Fade: Chapter III

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Chapter III2

Melissa woke up on a dusty couch; a musky red blanket was thrown over her legs. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the room’s dim light, at first she thought she was in her living room but the floral-printed furniture and odd nicknacks proved otherwise. She sat up on the couch and tossed the blanket off of her legs.3

Where am I? She thought as she looked around the strange room. The walls were decorated with numerous pictures, all too bleak to make out but none familiar in the least. Melissa stood up rubbed her forehead with her hand, slowly wondering what exactly happened; in her mind flashed the sight of strange, hovering lights. The unpleasant warmth that had earlier filled the night air with tension, seemed to have seeped inside the house as well.4

Melissa fumbled around in the dim-light until she was able to find a small lamp. The room lit up enough so that she could actually see; she walked over into the nearby kitchen and looked around for any sign of life. Everything was caked in a layer of dark-grey dust, which even seemed to cling to the refrigerator and brownish-stained sink. 5

“Hello . . . ” Melissa called out in a voice more hesitant than exclamatory. She glanced around the room until making her way over to the kitchen table. She slowly pulled out a chair, causing a dull screeching noise to echo through the silent house; she jumped from the unexpected sound. After brushing some of the dust off, Melissa took a seat on the aging chair. The kitchen was a mess and like the rest of the house it looked as if it hadn’t been used in years. She placed her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. She looked down at the table and notice that a small envelope had been pinned under her elbow. 6

The Thatchers7

191 Welshman Road,8

Silkwood MD, 23639

“191 Welshman Road . . . ” Melissa repeated to herself. That’s Maggie’s address. She stood up and set the envelope down on the table. She couldn’t possibly be in Maggie’s house, she had visited it before and never recalled it looked so unkempt and old. I wonder if someone helped me inside . . . Melissa thought as she remembered collapsing in front of the strange lights. Silkwood was full of old houses; it wouldn’t have been too odd for this to be one of them.10

“Hello?” Melissa called again as she turned her attention to the door which stood in-between the kitchen and living room; again, nothing but silence answered her hesitant call. Suddenly a beam of light flashed outside the kitchen window just as Melissa was about to open the door, the light was followed by high-pitched barking. She wiggled the doorknob from side-to-side without any luck, apparently something was keeping the door shut. Who locks a door from the outside? She thought to herself as she let out a small sigh.11

Melissa stared down at the envelope she had placed on the kitchen table, it seemed odd that someone would lock a door from the outside and even stranger that the house would seem so vacant inside. Somebody has to be here. She thought, remembering how she had been covered by a small blanket. She glanced over at what appeared to be a staircase that ran up to the floor above, she didn’t want to wake anyone up but she felt a need to know where she was. Melissa wiped her hands off on her jeans and pushed her dark hair out of her face. The kitchen and living room looked pretty empty, so the logical place to look would be upstairs.12

It wasn’t certain if the Thatchers had lived in the house or not, but whoever did live in the house was certainly not very clean. Melissa ascended the dusty staircase, causing a symphony of creeks and moans to echo through the wooden steps. Cobwebs were hung in just above every corner, and the pictures on the walls were covered in dust and grime. 13

When she finally reached the top of the unstable stairs, Melissa stopped for a moment. The floor was essentially a large hall with doors lined on either side, accompanying each door was a picture or two, each one more caked in dust than the next. She turned her attention to the door closest to her, which was decorated by a picture on either side of it.14

She reached out and jiggled the doorknob to no avail, then she looked over at the dusty pictures. Curious, she pulled her long-sleeves over her hand and rubbed off the years of dust that obscured the picture. It was a photograph of some sort, it was dark and grainy, but appeared to be the large hill behind her house. On it, of course, was the Jamestown highway that eventually lead straight into the city. She turned to the larger picture and did the same to it, dusting it off before stepping back to view it properly. She squinted her eyes at the picture, it appeared to be a zoomed in a portion of the same stretch of highway; this picture however was of what looked like a car crash. Who hangs a picture of a car wreck in their hallway? Melissa thought as she continued to walk down the hall, paying no attention to the fact that the car in the picture was the same model as her mother’s.15

The house seemed so empty, yet filled with an unsettling tension. Melissa looked up and down the hall until she decided to knock on the third door from the end of the hallway. As she approached the door, she heard something strange, at first it sounded like a dog or animal barking, but as she got closer it seemed to morph into something more human, as if someone was crying. She knocked on the door in three rapid successions, no one answered. She knocked again, this time nervously adding “Is anyone there?”, again no one answered. She sighed but reached out for the doorknob anyway, this time the door actually opened.16

The room looked like it was in shambles, even the wallpaper had begun to peel off the walls in yellowish strips. Melissa looked over at a small, dusty pink bed which was decorated with equally dusty teddy bears. It looks like a little girl’s room. She thought as she took a few steps into the room, suddenly the strange noise she heard earlier started up again; it was definitely crying and it was definitely nearby.17

“Is anyone in here?” Melissa asked nervously, afraid of actually getting an answer. She didn’t hear anything, but saw the bottom of the bed-sheets suddenly move. She walked up near the bed and the crying began again, this time rather loudly. She decided–against her better judgement–to look under the bed, so she dropped her knees and held up the sheets that dangled below the bed. She could hear the sobbing, but still couldn’t see anything. She had to get closer. Melissa got down on her knees and shimmied under the dark, dusty bed. 18

The crying was slowly stifled and Melissa was slowly able to make out the body of a young girl. Her shaky hands covered her face, which was probably soaked with tears. Melissa tried to remain calm. “Hi . . . ” She said peering at the scared girl. “My name’s Melissa . . . who are you?”19

Suddenly the little girl dropped her hands and started to crawl out of the other end of the bed. Melissa did the same, eager to escape the cobwebs and dust. The little girl approached Melissa; her eyes were wider than a deer’s. “Melissa?” she said hesitantly. “It . . . can’t be you.” She looked puzzled as she stared at Melissa through the dim light.20

“What do you mean?” Melissa asked. “Do I . . . know you?”21

The little girl took a step back and shyly put her hands inside her pink short-pockets. “Of course you know me!” she then looked down at her sneaker-covered feet and sighed. “...but not really.”22

“Who are you?” Melissa asked, unsure if the girl was trying to play a game or what.23

“Me?” The little girl looked sort of hurt. “You say you’re Missy but you don’t act like her at all. You’re old.” Melissa paused for a moment, a bit shocked that this strange girl knew the nickname she had called by as a kid. 24

“Please tell me, where are we?” Melissa asked sincerely.25

“What do you mean? You’re home.” The girl raised her right eyebrow questioningly.26

“This isn’t my home.” Melissa said matter-of-factly as she glanced right into the girl’s piercing green eyes. “What’s your name?” she added.27

The little girl sighed and the walked over to her bed. “You’re acting really weird.” She said before jumping up on the bed, causing dust to fly throughout the room; she seemed unfazed by the sudden cloud of musk and dirt, but Melissa let out a slight cough. “It’s me Maggie!” the girl said, her small face pouting.28

Melissa paused, this little girl couldn’t be Maggie . . . still the envelope downstairs indicated that this was the Thatcher’s house, and this girl was claiming to be Maggie Thatcher. “You can’t be Maggie.” Melissa said, almost angry about what was going on. “She’s almost seventeen!”29

The little girl smiled. “No, I’m not!” she giggled. “I’m gonna be nine in four weeks though! Don’t you even remember how old I am, you never forgot my birthday before . . . or at least Missy never did.” She said, looking rather serious all of a sudden.30

“I am Miss–I mean, I am Melissa” Melissa exclaimed, a bit more angrily than she had intended.31

“Well, Melissa isn’t old like you.” Maggie pouted. “Sides, you’re acting weird.”32

“Well . . . Maggie isn’t a little girl, she’s my age.” Melissa said defensively. She sighed and then glanced down at the bed that Maggie was sitting on. “...by the way, why were you hiding under there?” she asked.33

“I thought our Daddy was home.” Maggie said looked down at her hands. “I thought it was almost that time again.”34

“What are you . . . ” Melissa said, looking into the girl’s teary eyes. “I don’t have a father.”35

“Are you really Melissa?” Maggie asked as she studied the elder girl’s face.36

“I already said that I am.” Melissa said. “Is there anyone else home?”37

“I thought maybe Daddy was home . . . he might have went in your room.” Maggie sighed again, this time looked a bit angry and sad at the same time.38

“My room?” Melissa asked.39

“You know, the one you and Daddy play in. If he’s not in there . . . you might find him . . . ” Maggie looked away. “Nevermind.”40

“What?” Melissa asked. “Where can I find him?”41

“Under the mattress where he hides all your toys.”42

“Under the mattress?” Melissa paused. “How could he–43

“He always plays with you Missy; he doesn’t care about me, not anymore. I...I...” Maggie’s eyes began to fill up with tears again.44

“Don’t cry . . . ” Melissa said, taking a few steps near Maggie. “I’ll . . . I’ll go look for your parents. I’ll go talk with them . . . just tell me what room he’s in.”45

“I told you, the one Daddy plays with you in.” Maggie said, still tearing at a quickening rate.46

“Which one is that?”47

“The one at the end of the hall!” Maggie said, bursting into tears. “You’re not Missy! Missy would know where it is! Daddy always plays with her.  He hates me! He hates mommy!” She threw herself on the dusty pink bed and began to sob uncontrollably into an equally aged teddy bear. Melissa reached out to the girl but then hesitated. I have to find her parents . . . she thought as she walked out of the room and closed the door. 48