A Hundred Years

“One foot in front of the other,” Nelly muttered to herself. She had walked this hallway billions of times in her life. Over the years she had grown acquainted with every monster, every shadow, every flickering movement in the corner of her eye, but tonight it felt unfamiliar. This unknown presence was new and unwelcome.

Everything was drenched with inky darkness and her eyes strained to see ahead of her. She clutched the bottom of her nightie, drying her clammy hands against the silky material. A noise shattered the still midnight air like glass. Nelly’s hands flew to her mouth to catch the gasp that was worming its way up her dry throat. Fearful tears spilled down her cheeks. Had the noise come from the downstairs kitchen? She clung to the familiar shadows, hoping that they would remember her.

The wooden floors were ice against the soles of Nelly’s feet, but she hardly noticed. The sound of the dishes falling was still ringing in her ears. As she reached the top of the staircase, her thoughts looped round in her brain like a broken carousel that wouldn’t stop turning. She half hoped it was just one of the ghosts that roamed her childhood home. She hadn’t seen any of the lost souls since her eighteenth birthday and she’d been so lonely, just her in such a large house.

Nelly wrapped her shaking fingers around the banister and started the descent down the steps. Multiple whispers swam in the air, melting into one incoherent mumble. She didn’t gasp this time. Instead, she stopped moving altogether. She held her breath, trying to make sense of the voices. Unable to decipher anything amongst the jumble of words, Nelly sprinted down the stairs, light on her feet. She was no longer scared, certain the ghosts from her childhood had come back. Whatever she found in the kitchen would be nothing compared to them.

She breezed through the foyer and stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. Everything was where it’d been for hundreds of years. The moonlight cast milky rays through the window, washing the windowsill and sink in a chalky glow. Outside, the rose bushes that lined the drive stood still, as if on guard. Nelly’s eyes glided over the room, trying to catch something out. Her heart sank at the possibility that it was nothing. Her mother would’ve said it was her imagination. Her brothers would more than likely be laughing at her. She was glad she’d never see them again.

Just as the ghost of a smile began to tug at Nelly’s lips, something caught her eye. She snapped her head to the side and saw a silhouette disappear into the edge of the light. Someone really was in the house. Her house. Familiar anger seared through her veins like a forest fire, and a slither of hope burned her heart. She debated running in the direction she’d seen it, but no, she had to be smarter than that.

“What did you do before?” She asked herself. “Ah, of course.”

She began sifting through the drawers. Where was the knife? It should be right where she left it before…

A realisation shot through Nelly’s mind. If it wasn’t in the drawer, then it must have been taken. At this, her anger multiplied, breeding like a virus. She slammed the drawer shut, the bang echoing around the tall ceilings. She licked her lips. What to do next? She’d never done this without her knife before.

“Come on,” Nelly begged into the emptiness. “I didn’t mean to grow up- I sort of wish I hadn’t. I’m sorry, okay?” Her voice quivered; the whispers had gone.

She blinked back her tears, “What else do I have to do? What more could I possibly do for you?” She choked. Nelly shook her head, sniffing and adjusting her posture.

She stormed out of the kitchen, back into the foyer. She stood in there. No movement. Suffocating Silence. She held her hands high in front of her, a flame flickered on a candle that she cupped delicately. She didn’t need the light. Or the heat. No, she didn’t need the heat.

Her heart pounded in her hollow chest. A thick layer of cold sweat covered her pale skin. Nelly shivered, wishing that the warmth from the candle could warm her up. And there she waited. All night. The early morning hours dragged by, indicated by the ticking on the grandfather clock- it hadn’t worked in hundreds of years, but Nelly still heard the hands moving.

Nelly wasn’t worried about the morning light illuminating her hiding spot. The sun never rose here.

Her eyes burned as she stared at the flame. The wax dripped down her wrists, mirroring the tears that hadn’t stopped streaming down her narrow face.

The only whispers that had returned were Nelly’s. She spoke to herself all night, muttering frantically to fill the deafening silence.

The tortured hands grabbed and scraped at the passing seconds on the clock. Minutes. Eventually, hours. Time was slipping away and never quite catching up. Each number that passed by on the grandfather clock reminded Nelly of the memories that had sunk into the murky depths of a lost age. It was easy for her to forget that new memories were ever within reach, when the constant reminder of how fast they can abandon her was still ringing in her ears.

She began to accept that she was alone. As she had always been. Haunting sobs wracked her skeletal frame, disrupting the very foundation of the house. She shook. The house shook. The candle fell from her bony fingertips. Nelly hit the ground before the candle did. She lay on the dusty carpet- where no one had walked in a hundred years and stared at the halls she would never walk again. She watched as the flames consumed everything she had ever known. They destroyed the darkness that had nurtured her, taking her sins with it.