Dark Hedges

And Who is my Neighbour?

Tripp awoke abruptly, as if yanked out of his dreams by a violent, invisible hand. Struggling to adjust to the light, his eyes stayed closed for several seconds, vague images of the dream still orbiting his mind. Flashes of impossible things danced around the darkness, parading things that would never be. Pumpkins and lizards, dancing skulls, electric stripes of blue, splashes of blood that painted the skies crimson. Violet, Bianca, Teddy and a kiss never given, lurking in the black, patiently waiting for its chance.

He rubbed his eyes, a yawn escaping his mouth, the very last trace of a dream that slowly faded away. This was the fourth night in a row in which he had no proper rest and the burden was beginning to take a toll on him. With classes scheduled to resume the following day, a week after that dreadful Halloween night, and with final exams lurking around the corner, now more than ever he needed to be well-rested and focused, especially in he wanted to keep his spot in the Dominion.

Violet told him she'd spend the entire day with her parents and Teddy was still successfully evading him, something he didn't know how to take. The two had spoken not one word since that night and the truth was, he felt almost grateful for it. He knew not what to say to Teddy; he hadn't known back then, and he still didn't know.

Once his drunken stupor disappeared, Tripp at last found himself in the proper condition to process what happened between him and Teddy in the Dark Hedges. However, just as his mind began to dissect the words spoken, the news of Bianca Garrick's suicide took him out of the Hedges and into a newer, colder reality, one he didn't know how to face.

Slowly, Tripp left his bed and walked to the door, leaving his room. His steps fell on the wooden floors, slow and heavy, occurring almost by inertia, as if all of him was on autopilot. Dragging his chains down the hall, he intended to follow his stomach's complaints all the way into the kitchen when something stopped him.

Sobs. Soft and almost tender, they echoed on the walls and sent a chill down his spine, a raw and brisk wave that rapidly spread through his entire body, a short-circuit that rendered his motion useless.

Turning back, he followed the cries to the end of the corridor, where a wooden door awaited him. He knew who this room belonged to, so he stood there for several seconds, wondering if his presence was required, let alone welcomed. Struggling with his own restraints, he finally knocked on the door once the sobs turned into high-pitched wails.

"Renata?" he asked, his silence waiting for a response that didn't come. "It's me, Tripp."

She grunted at his clumsy words, but no words followed. Alone in that hallway, feeling more stupid than before, he lowered his hand and spoke again.

"Are you okay? Do you need something?"

Once again, her lack of response left him feeling like some crazy person, speaking to the clouds and foolishly waiting for a reply. Still, he felt glued to the floor, as if something prevented him from leaving. His mind went back to the conversation he had with Bianca, regret's frozen touch chilling his bones.

She had been sad, desperate and he had done nothing to help her. He simply let her go, left her to suffer alone. If he had done something, said something, then perhaps Bianca wouldn't have felt like there was no way out. Perhaps she'd still be alive.

Shaking his head, wanting more than anything to rid himself of those thoughts, he knocked again, more firmly this time, determined to get into that room.

"May I come in?" he asked, disguising his words under a steel armour.

Another prolonged silence spread through the hallway, one that not even Renata's cries dared interrupt. It seemed to be the house's new language, silence, a quiescence that was everything but peaceful, a stillness that failed to provide any calm.