Moving On - Chapter 1 - Loss

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  • Dedicated to Abby Lowrie, Jae Counter, and Tayler Rae Sumner
                                    

 

Disclaimer: This work is one of fiction, and is not meant to be taken as a true account. All events herein are fictional, and any resemblance to fact is mere coincidence.

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Ava got out of her Kia and walked towards the looming, imposing house that her best friend, Maya, had inherited from her parents. She jogged up the steps and went to the door. Somehwat annoyed, she knocked lightly on her best friend's door and listened. The knock seemed to linger in the cold, wet air, adding to the eerie feeling of emptiness. She shivered and looked around. "Maya?" She called out softly. Again, the sound hung in space, looming on the edge of memory.

She looked at the time. Nearly four thirty. This was the fifth time in a month that Maya hadn't shown up for their plans, and each time she had called in just minutes before and alerted Ava that she wouldn't be coming. But this time was different. There had been no phone call, no alert. Something was up.

Noticing the open windows, she briskly walked down the porch and looked inside of them. Not a thing stirred. The old house that Maya had inherited was really showing its age, with the classic too-big-to-be-of-use design encroaching upon Ava's visibility. She knocked on a window and waited. Maya was nowhere to be seen. She called out for her again. Still, nothing stirred. She began to get slightly angry.

"Fine. Have it your way," Ava thought as she walked back to the door and unlocked it using the key that Maya hid under a loose plank.

Inside, the house lay empty. Nothing moved, and the air was thick and uncharacteristically dry. It was only slightly warm, which was....odd. "Maya is cold-natured, she'd never willingly leave any place this cold for long..." Said Ava, who, though she was warm-natured, still enjoyed a warm room and shivered in the autumn chill. She looked to the dining room to the right, which was typically dominated by one or two house guests and a rather warm fire in the autumn...But now lay dormant and empty, the fire reduced to a few random coals.

The kitchen gave Ava no better luck; nothing was here, either. Not even the bread and jam, which Maya wholeheartedly loved, had been touched for a while. There was no sign of activity anywhere in the lower story. Ava began to feel quite unnerved, and walked to the stairs to check the upper story.

This story was dominated by its Victorian-style bedrooms and the one sunroom, which would typically be full of green plants and relaxing people but lay dead in the cold months. Ava knew well which bedroom Maya stayed in, so she walked towards it. As she climbed the stairs, however, the realization that she was alone in the house slowly began to dawn on her.

To attempt to shake the fear, Ava blinked hard and shook her head and walked faster. As she finally reached the top and looked out, she could see her car and the car of her friend in her driveway in the woods. She was at home...But where? 

Ava continued walking down the hall and was startled by a creak in the floor. "Extra strain...?" Thought Ava, looking around for anything not properly stowed and balanced. She saw nothing, and so continued on to her friend's room. The door was shut and locked. No note or her favorite "Do not disturb" doorknob hanger hung upon the door. It was bare. Almost frighteningly so.

She knocked. No answer. She called out for Maya; still no answer came. "Maya," she said at length, "if you don't open up in ten seconds, I will not hesitate to break down this door." She said, her voice raising and heart pounding. Still no answer came from the emptiness about the house. Bracing herself for the oncoming impact, Ava turned to her side before ramming the door. It took several times before the door opened.

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