Page 15 of Firethorne
Why was I like this?
But I didn’t have the energy to argue with him, so we finished our breakfast in silence before I asked, “Where do I go this morning? Who do I report to?”
“Mrs Richardson is taking you under her wing. She’s the housekeeper. But don’t worry so much, Maya. Everything will be fine. Today is the start of a new life for us.”
I ignored him, standing from the table and walking over to the kitchen area to rinse my plate and put it in the sink, ready to wash. Then, I told my father, “I’m just gonna get some fresh air before starting this new life of ours.”
“A new chapter,” he announced, smiling as I headed for the door.
I stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind me. Breathing deeply, I closed my eyes and savoured the cool morning air. I loved how the crispness of it sparked in my lungs, making me feel alive. The mellow breeze grazed my skin, kissing my face and gently fanning my hair. A calmness washed over me, and slowly, I opened my eyes. But as I glanced down, something caught my eye on the step of the porch.
I took a few steps forward to get a closer look, and then... the calmness that I’d been revelling in only moments ago was ripped away in an instant when I saw what lay there. I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand in shock.
A rat.
A dead rat in a trap.
What the actual fuck?
I stared at it for a few seconds, feeling utter revulsion at the dead rodent lying at my feet, wondering whether to call my father to come out. But then, I noticed something white peeking out from underneath. Feeling sick, I kicked the trap lightly with my foot, grimacing at how the rat’s tail quivered as the trap moved. Then, I bent down, and trying to ignore what lay in the trap, trying to block it from my mind, I picked it up between my thumb and finger. My face screwed up as I lifted the trap in front of me and stood back up.
Tucked in the trap, beneath the dead rat, was a piece of paper. Tentatively, wincing in disgust, I pulled it out and unfolded it. It was a handwritten note and the black ink on the paper looked eerily familiar.
They’re all liars here.
I read the words over and over again.
They’re all liars here.
They’re all liars here.
My eyes scanned the text as if the words might change any minute and give me another clue, tell me who it was that was sending these warnings.
I swallowed, even though my throat had gone dry, the sensation like razor blades scoring into my skin. This was the same handwriting as the other note. The flecks and curls of the letters were exactly the same. This wasn’t a coincidence. Someone was following us. And I had to know who they were.
I pushed the note into the pocket of my black work trousers, and that’s when I felt it. The sensation of someone watching me. My head snapped up, eyes darting around the wooded area where our cabin was.
“Hello. Is anybody there?” I called out, but there was no response.
I waited, watching the trees like a hawk, expecting to see movement, and then I heard the crack of a branch. Without a second thought, I ran down the steps of the cabin, racing over to where I’d heard the sound.
“Who is that?” I cried a little louder, but again, there was no reply.
Then, I heard footsteps retreating, and my fear spiked, my heart beating out of my chest as I lurched forward, ready to follow them, chase them, catch them and find out what the fuck was going on.
“Who’s there? Do you think this is fucking funny?” I hollered as I charged through the woods, chasing after those footsteps, my anger rising as I tried to hunt them down.
I picked up speed, running and focusing on the crunching leaves and the clicking branches ahead.
I’ll catch you.
I’ll find you.
I’ll never give up.
I chanted in my mind as I ran and ran. My breaths were pants now as I pounded through the woods. The uneven ground beneath my feet made me stumble a few times, but I didn’t fall. I couldn’t. I was so determined to catch them.
And then, I emerged from the trees as the woodland turned to open land, and I stopped. My breaths were icy clouds as I breathed heavily and stared at the foreboding image of Firethorne Manor that stood before me in all its gothic glory.
