Her Romanian Beast

One



    “What do you think baby girl? Cool or what?”

    “Or what.” I said back to my dad as I looked around the grand foyer.

    She sighed as she hitched her backpack higher up on her shoulder. It wasn’t her idea for her dad to pack them up and leave all she knew. Sure, she didn’t have friends. That everyone thought she was weird. But none of that means he could just drag her out here.

    Where is here?

    Romania. The home to myths and legends. The land filled with mountains. I will admit that the journey here was spectacular, though my dad had to ruin it by pointing out things for me. I have eyes and can see without someone annoyingly drawing your attention all over the place.

    My dad turned to me and frowned. “Come on. We’re in Romania in a frigging castle. We own this place!”

    Yeah. He found this place online and couldn’t believe the price. For the same amount he’d pay for a normal two story house with two bedrooms, he got an entire castle with hundreds of rooms. I still say there was a reason the village was so keen to sell it to anyone.

    I’ve had my suspicions when the villagers had looked at us funny in town. They had looked us over, me in particular and then we were dismissed. I heard one guy say that the world will be better without another American around.

    “Now don’t go too far. There are too many rooms and you could get lost.” My dad said to the back of my head as I touched the railing to the stairs.

    “Yeah dad.” I said lamely as I started up the stairs. “Whatever.” I said under my breathe.

    I ascended and looked down at the grand foyer. The stone stairs curving away from me on either side. All of it was both beautiful with elegant carvings and also tarnish with dirt and grim. I crouched and took one of my shirts out of my bag. I scrubbed and found that there were images of roses twisting and blooming around the railing.

    Rising as I tried to shake off the eerie feeling, I wandered into the closest room on the right side from the stairs. I had to push the door open as there were books against the door. The room looked to be a study. Chaise chairs flanked the great fireplace. A flower arrangement that had wilted long ago still sat on the mantle that had more rose carvings. There were books in piles and not on the bookcases that were in here. Like someone had gone through but stopped most of the way through the task.

    I looked at the piles and they were organized. There were piles clustered together for each of the different subjects. Some on folklore. Some on science. So many different piles.

    I walked over to one of the chaises and lifted the sheet that was draped over it. I coughed and sneezed as dust filled the air. I had to wave a hand to shift the dust away from me.

    The chaise was so elegant. Royal as if it was from a time when royalty actually did live here. The fabric was a bit worn and dirty looking. But other than that, it looked nearly new. The pattern being that of cream, sage, and gold. The wood you could see was carved delicately with more roses.

    I found it odd that the whole castle so far had a rose theme everywhere. My hand went to my side as my heart clenched. I turned away from the images of roses and sat down on the ground with my back against the chaise.

    “Calista?!” I heard my dad shout from the stairs.

    “I-in here!” My voice shook as I tried to steady my breathing. My body was trembling a bit.

    He came in and then he was over to me. “You okay?”

    I shook my head. “There are roses everywhere.”

    He pulled me to him and rested my head on his shoulder. “You’re just tired. We had a long trip.” He helped me up and out the door. “Let’s find you your room so you can take a nap.”

    We searched for a little before we found a large bedroom. Maybe it was one of the guest rooms, but at the moment I didn’t care. I was just getting tired.

    My dad let me lean against the post of the four poster bed as he stripped the sheet off the bed. “I’ll go get the box with clean sheets in it right quick.”

    I nodded. “I’ll wait here.” He kissed my forehead as he passed.

    The room was beautiful though a bit dusty. I glanced over at the fireplace and saw that it was waiting to be lit. I hated fire. It was good for warmth, yet it could be destructive too.

    My father came back in with a box in hand. He folded the corners of the bed to the center of the flat sheet draped over the bed. He was trying to minimize the dust. I helped against his protests.

    After I helped my dad place a clean flat sheet, I laid down on the bed. My dad pulled a blanket out and draped it over me. He bent down and kissed my forehead before he left. I sighed in defeat as I closed my eyes and prayed not to remember the fire, but my prayers weren’t answered.

~~~

    It was a normal day in early December as it snowed outside. Dad was stuck in his office for a little longer waiting for the roads to clear so he could come home. Mom and I didn’t mind. We were busy decorating for Christmas.

    The tree already standing tall with lights on it and a few decorations. The mantle above the fireplace adorned with stockings and garland. A nutcracker on the corner ready to be of use. An angel still in the box for dad to put on top of the Christmas tree nestled in tissue paper.

    I had just stirred the fire in the fireplace when a crash came. Men dressed in black broken into our home. My mom tried to kick them and hit them as they grabbed her. I did the same thing when they came after me. The grate for the fireplace not being placed back.

    In the mist of everything, I hit one of the guys and he stumbled back knocking the tree over. The tree fell towards the fire. Ornaments smashing and falling off the tree. The tree knocking a log partially off. The tree caught fire as we struggled.

    When the men realized what just happened, they threw us to the ground hard and bolting out the door. The room quickly lit up as the decoration boxes caught. My mom and I weren’t so lucky as the men. Before we could get out of the room, the fire had cut off our escape.

    The smoke made us cough and choke as we tried to get out. But it was too difficult. My mom fell to the ground first choking on the thick smoke. I had stumbled and fell to the ground.

    A metal ornament of a rose that had been heated by the roaring and raging fire was what I landed on. It seared my back just over a tattoo of a rose I had done rebelliously that past summer. It represented my mom.

    I lost conscious because of the pain and the smoke. But I was the lucky one. I was rescued in time before the smoke could kill me. My mom wasn’t so lucky. She had died that night. Suffocated by the smoke.

    I was in the hospital with third degree burns on my side that went toward my back because of the ornament. Now it was a constant remind in its snarling twisted colored skin of how my mother had died almost a year ago.