𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞

𝟐𝟕. 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

I left the diary on the table in front of me and got up from my chair, I started pacing up and down in the library. She got away from him but she also left her home, the place she had grew up. How could she return if he was there, what if he had try to find her her? I just had to know what happened, I couldn't stop reading, not now that everything was getting clearer. Alice was in our room working again, so I had plenty of time to continue reading aunt's Grace diary.

" February 11 / 1957

My sleep was restless, I had nightmares almost all night but at least I was sleeping in a bed, with a pillow and most importantly free. Free from him. I took a good look around the room, it was very large. Exactly as I liked it, in any other occasion I would say that it was uncomfortably large but right now I needed space.

The floor was polished concrete, the walls white and the furniture old. Thick velvet curtains were hiding the long windows across the walls, just leaving a shy peak of the town beyond. Two small antique couches were standing on the opposite sides of a hand woven rug. The paintings and faded tapestry panels on the walls seemed to blink at me as I looked their way, like they were greeting me.

Alderton was nothing like Snowshill, life was far more expensive here. It was the perfect place for me but I couldn't stay for long. I needed to work somewhere and make some money. The woman was kind enough to let me stay on the hostel for free, only for some days, after all she had seen my condition last night.

Tomorrow, I needed to go out, walk around the village and meet the people but I couldn't, not in that mess. I had to find new clothes, and do something about the abusing pain in my head.

I even had my first bath without him. I entered the bathroom and closed the door behind me. As soon as I turned, there he was, behind me, I saw him through the mirror. I quickly opened the door and fell on the floor while trying to catch my breath. My heart was pounding like crazy and my pulse was for sure very high.

My eyes glimmered with watery tears and I felt as if the whole world was about to crumble. I sobbed and tears flooded like the waters rushing down from a waterfall. I slowly got up again and went into the bathroom, this time I kept the door open.

I stepped into the shower, toes flinching as they touched the chilled ceramic floor. My mind was in shreds. I would never be able to get him out of my mind. My eyes fell closed over and over, each time showing me the dark basement, his face, his hollow eyes. I bathed my skin lightly, taking careful notice not to touch the bruises that scattered my body.

The water turned red after coming in touch with the side of my head. The sensation of the steamy water calmed me, it took my mind off things. I leaned against the cold wall as my weak legs threatened to buckle. Everything was coming back to me all at once as tears threatened to fall from my eyes once again. I had to be strong.

My body felt as if I had been bruised in every corner, I touched the side of my head and blood immediately came out. The pain was rushing through my body like an igniting fire. My eyes squeezed closed as my face contorted. As soon as I finished showering I slumped into the bed, laid there for a little, reliving the moment of my escape over and over.

I loved the softness, the quiet, the sense of rest. I pressed my cheek to the cool, soft pillows. I only needed one day to relax, one day to just let everything go and recharge my batteries."

All of that felt surreal to me. Aunt Grace had a note attached to her recent entry but it was folded. Outside she had written "How". I was a little reluctant to open it at first but I had to, I had gone so far and I couldn't stop now. I unfolded the small yellow paper and started reading.

"How, I know how. I know how he did it. It is the flower, the purple flower that is growing near the Bridge. He mixes it with some of his medicines and gives it to the people. Whoever didn't want to take it, he just killed them himself. How do I know this? He brought a child while I was in his basement, she was barely alive but she told me that he forced her to take the medicine and she had refused, he almost chocked her to death. He is a monster."

Purple flower, the same flower on the cover of aunt's Grace diary. He even killed children, he murdered them. Who could have a heart that cold, a heart with no empathy and compassion. He was a man that could do almost anything, he didn't have any morals at all but why did he show mercy to aunt Grace, was it because of that child? What had happened with her child?

My mind raced to the drawing, on my Aunt's diary. A man, a woman and their son. Who were those people? A name was written above the drawing "Jones". Was it a surname? Did it mean something more?

I had to find out.

I sat there, my heart throbbing along with the music the wind made, and lost my sense of reality. Something clicked. It was in the cold temperature of the room, the buttery lighting. My mind sang, "You know this. You have heard it before" It couldn't be. The ache of familiarity was so powerful, I began second-guessing those simple facts. The world felt like my earliest memory, like a dream half-remembered. I had the queerest feeling that I had listened to that surname before.

Then that moment ended, and so did the odd feeling. Shaking my head, I mumbled, "Deja vu."