Someone Lost

Clemens lay on her side for a while. The tears went dry. She had fallen asleep and when she woke, it was dark.

She sat for a moment. Knees in.

Saw the crack in the curtain letting a fine line of light strike her face.

She parted the curtain and saw the front yard. Neither her car nor Ashley were there. Just a dusty dark desert road. And the moon. She looked up. It was a crescent wink.

She tried the windows. Locked too.

“Okay…” she said.

She hugged the wall. Hands waving around. A light switch. Click. A low lit orange bulb in the ceiling went on.

She was yet again confronted by a mix of mannequin body parts. Sad. Distorted. Empty. Waiting.

There was a small bed. For someone much smaller than Clemens.

And a cupboard. She opened it. There were dresses inside. Running her fingers through. Fine. Silky. Patterned. Smelt old.

She rummaged inside and found a jewellery box inside.

There were a lot of little things inside. Buttons. Bobs. A photo. A man, a woman, and a little girl at the park. Little Jessie! It was the same red dress.

And a small key. Rusty.

Clemens brought it to her eye level.

She unlocked the bedroom door. The orange light wafting into a dark corridor. Her eyes, big. Silence.

She walked down the stairs. Creaking. Cracking. Slowly. The smell of birthday candles. A hand grabbed her neck. Pulling back. She struggled. His yellow nails digging into her neck.

A scream from her soul.

She pulled forward. They both tumbled down the stairs. His frail form, light. Tumbling… Crack! He cried out in pain. Weak brittle bones.

Head on the hard wood. Clemens crawled away. Inching to the wall. Her hands feeling her neck. Bloody bruise. Wide frightened eyes. Staring back at the old man creamy blue pupils.

“Don’t go…” he cried.

Clemens’ head brushed up against something. She looked up. The shotgun in its rack.