The sun
looked like a tiny ball of fire, which was spewing out golden flames. The
clouds seemed to engulf it in an endless abyss, leaving the streets of Rochelle with a murky evening. She got a soothing vibe when she peered out of the
windscreen. A sense of calm which was so serene and the surge of contentment so
eclectic that all the shitty things happening in her life seemed like nothing
but water which were going to evaporate soon. It seemed as if it were going to
rain. She was driving so fast, like a storm raging, like there was nothing in
the entire universe that could stop her. On the radio was playing one of her
favorite songs ‘Sweet Disposition’ by The Temper Trap. She put the volume loud.
It felt like as if everything around her had vanished into forgetfulness and it
was just her, the car, music and the sky. Becket, saw the mountains emerging
from far away and knew she was where she belonged. She missed her mum and dad
more than anything right now, but she told herself it was okay. They would be proud
of her when she’d break the news to them. Her screenplay had just been
nominated for an Academy Award. It was her debut and she nailed it hard.
Still,
studying at Perkin Oaks High school, in Rochelle, Becket was nobody but just
another random human being treading through those bricked corridors every day.
Driving her old Toyota to the school, which she got as a gift from her
grandparents when she turned eighteen, she was a hardcore recluse. Nineteen
years of her existence, but known to not many people other than Daniel her year
old brother, Cilia; her year older sister, parents and grandparents. She always
wondered if it mattered, being known. But in the end, the conclusion to what
she reached was that in the end it mattered what you do and what you remember
doing that actually made you feel satisfied and something you loved doing.
Something that made others smile and would stay in her memories until the time
would fade away forever. And what mattered to her the most was that she had
some people who loved her unconditionally and she was thankful for that,
without any boundaries. They knew her worth.
She was
battling a fatal disease for the last two years and it was getting hard. It was
a sheath of little tumors in her shoulder at first. But after getting the MRI
it turned out to be in the neck and back too. She knew she had to fight hard to
make it. She stopped at a grocery mart near the towns’ intersection to get some basic
supplies, paints, books, records and shitloads of milk, Kit Kats and Nuts. And
of course a gift for Alan, her neighbor; she used to give random presents to
people in her town. It made her feel content and nice. After parking her car,
she went through the back door and popped into the kitchen where everyone was
having dinner. Her mom almost jumped and threw the celery-filled pot from her
hands, which her dad saved from smashing onto the wooden floor, thanks to his
cool reflexes. Daniel ran from his chair and got over her and started hugging
her like he hadn’t seen since forever. Becket had gone to California to meet
her agent who had arranged a meet-up with some directors who wanted her to
write scripts for their films. It was there when the call came. Her sister had
sent her the script ‘The Lake of Light and Fire’ to the Academy. And they
really loved it. It was something, they had never come across. A rare style
with a fiery and passionate determination; they’d said. She kissed her folks
night as she was awfully tired and went to her room to doze off. Her house was
on the northeast side of Harrington town in Rochelle, Ohio. It was a two-storey
mansion with a huge backyard where she grew veggies with her dad and siblings.
It had a swing on which two people could sit and it would just keep swaying
until either got off. The living room was normal with some comfortable black
and off-white futons, almost in the shade of light turquoise, the walls were
painted were painted dark blue and there was this gray-bricked wall that had a
fireplace and a gigantic TV above it. Her room was a normal cube shaped one.
Loads of books, DVDs and sketched were seen to cover the shelves that filled
the whole room. There was a red led lamp beside her bed. She put the pillow
under her head and with her boots still on drifted into a calm sleep. When she
woke up, she saw Tulips of almost every color placed on the windowsill in the
black case. They had a note attached to them.
‘Come over when, you turn eighty.
Love,
Jason’
She grinned
and went downstairs. Danielle, her mom was making breakfast. Corn and tomato soup
with croissants and limejuice. She declared an all-out offensive over her meal,
as she had skipped dinner. Then she drove off to J’s place. She had always
called him J. He was her best friend. He lived in a little, but phenomenal
apartment, with her wife, Susan, across Dayton Avenue, which was two blocks
from her place. They got married when
she was in eighth grade. Susan greeted her at their door with ever loving; warm
hugs and they went inside. Jason was putting up some painting they had recently
got from an auction at a NY art gallery, Susan told her. Jason was a man with
nicely built muscles, and mild complexion. His hair was rather messed up. He
was an exquisite art lover. Besides, he always had a knack for stacking art
pieces. He painted as well and sent his drawing all over the states for display
at various museums. They had lunch together. Then all three of them watched a
movie and she went back home. Beckett took a short nap before waking up in the
evening with a terrible fever. She took some aspirins and pulled her laptop
from under her pillow. She thought of writing a story. Writing was something
she felt connected to so much that it was her best cure, even the doctors said
so. Sometimes she just felt she couldn’t ‘fit’ in but it was okay she always
told herself. It didn’t matter. She started typing. It got dark and her mum
called her downstairs for dinner, but she stayed in her room. She just wanted
to walk on a road. A long never ending road which had no end or maybe which led
to a cliff which had a huge fall. She was not quite sure. She wrote about her
journey to Beverley Hills and people she met there. The feeling was so surreal
and eclectic. She fell asleep while writing.
The next
moring was exhaustive. She skipped breakfast, to prepare for her history quiz,
which was on French Revolution, which afterwards she realized, was a bad
decision. She knew she would do well, but to assure her annoying restlessness she
crossed swords with her id and went outside to the backyard where she had
camped for the night. Her books were lying open along the wooden bench. There
were black and white roses lying beside her chair, which she thought her dad
had sat in the morning to give to her mum. Her mum loved roses and her dad knew
it well to amaze her with little delights. A glass of orange juice with some
crackers was also placed there with a post-it that read ‘don’t dare to leave
these’. Whatever she said to herself and packed up her stuff after going
through her notes precisely. Then she took her car keys from the hallway, it was
paneled with wood and some old photographs hung beside the door which led to
the entrance. An evergreen gave a lively touch to the place. She turned on the
engine and drove off. She entered the school cafeteria after a three-hour English
lit lecture with her friends Hans, Georgia and Kyle to have lunch. It was huge.
The walls were painted in light red and orange with touch of off-white. The
floor was marbled; there were eight long horizontal tables with chairs lined
alongside them, which ended some inches before the food counter and drinks
corner. The counter had all kinds of foods put up there. They did not need to
pay to get food because they were the graduating class and they were given this
privilege by their headmaster, Mr Stanley. There was a nutrition bar corner to
the right of the exit door. A huge wall clock was mounted over the door, which
had beautiful venetian art on it. Kyle got them places at the end of the second
table. They put their bags there and Beckett banged her head on the table with
a little nudge. And they all broke into silly laughter. They all shared the
same subjects and were fun to be with she thought. Although she did not have ‘real’
friends, but they hung around with her whenever they could. Kyle went to get
them food. Today tacos and truffles were being served. They were favs. Then she
had a nightmarish revelation after some while. She had her drama and music club,
hours after school until six. All of the others were going out to see a movie,
but she had to stay back as she was the student council’s vice-president. They
practiced for the upcoming annual play in which she was starring as Clara, an
evil witch who had cast a spell over a whole village and turned them into butterflies.
It was funny, she thought. The thought of human beings being so little helpless
things, but everything was beautiful in its own way. So there was no reason to
resent what God was doing. They got done with it by six-thirty. Everybody
started leaving in a hurry. She went outside to see what made everyone leave in
such a rush.
It had gone
dark, though the clouds still glowed murkily and lit up like a vast sheet of glass,
which was blurred by fog and was illuminated with a light coming from far away
as if somebody had smudged the sky with dark gray sticky substance, as if a
blanket of dark gray clouds covered all of the sky. She had worn her boots
today luckily with her red fur coat, which her mum had given her as a gift when
she came back from Seville. It kept her warm enough to survive. She thought how
much she was going to miss all that, even though she would not exist anymore,
but still she thought she would miss it wherever she would go after. Then she
started crying, because she did not want to see her family in pain, but it was
something she couldn’t choose. It was God’s will. The wind was cold, it pierced
and it she felt as if some shrapnel were being thrown at her skin. Which made
her feel numb and yearn for a warm place. She hurried towards her car which was
parked in the middle of the parking area. The grass area which ran along the
road was covered by a mixture of melted snow and mud. She drove slowly and
carefully so as to avoid any accident and not die before her time. She still
did not lose her sense of humor after so much bitterness, she contemplated. And
that was a great achievement for someone like her who was so prone to
submitting themselves to the mercy of pessimism. Her phone was on the dashboard
when it buzzed. ‘Unknown’ the screen flashed repeatedly. ‘Who could it be?’ she
asked herself and attended the call reluctantly. There was heavy breathing at
the other end, there was a shrieking noise coming from far behind the person
whoever was calling. It seemed as if someone had dialed and left the phone
unattended. ‘Probably a prank by one of her classmates’ she tried to satisfy
herself. It buzzed again. No voice on the other end, after a minute when she
going to hang up someone answered it was a faint and feeble cry. The women
spoke softly. ‘Pl-please help me, I’m near the lake… he’ll kill me…’ and then
she heard a shot and the line was disconnected, she threw the phone with a jolt
on the seat. What did just happen, she wondered. There was only one lake, Lake Mare
near Rochelle, an hour’s drive away she recalled. Was it a bad idea to go
there? ‘No, I must check it out’ she told herself. She left a voice message for
Jason to call her up ASAP, but didn’t tell him that she was leaving for the
lake and about the weird phone call. It was raining even harder as she got near
the lake. The road that led towards the lake had a thin forest on one side and
a mountain range ran aside it. She felt an unnerving uneasiness crawl under her
skin and the place was giving her the creeps. She stopped her car where the
road ended and led to the little deserted resort near the far east of the lake.
There was nobody to be seen there at that time, of course she mused. At this
time anybody would be an idiot to be out here in this weather. She saw somebody
walking towards her, their hands held outwards as if they wanted to be found or
they were searching for something. She picked up a stick lying on the way and
took out her club-knife just in case. She had to be cautious. It could be a
crook. Crooks were said to be out there by the local PD in the last week and
the public was advised to be cautious. It was a guy, in his late teens, she deliberately
thought, and he had a gun in his hand.
She couldn’t
see his face because he was far away and the rain was making it hard to see. ‘Oh
shit’ she let out a muffled shriek and her foot was stuck between some stones. Luckily,
her voice was masked by the rain splattering over the soil, making it hard to
decipher petite sounds. She had to get out of there. Fast. She searched for her
phone, but remembered that she put it in her bag before locking the car’s door.
‘I’m so damned’ she whispered to herself. The person couldn’t see her as she
was behind some trees. But he was approaching fast. Maybe he had called her.
Maybe that sound was not that of a woman, but a murderer. These days there were
applications introduced which could even mimic the president’s voice. How could
she let her thoughts be clouded like that? ‘Damn!’ she thudded the surface mistakenly.
She tried to put pressure on her leg to get her foot out of there, but the pain
was getting control of her and she felt a sudden pang on her head from behind
and everything went black. When she gained consciousness, she found herself
tied to a pole. Her knees were burning and she realized they had been scratched
awfully. ‘No! Let me out’ she shouted, ‘let go of me, you prick, who are you…
you scared asshole… why are you hiding? Did you kill that woman? I am not
afraid of you’ she resisted. Her hands had started bleeding due to being rubbed
frequently in her efforts to get them out of the rope. When the stranger
emerged out of the dark corner she suddenly felt as if someone had shot her a
thousand times in a second. ‘Cat got your tongue darling?’ Kyle popped in front
of her with a razor. He was wearing worn off clothes. His trouser was cut from
many places and there were streaks of blood all over his white cardigan. His hair
was shaved off, not the gentle type he looked at that time as he did at school.
White gloves covered his hands and he was wearing a dark thing on his eyes,
which made him look even more horrific. His eyes had that repulsively heinous
playfulness to them. He moved his hands in a wriggling manner, twisting Beckett’s
wrists. ‘Well, well, well. Look, whom do we have here? The gorgeous miracle of
my life, Beckett Clayton, eh?’ he mocked her. ‘B-b-but why—you- Kyle no... this
is a dream… Wake up you fool, wake up....’ she told herself, ablaze with soreness,
tears burning her face like chlorine on skin. ‘This, dear, is not a dream. I am
very much here’, he moved the razor caressingly on her neck. ‘Oh, no! This
hurts. Kyle why-- why would you do this to me?’ Beckett moaned in anguish. Then
he told her. How he had developed feelings for her and she kept on ignoring him
and avoided him. And how she just viewed him as a mere friend and not her love.
‘But you can’t force me to love you this way. I can’t Kyle. I am dying. Please do
not hurt me. I feel so sick. I…’ her voice fainted away. She passed out in
endless pain from the fresh cut on her neck. He went near her and moved the
hair aside from her face. He held her face in his hand and whispered into her
ears as if she were listening, ‘I am not going to let you get away, ever. You’ll
be my slave and I’ll feed on your tears and blood. Your cries will the fuel for,
my joy and your pain the strength of me’ he grinned and jolted her head and
crushed her leg under his boots. She winced suddenly, but then fell unconscious
again.
It had stopped
raining. It was the time of dawn. Kyle was not there. There were some blades
and a saw lying there on the floor covered in blood. She puked with disgust. ‘No,
no I can’t… I..’ she cried relentlessly. She felt pain ripping every fiber in
her body apart, like infinite needles pricking her body making it wasteful to
move. Even so, she had to escape from this hell. Or she was going to go mad
here. She had to escape, she told herself. She was still feeling groggy due to
the sedative Kyle gave her before leaving so she could not make noise or try to
escape. Her pants were covered in mud and her shirt back was still wet from the
blood that was still dripping from her neck. Beckett felt weak. But she managed
to get her hands out of the rope. The door was locked. She found a steel rod
and used to it to break the lock. Now she ran, and didn’t look back. The sky
was washed with faint blue color and birds were flying above. The lake looked
so beautiful she thought. But she must go on. Her car wasn’t there when she
reached the spot where she had left it. Flipping, she gathered back her senses
and went near the barn, she saw from far away. It was left to fade away as the
time passed by. The hay lying around it had started to smell rotten and there
was a deadly terrible smell coming from inside it. She wondered what was
inside. There was not time to spare, but she had to get some water and
something to defend herself in case she came across Kyle at this time, which
she thought was unlikely because he must have been at school. Everybody must be
looking for her, she knew. But how would they find her here, lake Mare was a
spot known to a few number of residents of Rochelle, it was infamous for its eeriness.
She cracked the door open and what she saw next shook her entire existence.
There were corpses of men and women, teenagers. Which hung from the thick cord.
They were naked. Their skin was scratched with weird inscriptions. She felt ghastly
at once and wanted to scream, but somebody was within hail she could feel that.
She hid behind the wooden boxes that created a barrier between her and the barn
door. Kyle entered, whimpering. He was murmuring something indecipherable. He
was holding that nine millimeter he had the day it rained. He smashed his fists
on the wall. ‘Fuck them, I’ll murder them all. They want a monster they’ll get
one. I’ll suck the blood out of them until their bodies rot away and animals
feed off their skin’ he whispered in an evil manner. But what happened after
that was something Beckett couldn’t understand nor did she feel like giving it
a thought because it was too graphic to visualize or even recall about. Kyle
held the black trigger against his head and blew his brains out. Maybe that was
his reprieve she thought. A way of releasing the demon inside him, which had
plagued his soul and haunted this place.
She lay low
until she got the courage to get up and walk. Everything seemed so calm. Not a
ripple in the lake water. The Sun was out now. The sky still looked pale blue.
Like page which had been painted with a pale blue watercolor. The birds that
flew so high looked as if tiny pencil sketches had been drawn over that
painting. The air was still, the trees looked lively after being washed away by
the rain. Some stray cats were strolling around. A knife lay beside a bush, she
pulled back suddenly. But tried to calm herself down. She breathed slowly for a
while and got back up. When she reached
the road, she found out some police cars passing by. The cars stopped. Jason
was in one of them. He ran towards her and took her in his arms. He told her he
had her message and after calling her incessantly and not getting any answer,
he got worried. He checked with her folks, but they add that she had not come
home. It was not unusual for Beckett, but J knew something was wrong, so he
told the Rochelle PD about it. They tracked her phone here. It had been a
tiring walk from the barn to the road, but it was worth it. She had managed to
escape from that hauntingly riveting place and felt secure now.
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