10 - Echo - 11 Broken

10 - Echo

An Echo,

The constant ticking of something repeating,

Bang, Bang, Bang,

Drip, Drip drip.

The motion circling back around,

Newton’s Cradle swishing back and forth.

An Echo,

Perhaps just an afterthought,

following the thing before,

a follower in the crowd.

The sounds caused by the reflection of waves,

arriving back in time.

The room echoes with the sound of its own screams.

Bouncing back around.

A parallel of that feeling found in an echo,

That has repeated after the original has finished,

just like a copycat.

A reminder of that thing that once now no more.

11 - Broken

When my grandmother died, I was rather lucky. It sounds heartless but when I young couple like me and my boyfriend were, looking for a house when your grandmothers old house becomes available, its pretty lucky. Both my parents lived together in a house they had lived in since they were 20 and weren’t about to give it up now, they were 60 years of age.

I didn’t really see my grandmother; I remember visiting her in the house when I was very small noticing that there were many hideaway places in corners but after I was a teenager, I lost interest. I was probably not the best person to inherit the house but as I was the only child and grandchild in the family there was little choice.

Apparently, she died while falling downstairs, that’s the thing that worries me about getting old, not being able to do simple tasks that I don’t even think about now.

My boyfriend and I was grateful, naturally but moving in took hard work from both my parents and the movers. The keys were dropped off and we were both alone to do whatever we wanted. I felt adult, alone with my partner in an old house, couples my age could only dream that were live somewhere like this.

“Let’s go explore!” I was two steps up on the wooden steps as he tugged me down gently reaching for a kiss.

“Hey, watch it! You know what happened on these stairs!” I joked touching his lips. “Come on, we’ve got time for that later, come up with me.”

He nodded and chased me up the large wooden spiral staircase, even to someone young and able bodied, the steps that twirled up filled me with a feeling of dizziness.

The rooms were mostly empty with the odd vintage cupboard in each room. Some of the rooms, wallpaper was ripped from the walls. The wooden floor was original and creaky just that balance of creepiness and beauty.

A second set of miniature spiral steps lead to a third floor only opened by a little door in the ceiling.

“The attic!” I said cried turning to my boyfriend on the middle step.

I pushed up with both arms, I was worried that the place would be dingy and dark, full of spiders and their webs but I was pleasantly surprised. I was greeted by light shinning through a window halfway up the walls. It was painted in a light blue which opened the entire floor up. The floorboards were dusty and muddy were muddy footprints had once been but I felt most welcome here.

The ceiling wasn’t too low either, my boyfriend could walk around happily without bashing his head on the wooden bars above. In the corner of the room, on a coat hanger sat an vintage wedding dress worn by my grandmother. It was now a faded cream colour but the lace and attention to detail looked beautiful against the sunlight.

“Look, my grandmothers wedding dress!”

He smiled searching around, touching decorations and boxes delicately blowing dust from the top.

He ran his fingers down an old vase. It was odd looking, nothing I’d seen before. It was the same colour as the walls with stripes of white in the centre. Right in the middle was an eyeball staring back as if it had its own personality.

“What do you think this was?” He wondered twirling it in his hands.

“Looks like a vase to me, but please to be careful...”

“Why? Is it some value to you or something?”

“It was my grandmothers…”

“But you said you didn’t even know her.”

“Yeah, but...”

He started rolling it around like it was a rolling pin.

SMASH.

“I told you! Look what you’ve done now!” I stormed out of the room pushing him as I fled, storming down the stairs and back onto the second corridor.

“It’s only chipped a bit!” He yelled from the attic. “Come on, come back!”

I didn’t. I know it seemed small, and the vase didn’t mean much to me, but it was a family object, even if it was only chipped, this was the first time he had betrayed my trust.

I chose one of the double bedrooms in the house which was nicely decorated in a light pink wallpaper with golden accents on the paper. I lay down on the unmade bed, only our one mattress from home was lying in the centre of the room.

I closed my eyes for what seemed like a few moments when the sound of a crash from along the corridor echoed around the room. I jumped up, thinking he had smashed yet another object of my grandmothers, ran across the corridor to see him lying on the third-floor staircase, his foot twisted.

“How did you do that?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

“You’ll be fine, only looks like a sprained ankle. What was you doing?”

“Nothing! I just came downstairs to find you and this happened.”

“Serves you right anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing...”

I knelt on the first step to inspect his injuries, carefully turning his foot as he cried in pain.

“I’ll get a wet cloth.”

I soon came back, cloth in my hand which was slightly damp, patting the bruise on his ankle.

“That should help.”

“You know, strange thing is, maybe it’s me reading into it too much, but that chip on the vase, it seems to be in the place my ankle would be...”

“What? You think it’s like a voodoo vase or something?” I joked.

“Don’t laugh!” He smirked back.

I paused, perhaps he wasn’t as mad as he thought. I gave him the cloth and raced up the stairs back into the attic. There on its side was the strange eyed vase. As I walked closer and picked it up slowly looking at the bottom right were an ankle would be, there was a chip just as he said.

I stared deeply into the eyes gaze.

“You okay up there? I think I might need your help getting up...” I heard him mummer.

Perhaps it was the hypnosis from the eye staring back at me like it was a living creature or maybe I was still angry, but whatever possessed me to do so, I felt my hand leaving go of the poetry watching in slow motion as the vase collapsed to the ground smashing into thousands of pieces.

“What was that?” He cried from below.

I rushed around the broken poetry and rushed downstairs, just as I left him, he was sat on the second step, his back to me, his foot twisted. I guessed it was both our insane imagination.

“Sorry, I was just - “

He turned his head towards me and gasped, as I stared at myself, my body was smashing into tiny little pieces. The last thing I saw was the horrified look of my boyfriend staring up at me.