Picture Perfect

Chapter 35

Stress-induced insomnia keeps Cora awake at night, and she finds herself sitting alone on the back deck of the massive Dalton home, idly swinging on the bench anchored to the overhanging awning. There's a crispness to the air tonight, chilling Cora's skin slightly, even through the woven fabric of her favorite cozy blanket. Stars twinkle in the navy sky like an ocean of scattered diamonds, accenting the glow of the moon in an incredibly aesthetically pleasing way; it almost looks like a brilliant painting, in Cora's opinion. Pulling her blanket tightly around herself, she stares blankly into the night. Her mind shuts down temporarily, suffocating her incessant thoughts and delivering a mental silence she hasn't known for quite some time.

In the faint light spilling from the oversized living room window, her eyes follow the sway of the trees in the cool breeze, and she finds the movement to be almost hypnotizing, allowing herself to become lost within it. The wind picks up, a sudden gust slapping her right in the face, but Cora doesn't move; she hardly even notices the burst of coldness or the sting in her cheeks. The wind howls ferociously, ringing shrilly in her ears, drowning out the therapeutic sounds of the otherwise still night. The branches she's been watching whip and slice through the air, cracking and hissing as they collide with each other in a blurred flurry of leaves and twigs.

Soon, an eerie realization settles over Cora, igniting a fearful response from her body. Her skin pricks, goosebumps quickly rising on her arms, and the tiny baby hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Rather abruptly, she feels as if someone is watching her, a pair of eyes burning into her skin as if intent on penetrating right through her.

Her pulse accelerates, sending rapid vibrations humming through her body. Her head throbs with the unanticipated rush of blood, and her breathing hitches.

Is there someone here?

A shiver trickles down her spine, although Cora is almost certain it isn't due to the chilly weather. Utterly petrified, she scrambles from her seat, intent on bolting into the house in search of refuge. Her legs get tangled in the blanket as Cora haphazardly tries to discard it, disrupting her swift departure and sending her thudding to the deck floor. On her hands and knees, she remains as still as possible, refusing to let even a breath escape her until even she isn't sure if she's alive anymore. Cora hopes that the unexpected noise caused by her awkward and ill-timed clumsiness has scared away the intrusive spectator instead of alerting whoever is watching her to her drastically progressing level of fear. When several moments of silence pass, she slowly rises to her feet. Trying to remain as quiet as possible, she runs into the house, locking the door behind her. Hurrying to the bathroom, Cora barricades herself within it. The small, enclosed space offers a bit of comfort, slowly relieving the tension in her shoulders.

Once she's able to partially contain herself, she flips the switch by the door, flooding the once dark bathroom with light. Her eyes require a few moments to adjust to the sudden invasion of brightness, and Cora squeezes them shut for several seconds in the hope of accelerating the process. Keeping them squinted to protect them from the blaring light, she opens her eyes enough to find the handles of the faucet. Splashing some cold water on her face, Cora feels slightly soothed from her previous fright, somewhat relaxing at the realization that she's now safe. Her gaze raises from the basin to the mirror, and a scream rips violently from her lungs.

Written on the mirror in a crimson liquid that resembles blood are the words "It's time, Cora."

Cora's heart beats so aggressively in her chest that it's likely bruising her ribs from the inside, and the color seems to instantly drain from her face. Backing away from the spine-chilling warning, she presses her back firmly against the bathroom door. She stares at the message in utter shock, ghostly pale with wide eyes, and her mouth parted in a silent scream.

It's time? Time for what?

Struggling to understand the explanation behind the frightening words and their mysterious meaning, Cora remains unblinking as her thoughts race, frantically seeking answers to the questions screeching in her mind.

"Cora?" Andrew's tired voice calls from the hallway, his sudden appearance and unexpected close proximity to the bathroom increasing her heart rate, amplifying her already intense fright, and causing her rigid body to jump away from the door. "Are you okay in there? I heard you scream," he says, his tone clearly portraying the concern he feels for her.

The jiggling of the doorknob startles Cora, her body flinching harshly in reaction to the surprise. Gulping down a heavy breath, she forces herself to respond, hoping that her words will prevent Andrew from unlocking the door and entering the bathroom to check on her. "I-I'm fine," she stammers in reply, hoping that she sounds at least somewhat convincing; her voice doesn't seem very persuasive to her own ears. For good measure, she adds, "I just thought I saw a mouse."

Andrew retreats back to the bedroom with an amused chuckle, leaving Cora alone with the terrifying message on the mirror. Taking a deep breath, she scrubs her reflection clean of the thick, sticky red substance. When she's finally satisfied that the offending materials have been disposed of, Cora returns to the safety of Andrew's presence. Although it's entirely doubtful that she'll be getting any rest at all tonight, she crawls under the covers and snuggles deeply into the bed. Pressing her body against her husband's side and her face into his chest, she forces her eyes to close, shutting out the events of the night. Andrew wraps his arms around her, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

While she's far too disturbed to sleep, Cora undoubtedly doesn't want to be alone right now. And Andrew provides the sense of protection that she so desperately craves at this moment.