands back into the soapy water, my nose pressing up against the cool glass. It was clear; you could see the slight shimmer of the dew on the grass but nothing else. No shadow. “You’re an idiot Rayne.” I scolded myself, before starting back on the dishes.

A large crash sounded from the garden, a clanging metal echoing loudly. My heart lurched as I automatically reverted from the sink and slowly but, well unsurely, tiptoed to the back door, the hinge on the lock already open, almost as if it expected to be opened.

We never went out this way.

Deep breaths Rayne, deep breathes.

I tried calming myself before lifting a shaky wet hand to the wooden handle, grasping it in a tight hold.

“It’s probably just a cat.” I whispered to myself, but my mind was screaming at me. It’s probably a killer wanting to stab you, it’s a gunman ready to take you down, and it’s a- “Calm. Self. Rayne.” I slapped my face softly with my hand. These thoughts were disturbing for a thirteen year old.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

I slowly creaked the door open; the wave of fresh air hit my face as I slowly peaked my head out. The sound of distant cars could be heard, but other than that, nothing. No sound came from the garden, no odd shadow was moving along the path and no creepy killer was coming to end my life..

Laughing to myself I did a quick walk around the immaculate garden before heading back towards the kitchen door. I over reacted; I knew I had, nothing outside was out of place.