If You Resonate

I'm Fine

The foul sound wet leaves make against tires mashing them into the pavement, always sends me unpleasant chills. Everything feels dirtier in the rain and insidious creatures are lurking nearby, waiting to attach themselves in true parasitic form. By the time we crawl into the driveway of our new old nest, the sun has finally shown its face.

"We're here." Dad tries to keep a light, enthusiastic tone, however the deep frown on his face gives him away. I know he's concerned how this move will affect me. "Ro, wake up son. Eli, why don't you go pick out a room." I unfold myself and leave the van without a word.

Complete with protruding twigs, mud patches and feathers, this is exactly the type of place you'd catch a disease. Maybe at one point, this place was grand with three floors and a second floor balcony. I'm sure many fine ladies had tea and desserts during bright summer days. Not now. The place had the look that nobody loved it. green and brown vines strangled the old wood to the threat of collapse. Portions that were obviously new additions held their against decades of wind and rain corrosion. If I were to hear stories of the dilapidated building wailing in the dead of night, I wouldn't be surprised if it were both the wind screaming through halls and the dead calling out. Some windows are cracked or completely broken, likely the cause of mischievous kids and timber.

Right after I jimmy the ancient lock open, the abrasive scent of mildew knocks me back several steps. Dad told us that no one has lived here in at least three decades, but his family has owned this mansion for several generations. Actually, he said ever since his family first immigrated to Virginia, from Italy they've owned this mansion, having built it from the ground up. Over the years it's been modernized, even adding extensions including two more bathrooms, a back porch, a sun room and a second floor balcony. The total room count is roughly sixteen, which includes common areas.

I hold my sleeve over my nose and brave a look around the place. The piercing squeals of mice and scratching on the floor meet me with each step. White sheets cover furniture left by the last resident. I pull a dust covered sheet from an antique mahogany coffee table. Unable to wave away the particles in the air, I take this as a lesson learned and head towards the spiral staircase. A thick layer of grey dust completely obscures the original color of the wood, even with the impression of my foot left behind, the only visible color is grey.

That's hella depressing.

The top of the stairs directly connects to a foreboding hallway, lined with rooms. Some with doors embossed in gold and all uninhabited, except one. At the very end of the shadowy hall, a light shone beneath the closed door. The sun perhaps? Rooms don't talk, but this one is clearly inviting me. It could also be another vision yet all I care about is that light. I gradually approach the light, straining my ears for any sound of movement. It could be that someone is here, working on the house.

Warmth emanates from the room and door knob itself is as though it's been kissed by the sun. Carefully, I turn the knob preparing to be greeted by Apollo's rays or an unpleasant death. I'm speechless when this room is just as dark and dusty as the rest of the house. As if trying to find the location of someone calling my name, I scan the room with squinted eyes.

It's not a vision since nothing is happening, but there's also no sun... In fact, there are heavy drapes covering the windows completely. This room is large, at least five hundred square feet. Just like downstairs, the abandoned furniture is covered in dusty white sheets. The faint scent of tobacco smoke mingles with the mildew. It's disappointing, but what was I expecting?

Since I'm already here, might as well air the place out.

I pull the curtains back, quickly turning away from the dust storm. Reaching nearly six feet in height and four feet in width, the view from this room must be truly magnificent. A few beams break through the grime. Still, not nearly enough to produce the capacity that a window this size offers nor anything equal to why I was drawn here to begin with. The amount of light currently visiting wouldn't even serve as a nighttime reading light.

Curious, I want to see what lies beyond the glass. Digging my fingers beneath the sticky frame, I heaved until the click in my shoulder gave notice to abort. Attempting to open the window, as if it hadn't been glued shut with thirty years of gunk wasn't the smartest plan and my shoulder will forever bear a grudge. I huff exasperated and search for something to help me pry it apart, but it is too dark to find anything useful.

Shrugging in concession, I take a step towards the door and there I spot it in plain sight. An old crow bar now patiently awaited me to make use it's convenient appearance. It wasn't there before, but there are few things I question anymore. Shimmying one end between the pane and the window, I spread my feet apart, brace myself, and push down full power. I seemingly used too much strength because the window shot up as if it was never stuck to begin with.

Am I being played?

I continued with the other three windows and the room was alight with the gift of the sun. I close my eyes and let the rays wash over me.

"It's been a while since I've felt the sun." As if by habit, I whip my head in the direction of the voice. There's no one there.

I know better than to call out, but I still don't leave. I wait for a while, but he doesn't show himself or speak again.

Where are you?