Page 87
Story: These Fleeting Shadows
I rolled out of the bed. My knees buckled, but I pushed backup to my feet and staggered to the door. Locked. Of course it was. But that wasn’t the only way out.
I went to the wall and put my palms against it. “Come on,” I whispered. “Help me.”
My hands sank into the wall. It was like pushing my hands through dried out pumpkin guts. I shut my eyes as I squeezed through and staggered out the other side. I was wearing a tank top and pajama shorts that smelled stale—I should have grabbed shoes, I realized, but it was too late for that. I glanced left and right, then dashed in the direction of the back hall.
I didn’t have a plan other than to get to Bryony. I hardly dared to breathe as I scuttled through the hallways, down the stairs. I was almost out the back when a door opened behind me. Caleb shouted. I broke into a sprint. Twenty feet from the door.
A hand closed around my wrist, and then Caleb spun me against the wall, pinning my arm behind me.
“Apparently, we should have been keeping a closer watch on you,” Caleb said with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I really am.” The barrel of the gun pressed against my spine.
I barely heard the shot.
—
I woke again, but this time I wasn’t alone. My ankle was chained to the foot of the bed, and my hands were bound before me. Iris, Eli, and Caleb were gathered around me.
“And there we are,” Eli said. “Good morning, Helen. You recovered more quickly that time. I think you’re getting better at building yourself.”
“Fuck you,” I managed. My head was pounding. I shut my eyes against the light.
“We can’t keep doing this,” Caleb said. “It’s cruel.”
“It’s not human, Caleb. You’re wasting your pity,” Iris said. “But I am tired of stains in the carpets, I suppose.”
“I have an idea,” Caleb said. “We’ve seen the effect the house has on it before—it loses track of time. Almost a kind of hypnosis. Routine and repetition dull its senses. If we can induce it to walk the halls and create a sequence for it to enact each day, I think we can keep it under control. But I need a bit more time to prepare.”
I stared at him in horror, not sure what to say in response to that. He wasn’t even looking at me. I wasitnow. Had he ever, even for a moment, really thought that I was real? That I was a person?
Eli held out a small black bottle to me, uncapped. “Drink this,” he said.
“Is it poison?” I asked, voice rough.
“No,” he said. “But it will make you sleep.”
“I’m not drinking anything,” I said. “I—”
Caleb leaned in. I barely saw the knife before he drove it up through my jaw. At least this time, the pain was brief.
I dreamed of Harrow. There was a steady sound all around me, the ceaseless ticking of a metronome. I walked the halls in a precise pattern, making my way steadily from the top floor downward, driven by a force I couldn’t resist. Around and around and down, until the heart of Harrow lay open before me. I walked to the foot of the Harrow stone and knelt.
My fawn scapula lay in the dirt before it. I reached for it—and I was walking again, beginning the journey once more.
At first, I struggled against the procession, but soon enough I had no notion of why I should. I reached the heart of the house, I began again. This was the shape of Harrow. This was what was right.
I dreamed of Harrow, and then I woke. I was alone in my room, and the morning bell was ringing. I rose and got dressed. I arrived downstairs for breakfast just as the next bell rang. I took my seat near the end of the table, next to Caleb, and Iris put a plate down in front of me.
“Good morning, Helen,” she said.
“Good morning,” I murmured. Everyone was there. Everyone but Simon.
My mother wouldn’t look at me.
Time slipped. I was in my room. Daylight shone through the window, and I stared blankly down at the slim figure in the gray dress who stood at the edge of the trees. I almost remembered her name, but time slipped away from me again.
I was at the dinner table, and the bell was ringing. I gazed dully at the place setting before me. Salad fork, dinner fork, knife, soup spoon. Someone had explained all of that to me once.
Celia sat across from me. Desmond, too. They wouldn’t look at me either.
Table of Contents
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