PURGATORY

CHAPTER 1: A Shadow in the Corner

     The leaves in Auburn, Maine always turned a crimson red in the fall. The streets and hillsides looked as if they were stained in blood. To many strangers it can be an alluring, if not mesmerizing site to see.  Although, the people of Auburn have grown quite fond of their town's peculiarity it is not something they tend to dwell on. You see there are many strange things that happen in this small fishing town. One of theses strange things is the history of the Reeves' family. 

     On top of the highest hill their was an old victorian style home. It sat alone surrounded by many trees. The leaves and branches cascaded over the roof of the home, allowing it to just barely peek through. The home is a pale white with chips of paint peeling off the walls. The large wrap around porch has broken pieces of wood stabbing the air. The home itself seems to be falling apart but after many years of wear and tear it stands tall, surviving even the strongest of ocean storms. Being in the town's most viable location many locals feel as if the home should be theirs given the fact that the current residents have allowed the home to fall to such a damning condition. 

     Twenty years earlier the home belonged to a man named Christopher Jones. He owned a profitable fishing company and decided to invest his earnings into his own home for the future family he had wished for. He had met a young woman named Maria Reeves and had fallen deeply in love with her. In the short time they've known each other they became engaged and had two children, Nicholas and Isabella Reeves. Unfortunately, Christopher had lost his life in a tragic accident during a fishing expedition. He had left his home and all of his worldly possessions to Maria and his two children. 

     Inside the home it was very average. Family photos layered the walls, giving insight into the families history to visitors. In the living room there was a woman in her late thirties laid out on an old red couch. The fabric was torn in the back allowing anyone to see the old foam and wires poking out. The woman was wrapped in a quilt. She seemed as if she was freezing. Her hair was a light brown with patches of gray growing from the roots. She was beautiful but the dark shadows over her eyes made her look sick. Her frailty was obvious to anyone. This woman is Maria Reeves. 

     She sat alone with her eyes focused on a large box screen t.v. Some outdated daytime reality show was playing and every now and again the screen would readjust itself. Maria didn't care for the show, but continued watching. Perhaps it was boredom that kept her locked to the screen or perhaps it was her unease. Maria was not a very active person. In fact, laying on the couch was how she spent a vast majority of her time. She would only get up to eat or use the bathroom maybe once a day. Her children had to make sure that she was taken care of. You see Maria was plagued with a debilitating dependency on anti depressants. After the loss of her late fiance Maria fell into a horrible rut of depression and loneliness. Her children were the only ones that kept  her going, but now that they were grown her will to live and to love were fading away.

     She sat up slowly and reached for a glass of water that was on a dinner tray. Next to the water were various pill bottles. Not all of them were actually prescribed to her, but she took them regularly. After taking a sip of water she opened one of the pill bottles and placed two of them into her mouth, then took another swig of the water. It dripped down her chin and on to the quilt that she so desperately clung to. She rubbed her eyes and began coughing. Her coughs sounded like death in the most literal way. She was dying. Her mental illness is truly getting the best of her. 

     Maria took a look a the clock in the living room. It was nearly time for her kids to be home. She could hear the low rumble of her son's truck pull up the driveway. Instead of getting up to greet her children she lay back down and wrapped herself even deeper in the quilt. She began to drift off. Sleep was her greatest comfort in life and never relished anything as much as a good rest.