In the Flickering Lights

The lights flicked on yet one bulb seemed to have died and the other had a foot in the grave because it flickered, casting the world in a strange mixture of moonlight and brilliant shadows. Distantly, the sound of the Grandfather clock striking thirteen could be heard.

Someone was standing in the doorway. From under the bed Ella couldn't see much, leather oxfords and the bottom of a pair of slacks. She looks to James, lying next to her, but he only has eyes for the two shoes making their way across the dark-stained, wood floorboards. Ella smothers the sound of her breathing with a hand over her mouth and clings to James' hand.

The shoes take a slow step, then another, seemingly uncaring of the floorboards moaning under them. They move to the closet which, James and Ella having rushed to get under the bed, hasn't been fully closed. Ella's breath catches in her throat. The shoes shift, as if turning to consider the room—under the bed, Ella freezes. Are they about to be caught?—before shutting the closet and turning on their heel to leave. Ella lets a breath past her lips, unheard. The flickering light is turned off, the door shuts softly and they are alone.

The two of them lay there for many moments, savouring the silence and trying to get trembling hands under control. Ella rubs at her nose trying to stifle the urge to sneeze and glances at James from the corner of her eye. He has haltingly climbed out from under the bed and she follows.

Ella glances wearily around the room, seemingly expecting something to pop out of a shadowed corner. "What the hell was that?"

James' stare still hasn't left the door. "You shouldn't have come." He eventually whispers.

Ella grabs his arm and turns him to face her. She has come for answers and by God, she will get them. "James, what was that? Where's Emily?"

He finally looks her in the eye. "You shouldn't have come," he snarls, "And you nearly just got us caught!"

"Where is Emily?" Ella demands, staring straight into James' eyes. She doesn't understand what's happening. Who had just been in the room with them? Why did they scare James so much? Where is Emily? Why won't James just-

"She's gone."

Ella stops. "What do you mean 'she's gone'?"

His lips twist. "Emily's gone, she's dead, deceased, six-feet-under, pushing up daisies-" James stops when he sees the look on Ella's face. "Oh God, I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I just- that's my little sister and now she's-" He slumps next to the bed, head in his hands, shoulders shaking.

Ella sits down next to James, shoulder to shoulder, and cries with him.

...

"What happened?" Ella sniffs and wipes at her cheeks. "Who did this? When? Why didn't you tell me- tell anyone sooner?"

James' eyes are dead as they look down at her. He stands, taking Ella's hand, and drags her up. He stares into her eyes, as if looking for an answer in her. In an obscure part of her mind, she sees him as a lost sailor in a storm, looking for a lighthouse which should be distant but could be dangerously closer than it should. The idea scares her. Ella doesn't know what answer he finds but he grips her hand and they head for the door.

"Where are we going?" She asks.

"To see Emily."

Ella stumbles. Her heart in her throat and tears frozen on her face, she numbly trails after James. Cautiously peering out from the door, he deems it safe to venture out. She had never been scared in this house before. But now in the dubious light of the fireplace in the lounge, every shadow twists before Ella's eyes. She flinches hard at the sound of a snap. Her eyes darting. A window in the lounge room is open, bringing with it the sound of rain. The air damp, the curtain flicks again, drawing her attention. She sighs and rubs at her eyes.