Chapter Five – Perfectly Normal

Sunlight. Steamy, beautiful sunlight shines over our bodies as our skin is licked by the breeze. The clear water glistens under my sunglasses, making me turn over again. Sweat beads glide over my back as I lie halfway in the blowup pool. I feel sticky and gross but most importantly, I feel the summer sun searing my body. The water gently splashes as I get comfortable and soon I’m back to relaxing. Words cannot express how much I love hot days like this.

Katie is stretched out on the other end of the pool. Her turquoise swimsuit hugs her curves gracefully over her flawless skin. I sometimes wonder how on earth she could be my friend. In most aspects, we’re opposites. Katie is gorgeous and confident, making sure she’s known to the world and acting like a princess. She demands respect and earns it too.

I’m not like that. I don’t have a voluptuous feminine body but I’m not exactly boyish. I have a decent bra size and my butt isn’t bony. However, my insecurities rule over how I carry myself. Sure, I’ve inked up my arm but that doesn’t make me feel any more confident. I am who I am, I’m just afraid of what others think.

It’s a bad combination when you’ve got as many studs in your face like I do.

The cool water trickles from my body as I stand. As much as I love the pool, listening to music is more my thing. I pick up my towel and lean back on the scalding chair it was sitting on. Ever since Katie brought the kiddie pool over and forced me to keep it she’s been here almost every day. I don’t mind it in the slightest. I’ve asked why she doesn’t keep it at her house but her excuses are always the same.

“Because I have a dog and two brothers on vacation from college and you have a backyard big enough to keep it in,” she explained. It was the day she bought it and her swimsuit was already on under her sheer tank top. Hauling the deflated plastic around the corner of my house with a lawn chair on her back, she made herself at home in my backyard. Scott just watched, unfazed by the shenanigans of Katie anymore. “Besides,” she giggled. “I have an excuse to get out of the house.”

And now we are here, sunbathing like we’re the goddesses Katie thinks we are. I pick up my iPod hiding from the heat under my bag and stick in my ear buds. Her skin soaks in the rays as mine simmers in bliss. I love the sun on my face and pop infused rock music blasting in my ears. It’s the perfect thing after everything crazy that happened this morning. Rest and relaxation does wonders.

“Gail,” I hear Katie call me. She probably wants a drink from inside and is too lazy to get it. Her voice is muffled under my music so I pretend I don’t hear her. I keep my head down and let myself daydream, ignoring the oncoming headache.

My front door stands before me where an older hand presses over the doorbell, probably a lady in her late 40s. There’s a gaudy ruby ring on her finger that I know from somewhere. My closed eyes tense up, urging my thoughts to see who it belongs to. It’s a woman with sapphire eyes, crow’s feet, a bit of Satin Rose lipstick on her upper tooth. Mrs. Fletcher, my neighbor down the street.

I shake my head at my uncontrollable imagination. Sometimes I don’t know why I think up the things I do. I try and push the vision away but to no avail. Instead, it returns to face my white door and looms over the windows. Rather than a reflection of my perky neighbor, a grey creature stands there with blackened lips and florescent blue eyes. I see the snarl of fangs, the torn skin around her neck, the death glare in her eyes. She’s coming for me. My heart beats faster as my imagination grows darker. She’s coming to kill me.

“Gail,” Katie asks more urgently, bringing me from my sinister thoughts. I awaken quickly, reluctant and thankful at the same time.

“Yeah,” I ask removing one headphone. I shake myself awake and breathe in deeply. “What’s up?”

“Your doorbell,” she sighs. “Someone’s interrupting our sun kissing.”

Another ding-dong rings through the screen door forcing me to get up and pull on my orange patterned sundress over my damp swimsuit. Katie adjusts her Aviators and returns to napping in the pool water while I walk through the freezing house. There’s a major temperature change. Sun block wafts behind me, leaving a trail of tanned teenager perfume. My flip flops slapping the tiles halt as I open up my front door. And guess who’s there…

“Hey, Mrs. Fletcher,” I greet my neighbor warily. Her warm smile beams back at me, not looking demonic whatsoever. In fact, she is her normal, disturbing, head-of-the-neighborhood-watch happy. There’s still a bit of lipstick stuck to her teeth but at least they’re not sharp. Mrs. Fletcher waves hello in her yellow sleeveless button up and khaki shorts. These weird visions really need to stop.

“Please dear, call me Anna. Hello to you too Miss Abigail,” she answers in a cheery voice. Her neck cranes over my head to check out my house even as I close the door more. I clear my throat which doesn’t seem to faze her anyway. “Just wanted to stop by and see how things were.”

“Things are fine.” After a pause, I reinforce ‘my thanks for stopping by’ smile with, “We’re good.”

“Well that’s nice dear.” Another weird moment passes as she fiddles with the hem of her top, pulling it down to fit properly. “I don’t know if you saw this morning but—”

“No, no. I saw,” I say, finally interested. “What happened over there?”

“Just a small fire. My husband called 911 even after it was out,” explains Anna. I swear she’s almost pleased about it. My lips stay shut from not knowing how to answer. A minute of an awkward quietness fills the air again and all the while Mrs. Fletcher keeps her face woven into a smile. “Oh well,” my neighbor says breaking the silence.

In sync with each other, we turn our gaze towards her house which stands in the sun, paling her American flag even more.  Her home is so cookie-cutter, I’m pretty sure the 50s threw up on it and the residents within, forever labeling them as wannabe Suburbans.

“That husband was a curious one,” Anna mumbles to herself.

Fixing my sundress, she stares me down again. Her blue eyes come across brighter today and the edges of her hardcore grin twitches the side of her face. That is the signal for me to end our unusual conversation. I mutter my goodbye and recede back into the house.

“Actually,” she stops me as I’m closing the door. Her hand pushes hard against the painted wood, opening it and keeping me in full sight. “I came over here wondering if you could take care of our garden while we’re away. Me and Mr. Fletcher, we’re going away for a long while and I need someone to keep the blasted thing hydrated.”

“Sure I can. Let me just—”

“If you’d care to walk with me down the street,” she says hurriedly. “I’ll show you what you need to do. It’ll take a second, I promise.”

My head turns around and I glance at my backyard. Even though I can’t see Katie, I know she’d be fine on her own for ten minutes. I agree to follow, closing the door behind me and making the lock snap in place. It doesn’t take us more than a moment before we’re three doors down and across the street entering the gate on the side of her home.

Large planters border the house each containing various vegetables and herbs. The aroma of crisp parsley has me pause. It’s definitely one to clear up the sinuses. A bunch of other plants I’m not sure of are also growing in abundance. Their leaves are peculiar but I have no time to ponder since Anna ushers me forward.

I’m guided to the very green backyard where little white butterflies dance along the forsythia bushes and bird baths. Everything is set in its proper place and there are no weeds to be found. Even the ivy on the border of Mr. Maley’s yard is cut directly by the wire fence. My neighbor points out the hose and the watering can. Beside that I see a small box filled with blue plant food. This lady is very particular with her garden.

“Veggies are on the side,” she says, snapping her fingers. “Flowers are there.”

Mrs. Fletcher hurries to the house and pulls the glass door open. She gestures me in but I pause. Something doesn’t feel right.

“I actually have my friend over,” I say trying to excuse myself. “I should be—”

“Yes, yes dear,” Anna interrupts again. There is something wrong though she’s acting perfectly normal. She strains to replace the smile on her face which makes it hard to keep one on mine. “I only need to show you where I keep the plant food. It’ll be quick.”

Pointing to the box by the hose uncertainly, she waves me off and continues to motion me inside. As uneasy as I feel, it’s still Mrs. Fletcher. She’s the nicest woman anyone would meet so why would I have anything to fear? I step into her air conditioned house and watch as she slides the glass door closed behind her.

It’s exceptionally clean in here and every surface shining from disinfectant spray smells of artificial lemons. Apple decorations line the walls of the kitchen as well as sky blue striped wallpaper. If I didn’t know better, I’d say no one ever cooks here. Or worse, that no one lives here.

“This way,” Mrs. Fletcher directs, showing me what seems to be the basement door. I wait for her to open it herself, feeling very awkward for being in her house. “Come on downstairs,” she teases. “I don’t bite.”

The dark looms before me. Mrs. Fletcher isn’t turning on any light switch but I’m supposed to go down? Creepy. I sigh and follow her to the basement anyway.

The stranger sneaking up behind us doesn’t let me.

I cry out as nails dig into the skin between my shoulder blades, grabbing my sundress. The next thing I know, I’m pulled back. My attacker almost tears my swimsuit underneath in the process. Mrs. Fletcher’s hardwood kitchen floor catches my body and knocks the wind painfully out of me. I was right about not coming in here.

“Gail,” I hear him call to me. My lungs strain to breathe properly but my vision sees him fine. “Get out of here.”

Trevor. Trevor! Out of nowhere, the infuriating boy is standing there with a clear thermos filled with strange neon purple goo. The surprised Mrs. Fletcher turns around on the stairs with a raging expression. I almost scream from shock but I can only manage a hoarse gasp. What is his problem?! I glance back at my neighbor, ready to apologize. I’ve never seen her angry before. By the looks of her crinkling cheeks, I don’t think her face is used to it either.

“Witch,” she yells at him. Her eyes narrow as she slinks back into a defensive stance. Trevor just winks as he unscrews the cap of the thermos.

“You know it,” he says proudly.

Even if I were able to able to breathe, I’d lose my ability to speak from disbelief. My arms scramble back as Trevor throws the weird goo at Mrs. Fletcher. His first shot misses but he still makes her loose balance. To keep from plummeting down the steps, she places her hand on the part of the wall where the purple gunk stuck. Anna shrieks as a red vapor puffs off of her searing fingers.

“Why you little verm—!”

Mrs. Fletcher stops as Trevor’s second attempt of throwing the goo makes contact with the majority of her skin. My body cringes at the sizzle before I’m able to see what’s really happening. Red smoke ruptures through the air as Mrs. Fletcher’s peachy flesh peels off, replacing itself with the ghastly grey tone I saw earlier in my mind. The fangs sprout from her gums, the burn from her neck appears. I blink my eyes, hoping this is all a nightmare. I did not sign up for this.

“Gotcha,” Trevor shouts at her. My hands climb the wall behind me as I stand. Almost buckling under my weight, I don’t know how I’m able keep to my feet. Trevor wraps his arm around my waist as I struggle to do anything and drags me out of the house. We leave through the back door as my neighbor writhes at her basement staircase, screaming curses and other profanities.

This can’t be happening, I think to myself. My strange ‘savior’ stares back at me as I plant my feet on in the grass outside. I tighten my lips wondering which question to ask him first. What the hell is going on?! Just… what?

“No time to explain,” he urgently shouts. I don’t take another step towards the guy who is way too relaxed to have seen what just happened. “Come on. We have to go!”

Trevor pulls on my wrist but I’m stopped and thrown back again. My head hits the ground and I stare up to meet the bright blue eyes of the woman standing above me. That’s not Mrs. Fletcher anymore. I scream bloody murder, only a taste of the true terror I feel. Still wearing the purple stained button up, she’s nothing I’ve ever known my neighbor to be.

“You’re not going anywhere, Doll,” the creature tells me in a husky voice. Her hands reach for my dreads and start pulling me back in the house. My hair feels it’s being ripped from my skull. “Get in here!”

I scream in protest but before I’m near the doorway, Trevor tackles her to the ground. My hair is released and I crawl away, staring at the bizarre scene.

There’s no telling which is angrier, the creature woman or Trevor. One on top of the other they wrestle, each aiming for the other’s jugular. Finally, Trevor pins her down long enough to grab the watering hose and wrap it around the Mrs. Fletcher’s throat. I can’t do anything but watch.

“Why don’t you go back to hell,” Trevor shouts with clear effort in his voice. The woman’s eyes start bulging out of their sockets making me scream for him to stop. I’m ignored and frozen in fear, staring at the struggle. Her arms grab for the green tube over the scars on her neck but she quickly realizes that won’t work. I search around for anything to help but I only see planters and clay pots.

With some ridiculous strength that isn’t humanly possible, the creature throws Trevor above her head and slams him into the ground. A twisted smile on her face breaks apart as she grows her nails into claws. “I’ll go,” she cackles manically. “As long as you come with me. Deal?”

With no way of getting up from her overbearing strength, Trevor is trapped. My hands lunge for the hose, doing the one thing I can do. I can’t let her kill him.

“Urghh!” The creature woman grunts huskily as the hose jerks her neck backward. She falls hard on her side, dazed just long enough for me to grab the nearest pot. It’s smashed down with a cry of my own, breaking it open and scattering bits of clay and clumps of soil everywhere. Mrs. Fletcher falls motionless though apparently it’s not enough. Trevor quickly crawls over from the side of the sunny yard, stabbing the creature in the heart with a stake engraved with symbols I’ve never seen. She twitches a while before going limp. No blood, no scream. I drop to my knees shaking.

“A wooden stake,” I mumble softly. My eyes can’t move away from the thick chunk of wood sprouting from her chest. Trevor on the other hand smiles as he scratches at his neck, panting like a mad man. This isn’t bothering him. After a long silence between both of us where I’m wheezing with horror, he starts laughing loudly.

“I think that went well,” he teases. “Don’t you?”

I stare back at him, ready to scream a whole slur of swears. He is clinically insane. He has to be.

“We just killed the head of the neighborhood watch,” I shout without realizing the volume of my voice. Trevor stands up and shushes me. Obeying only because I can’t think of anything else to do, I take his outstretched hand. My lip quivers as we round the side of the house and leave her body lying there. “Who are you?”

My strange classmate smirks and leads me to a dark blue van he had parked out front. After holding the car door open and telling me to get in, I step back finally aware enough to oppose him.

“I was told to never to get in a van with strangers,” I challenge him. “Especially if they’re old. Didn’t you say you were 21? Plus you just killed my neighbor. So…”

“I saved your life and you still don’t trust me,” he yells at me more than asking. “Ungrateful little…” He grabs my arms and shoves me into the passenger’s seat. Knowing he has a very good point, I buckle up and fix my dress and swimsuit. This morning my guess was absolutely right: today is a very, very special day.

.

It doesn’t take long for Trevor to get us to our mysterious destination. Along the way he ignores my every question, telling me I’d best wait for the Emerald. It’s a silent ride until he turns on the music. Even then it is eerily quiet. After the car takes its last turn, we pull up to an estate that looks more like an aged museum than a home.

White paint rots away from the edges of the roof where ornate flowers and swirls are carved. Much of what’s left of the paint is hidden by thick layers ivy gripping to the walls desperately for their life. The windows of the place are large enough where I can see bookcases inside. They’re the only things I can make out; the rest is too dimly lit or covered by green vines. My eyes trail through the overgrown grass and the plentiful vegetation. It’s incredible.

“Whoa,” I manage to utter. Though it’s a massive decaying house, it’s still fit for royalty. “Where are we?”

We ease down the long driveway and Trevor parks the van by the side of the house. I gawk out the window, not sure I’m worthy of even being here.

“Don’t talk unless the Emerald tells you to,” Trevor commands me. “If she wants to know something, she’ll get it from your thoughts.”

I scrunch my nose at being told what to do. Should I address her as ‘your majesty’ too?

“No, you may not call her that.”

My lips tighten and I stay silent. How is it he always knows what I’m thinking? I jump down from my seat, slamming the door as he meets me. Running away from here isn’t an option since he’d know if I’ll attempt it before I would.

We follow the stone path, taking the front stairs through white marble columns wrapped at the base in ivy. At the door, Trevor inserts a large key with a silver leaf carved at the end. There’s an audible click and he thrusts the door open. My hands shake but I try to remember my personal rules: never let anyone see how much things can affect me. My arms cross pretending to be cold when in reality I hardly have any strength in my steps. Somehow my feet manage to get through the door. Once I’m inside, my jaw drops further.

The place is like another world.

As much as there is greenery outside, it is more than matched on the inside. Shrubs, flowers, rose bushes and minute statues of baby faced cherubs run along the walls of the house lit by UV lamps on the ceiling. The air feels damp but there is no mildew sensation, only the lively scent of various plants. Exotic butterflies dance from petal to petal and fairy lights twinkle in between the hanging vines above. There’s even a hum of crickets infused with the splashing of a small waterfall. Trevor watches me as I find a hole in the floor to my left. I hurry past the main staircase over towards it, watching water flow down from the rocks that surround it. It’s a pond. This house has a mini pond inside.

“What is this place,” I ask Trevor breathlessly. There is no reply. My legs kneel to let me gaze down at the water, watching my mirrored image gape back at me. A frog croaks by the edge of the small pond watching my every move. My eyes turn back to the water but now the reflection of a graveyard materializes in the ripples. I inhale sharply as I back away, transfixed by the enchantment of this mansion. “Trevor? Where the hell am I?”

Again he doesn’t answer. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps tap down the marble staircase I’ve just passed by. I stare at the mesmerizing room a bit longer before my eyes turn to see why Trevor has fallen silent. But as I see her, I know exactly why.

Graceful. Alluring. Royal. There is no end to the beauty and perfection that the woman is. Her sweeping pale blonde hair hangs past her waist. It lies over her gown made of the richest material I have ever seen. A large green stone hangs around her throat and I realize this woman can only be one thing. I glance back to Trevor bowing and follow his motions before she speaks through her shimmering pale lips.

“Welcome Abigail Hendrix,” the Emerald greets. “We’ve been expecting you.”