Sunday, April 18, 2010

The rain finally stopped, replaced by sunshine, the wind still blew making the air bitter. Sara sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and crawled out of bed. The floor was cold; she hesitated before reaching under the bed for her slippers, the memory of the woman in the mirror still fresh in her head. She wanted more than anything to curl up and go back to sleep, but coffee would have to do. Max stood up, yawned, stretched and slunk down the stairs behind her.
“Good morning max.” She said to him, reaching out to pat him on his head. He
winced and ran out of the room.
“What has gotten into Him?” She asked aloud. Why hadn’t he barked last night…? She wondered, watching the old hound dog scurry back up the stairs. Was she the only one able to see the vision of the elderly woman standing at the foot of her bed?
She shook the thoughts out of her head. The smell of the coffee brewing made her hungry. There was nothing in the fridge and the cupboards were bare; now that the storm had quieted down, she could go to town and get her shopping done. Every trip to town seemed stranger than the last. She felt like she had moved to Stepford; her first impression of the place was all wrong.
It was as if everyone was harboring a deep dark secret. Sara knew no one was going to tell her, so she would have to find out on her own. Her curiosity got the best of her; she hurried through her shopping Howard helped her to her car, if any one would help her it would be him. He started to tell her something, before he had been rudely interrupted, the first time they had met maybe she could get him to tell her now.
She looked at him a weak smile on her face, and asked if he knew who lived up
on the hill before her. He looked around to make sure no one was watching, and told her to go to the town hall ...
“Look up the name April Rosen,” Howard whispered, with a look of worry on his face, and quickly hurried away. Since it was Sunday, her search would have to wait. For now, she wondered if anything in the secret room would tell her who April Rosen was.
A strange thought entered her head, as she gazed up and down the street. Sara realized she had not heard church bells ring. Where were the people dressed in their Sunday best bustling through the streets, or gathering in the café.
She took a long look around; a stinging anxiety came over her, and she hurried home. It took her a while to gather up the courage to go up into the tucked away room, but Sara was curious. So she braved the unknown.
The room was cold and dim; the only light came from a small window, covered by
a tattered lace curtain. There was an old dirty stained mattress lying beneath it. The strong stench of rotten wood and urine filled the air. It was dusty, and cobwebs clung to everything.
There were a few small children’s toys scattered about the floor. Resting next
to the mattress … was an exquisite doll. Her red bouncy curls covered her dirty porcelain
face; she was dressed in a torn, soiled red satin gown.
Sara picked her up, wiped the cobwebs from her body and wondered why such a lovely doll was up here. A small old school desk stood alone in a corner scattered … on the floor next to it appeared to be children’s schoolbooks, and scratched into the top of the wooden desk were the words
“April was here.”
Sara stared at the name on the desk, running her fingers across the etched words; she remembered what Howard had said to her. She reached down searched through the books on the floor, and found they were all the same … they were journals. On the inside cover of one of them written in crayon were the words “April’s diary” She flipped through the worn journal, and read.

July 1, 1836
“Momma put me up in this hot room again. I cannot study up here it is too hot. I dragged the mattres nder the window to lie on but there is not much air coming in. I am scared up here by myself.
I told momma I would be good in my room, but she was having guests and I could not attend, “I’ll be quiet as a mouse momma!” I promisd but she drug me up here anyway, and she locked the door behind her. I knew better than to cause a noise by banging on the door, if I did that she would leave me up here
way after dark. And I am afraid of what is in the dark up here.”
The scribbled words were hard to read, and some were misspelled, as if written by a child. Sara flipped through the pages, they covered years of April’s life some of it
Considerably painful. She could not believe what she had just read; the book was rather
large, and there were more of them on the floor.
She read for a while, but it was getting colder. She gathered up all the diaries, along with the picturesque dolly, and went downstairs. Each book had been carefully dated on their inside covers, so with max at her feet, with the fireplace roaring, Sara sat in her chair, put the books in order, and began reading.
April 1 1835
To my darling April on her fifth birthday. All my love daddy. The night of dark, the day so light they try to meet with all their might. He says to thee there is no doubt she is the one he cannot live with
out. Again, it is they meet so brief to this there seems no relief. It happens from day to night it never ends dark comes to light.

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