It should have been reassuring to see the illuminated sidewalk, and yet I couldn’t help but wonder why the light had failed to shine before.
Bulbs didn’t just start suddenly working again. Not unless you re-screwed them in.
I walked away from the door, heading into the kitchen and the table with its daunting pile of papers. Income records, a listing of our assets, everything I could find in the house. I was sorting them into piles for my lawyer in case she needed them.
The letter, with its offer to buy my grandma’s cottage, sat by itself. The third one I’d received at this point from a company called Airgeadsféar. Never heard of them and I wasn’t interested in selling. My lawyer said I didn’t have to reply. I just wished they’d stop sending me offers since I couldn’t stand seeing them. Not because they wanted to buy the place. It was weirder than that. The logo on the top corner, some strange symbol, made me uncomfortable. Stupid, I know. Yet every time I saw it, my skin crawled.
Snatching it from the table, I marched to the stove. It didn’t take much to ignite a corner, but I didn’t expect the noxious black smoke.
“Idiot!” Was I trying to set off the fire alarms? I tossed the sheet into the sink and turned on the water, which made things only worse. I opened a window before the alarm started chirping at me then leaned against the sink and closed my eyes.
What was wrong with me? Freaked out by a piece of paper. Why hadn’t I just tossed it or shredded it? Ignored it like an adult?
A cold breeze came through the open window.
I slammed it shut and glanced into the sink at the burnt mess. Wouldn’t you know that stupid symbol was the one thing to survive and taunt me?
I rammed it down the garbage disposal and then set it churning.
My phone rang as it gargled. Unknown number. Probably the same one that kept leaving me blank, staticky messages.
The garburator choked and whined. Then stopped.
Great. Just another broken thing in my life.
Thanks to my anxiety, I took a sleeping pill that night.
3
The forest snagged at me. The sharp tips of branches reached out to scratch bare arms. My breath came in hot, fast pants, the air so cold the mist fell like tiny icicles.
I had to escape. Move faster.
My legs ached. I saw no refuge. Nowhere to hide.
It came after me. I couldn’t have said what. I could hear it, though, taunting me even though there was no actual sound.
Run, run as fast as you can. If I catch you, I’ll—
It never finished the horrible rhyme. A chill rushed through me, tickling my skin, whispering icily on flesh.
“Leave me alone!” I yelled, stopping my mad dash to whirl and yell at nothing.
Little bitch. Little bitch. Let me in.
The awful words ended in laughter.
“Go away!”
Never. A hand fell onto my shoulder, digging in sharply, and I screamed—
It was the nudging of a cold wet nose that woke me.
“Grisou,” I grumbled, not entirely angry. The terror of the nightmare clung to me, and I was glad to be shed of it.
My kitten nudged me and let out a bossy growl. The kind that said I really should be up and paying attention. I’d really rather not. The sleeping pill I’d taken wanted me to shut my eyes.
“Mee! Uuu!” The cat uttered a strident cry, unlike any I’d heard.
As I opened my mouth to speak to him—never mind the folly of a cat understanding, let alone replying—I knew why he’d woken me. I smelled smoke.
My eyes popped fully open. Despite the slight odor of smoke, the fire alarms in the house were silent, making me wonder, was there truly a fire? Then again, could I say with certainty we’d even changed the batteries? It used to be we did it religiously when the clocks moved forward and sprang back. But then we invested in those that came with built-in ten-year batteries. How long ago?
Didn’t freaking matter. Alarm or not, smoke seeped into my room. A glance at my shadowy closed door made me wonder what I’d find on the other side. The smoke filling my room made wonder if I’d caused this. Me and that stupid letter I’d burned. But surely I’d doused it thoroughly?
I glanced to my nightstand. Three a.m. My phone sat in the charging dock, and yet I didn’t see the little green light indicating it was charging. Nor did I hear the hum of the ceiling fan.
A power outage and a fire? Or had the fire caused it? Let the experts figure it out. I snatched my phone, and there was only one number to call.
It took two rings before anyone answered. “Nine one one, what’s your emergency?”
“I think my house is on fire.”
“Think, ma’am?”
“There’s a lot of smoke in my room.”
“Ma’am, are you inside the house?”
“Yes.”
“Have you seen any flames?”
“Not exactly, but my bedroom is getting pretty smoky.” A part of me realized I should be more panicked, and yet I couldn’t help a surreal feeling. This wasn’t happening.
“Ma’am, you need to exit the premises if possible.” The voice remained calm.
“Okay, but what about the fire? I don’t even have a working hose.” It leaked something horrible, so I’d tossed it to the curb and not yet replaced it.
“I’ve already notified the fire department. You need to leave the premises.”
“Right. Should I bring anything?” I tried to remember the fire drill lessons I’d done with the kids.
There was a hint of impatience in the dispatcher’s next statement. “Ma’am, you can’t delay. Please get out if you can now.”
“What if I can’t?” I knew I was being dumb. Stalling. When I didn’t get a reply, only silence. I glanced at my cellphone. The screen showed no signal. How did that happen? I lived in suburbia, not the boonies.
“Seriously?” I grumbled. At least the fire trucks were on their way. “Come on, kitty. Let’s get out of here.”
Having no idea what I’d find, I took only a moment to put on a robe and slide my feet into slippers. A hand on the doorknob had me hissing in pain. Hot. So very hot. I wouldn’t get out that way.
I glanced to the window. Located on the second story, it wouldn’t be easy getting down to the ground. Still, I moved to the glass and struggled to open the sash. It had been a while since it had to creak its way up the track, and it protested every inch of the way. I welcomed the fresh air that immediately poured in.
There was no screen. Glancing out, I bit my lower lip. How would I get out? If I jumped, I’d break something for sure. My mattress would never fit through the opening. But maybe I could soften my landing?
Moving quickly, I yanked the comforter off the bed and tossed it outside. In the distance I could hear sirens. Would they get here in time?
The smoke in the room thickened, and I could have sworn I heard the crackling of flames. I quickly tossed pillows outside, only to stare in dismay as they flopped to the side.
It was then I had the brilliant idea to use a sheet and climb down. It worked in the movies. I yanked it from the bed and, given it wasn’t very long, knotted the flat sheet to the fitted one. Then I scrambled to tie it to the doorknob of my closet. There was nothing else nearby that would work.