The world faded to black.
When I woke, my head was pounding, and Ifelt weak, disoriented. The wardrobe lay on its side, the door on the bottomfallen open. When I looked up at the open cellar door, the light from upstairshurt my eyes, and made my head throb. As much as I hated the cellar, I almostwanted to stay there, in the cool darkness. But one glimpse of that wardrobewas all I needed.
Going up the stairs was an almostimpossible chore. When I reached the top of the stairs, the light was soblinding I had to shield my eyes.
I made my way into the back bedroom andrested there in familiar shadows, fading in and out of consciousness.
* * *
I woke after dark on Samhain, to thesound of breaking glass. Rising, I found my wedding picture on the floor, theglass shattered. I stepped on one of the shards and cut my foot, but though Ileft bloody footprints on the rotted floorboards, I felt no pain.
The smell of smoke hung heavy in thecold autumn air.
I stepped onto the decaying porch in mynightgown, looking at the peeling paint, the decaying steps, the dirty windows.All that remained of my prized gardens were a few dead, withered bushes.Nightshade climbed up the side of the house: the poisonous vine was the onlything still thriving. Most of the leaves had fallen by then. The trees looked bareand skeletal, like bony fingers reaching into the night sky.
The woods seemed unnaturally still andsilent. I heard no gulls, no wind. Even the sea was a rare, flat calm.
In the distance, I heard a familiarbark. I froze. “Lela?” I called.
I strained my ears to listen. Thedistant trailing sound of children’s voices carried through the air. Far below,the waves crashed against the rocks.
And then I heard Lela again. I ran intothe yard, looking around. But the dog was nowhere to be seen. I looked and sawa girl in a white dress and a boy in shorts running through the trees. Theymoved out of my sight, flitting into the woods, and were soon swallowed inthick shadow. Moments later, old Mr. Harrett trudged past, looking, as always,neither left nor right. I thought of calling to him, but he was rather senile,and would have been of little help.
I sensed it before I saw it.
On the trail that led to the shore, ashape was taking form in the darkness.
Analea.
She no longer looked pale, or ethereal,but flesh and blood. She moved towards me, her eyes fixed on my face, herstride quick and purposeful. Terror rose through me, an icy hand clenching myheart. I raced back towards the house. As I grabbed the doorknob, a searingpain shot up my arm. I snatched my hand back, shouting. Looking down, I couldalready see burn marks forming on my palm.
I glanced back. Analea was halfwayacross the yard. Behind her, a thick black fog was rolling in, draping theforest in shadow.
“We didn’t mean to start the fire!” Ishouted.
She kept coming.
I gritted my teeth, and, using my skirtas a buffer, opened the door. Once inside, I locked it behind me and backedaway from the door, moving further into the room.
Shadows and spiderwebs clustered ingloomy corners. As I stood there, the darkness in the room grew thicker. Ablack, pitch-like substance began to drip from the walls and ceiling, oozingacross the floor. Dark spores of mold covered the cabinets. Vines grew acrossthe dusty windows, blocking out the pallid moonlight. The swirling grey-blackmists thickened, enveloping the house in fog. I heard a creaking sound from thecellar that I knew was the wardrobe door opening.
And then I heard something behind me.
I turned slowly. Analea stood there, soclose I could feel the chill she emanated. As she moved closer, I felt a senseof the void, an endless black emptiness, a darkness that could swallow suns.Fear paralyzed me, leaving me unable to run or scream.
She reached out her hand, beckoning me,and I saw the scar on her wrist.
Somewhere in my soul, I felt a sickeningrealization take hold. I glanced down at my own wrist, upon which lay anidentical scar, which I’d gotten courtesy of a rusty nail in an old barn.Stunned, I looked at the pale dead thing standing before me. That was when Ifinally saw her face, and recognized her features as my own.
The world fell away from me then. Orperhaps, I fell away from the world.
The house decayed around me in a matterof seconds. The walls and ceilings blackened, and the windows cracked andshattered. Beams collapsed, and chunks of wood and plaster fell to the floor,raising huge clouds of dust. Then, with a massive rumble that shook the ground,it all blackened and crumbled to ash.
I looked into the face of the deadthing, and saw truth flickering like flames in her dark eyes. Visions andmemories rose through my thoughts, shapes taking form in the gloomy mists of mymind. The past came rushing back, and I felt the fires reaching for me oncemore.
We had joined the desperate stream ofcars fleeing the fire. But our attempts to escape the inferno had been blockedat every turn. Desperate, we drove back to the house. Marie wanted to take thetrail down to the shore, saying that we could get into the water if worst cameto worst. But I was afraid of the cliffs and the pounding waves, terrified thatI would fall and hurt the baby, or that the crashing surf would dash me againstthe rocks. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’d just learned about Jacob’s shipgoing down, and the shock was still raw and fresh. As the flames drew nearer,I’d told Marie to go on without me. As she ran down the trail, I saw the eerieorange glow in the sky, the dance of flames reflected on the water, the wall offire approaching. A huge fireball shot out over the ocean as I watched. I’dgrabbed Lela and gone down into the cellar, certain that the fire would passover us.
It hadn’t.
I coughed and
