I stayed holed up in my new bedroom in the Victorian house's attic until long after sunset, when I heard Adaline yelling to me from one of the two floors below. The first thing I'd done after recovering my wits was to draw the heavy black curtains; the arched Gothic windows might be locked tight, keeping me protected from anything that might dare venture onto the cramped balconies, but I still didn't want to advertise my presence - and while it was a pain to grope around for the lightswitch in utter darkness, I felt safer that way.
This way, no one could see me - not even the strange girl down in the village. The one who'd seen me.
I shoved thoughts about the girl, Ethan, and Adaline from my mind as I fetched my box and backpack from the second storey and lugged them up the nosebleed-narrow steps. Mom's ashes would be mailed soon, or so Zoe had said, and most of my other things were coming by train. I'd had to choose carefully, but the non-negotiables had included enough clothes for a few days, and my laptop.
I eyed the cobwebbed electrical plugs carefully before picking the one that looked least likely to electrocute me. To my relief the lights in the room dimmed only briefly as the computer booted up, and my grandmother's wifi was unsecured, listed under her address. I'd have to do something about that, but for the moment it was well enough. Having to seek out my grandmother just to ask for a password would've been more trouble I didn't need.
When I finally did hear her calling, I found my way back down to the ground floor with no trouble. The stairs themselves ran through the core of the house like a spiral, so after enough left turns I was at the strange squid of a newel post again. There were two doors set in the wall to my left; the nearer led into what looked like a dark dining room, a long wooden table gleaming at me amid the moonlight, while the further led through into a lit kitchen. My grandmother stood beside the stove - and she didn't even look at me as I entered the room, squinting against the harsh fluorescent tube lights.
"Help yourself," she offered, nodding at a bulky silver pot that had been left to warm. Whatever it was, it smelled good, and Adaline only offered a single word as to its contents: "Chowder."
I didn't ask questions. I couldn't imagine pawing through the chipped cupboards, searching for something more familiar as my grandmother watched me balefully with those flat silver eyes. Seafood wasn't usually a go-to food group for me, but I was surprised to find that I liked it immensely; after being outside and upstairs so long, the warmth radiating from the mug restored feeling to my fingers that I didn't noticed I'd lost.
Mom's death, saying goodbye to Zoë, the trip here...it had all left me numb. But now there was no more moving around, and there was only one big hurdle left: the first day at my new school - and that was a whole twelve hours away.
"Settling in all right?" My grandmother's voice startled me, and I choked on the savory broth, my throat burning as I nearly inhaled it.
I nodded. "Thanks."
Those were the only words we exchanged - and I hurriedly scarfed the rest of what was in my bowl, washing it by hand and leaving it to drip dry in the rack beside the sink before retreating to the attic. Evidently my grandmother didn't have a dishwasher, or if she did, she didn't use it. Just another thing to add to the list of reasons I had to split from this place as soon as humanly possible.
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A linen cabinet on the second floor had been mysteriously left open, and I raided it on my way back upstairs, coming away with some extra pillows and a heavy blanket. It was enough to make myself a cosy little nest; aside from the minor hassle of having to climb back down to the second floor to brush my teeth, the room was already proving itself a godsend in being far enough removed to pretend that I was on my own.
My phone had a full charge as I set the alarm and turned off the dusty light that stood beside the bed - and it was only then, as darkness enfolded me, that the strange noises crept close like pattering footsteps. The waves raged against the cliffs, and I imagined I could feel the whole house shaking from the unceasing blows. Each time I thought I'd gotten used to its whispering song a new breaker would thunder against the land - and I'd find myself awake all over again, eyes wide but seeing nothing amid the shadows.
At some point I must've fallen asleep, because when I woke again it was with a start, in the middle of a howling storm. The panes of glass rattled in the Gothic doors on either side of my bed like chattering teeth, and even through the heavy blackout curtains I could see the blinding bolts of lightning. The house did shudder now with each whipcrack that split the sky, and I cowered under the bed, blankets and forearms covering my face to block out the storm's fury.
Even when it finally ended, I wasn't able to drift back to sleep - that was when footsteps sounded from the floor below me.
I thought the slow, rhythmic creaking was some last aftershock of the violent winds, and the hairs on the back of my neck prickled as I realized someone was up and walking around. It had to be Adaline - and I heard her tracing a path from her own bedroom diagonally across the L-bend corridor of the second storey, to the bedroom that she'd said I couldn't take.
At the time I hadn't bothered to ask why. Now I wondered.
Sound rose from the bedroom, bleeding up through the time-weathered floorboards. It was probably because there wasn't a rug - but there was no escape from the eerie, keening sounds.
Was Adaline crying?
It was impossible to imagine her haughty face contorted with sobs - but now that I really thought about it, was her bearing really so proud, or was it a pained grimace? I didn't know her well enough to tell, but I couldn't imagine what else might have been making such gut-wrenching sounds.
At some point I couldn't listen any more. Whatever was happening, it felt like I was eavesdropping, so I jammed my fingers into my ears, checking every few minutes to see if the quiet sobs had stopped. At some point oblivion stole up on me, and even the soft howl of the wind faded into nothingness.
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I'm floating in the sky. No, the ocean - it's calm enough to reflect the stars, and I'm surrounded by the a bobbing tapestry of glowing diamond spheres. It's a vast grid, and if I look hard, I can almost see the shape of it. It's like there's something here around me that I'm supposed to know, something I'm supposed to remember.
"We used to play together - or so my parents claim," Ethan murmurs beside my ear, his raven hair is soft against my cheek.
I instinctively try to sit up, but it's only the briny sea splashing against my ear. The water laps at my collarbone as I try to tread water, but my legs move awkwardly, as though they can't remember whether they work in tandem or alone.
Then something wraps about my waist, and yanks me under.
The frigid water closes in over my face, and then it doesn't matter if I'm two feet beneath the surface or two hundred; I can't breathe underwater. Whatever pulled me down is gone, vanished like the nightmare it is, and I'm drowning.
The water pushes against my flailing limbs in a peculiar swell. Something's coming.
I struggle for the surface, but it's too dark to find my way as my lungs start to burn. My heart pounds more insistently, as though nagging me to breathe - but the cold water still presses against my lips, reminding me that there's nothing out there for me but death.
"It's all right, Melody." It's her voice, I know it instinctively, and my eyes open of their own accord. To my astonishment they don't burn; even though I'm still down deep, I can actually see a little. It's the thing beside me - no, it's her. The girl from the village. Her hair is glowing with a pale silver light, illuminating the depths like an underwater moon...and her smile is pale with worry, her honey-brown limbs graceful as she treads water beside me, watching.
I open my mouth to answer, but only a last few bubbles escape, tickling my cheek as they flee into the inky abyss.
My legs kick of their own accord, and the burning in my chest becomes a raging fire. The blotches in my vision bloom like wild roses as consciousness starts to leave me. I'm going to die the way I always feared: in agony.
Then her fingers twine themselves in my hair, and her other hand finds my waist as she pulls me close. Her eyes are like silver rapture as she gazes at me, and her lips are warm against mine as she crushes them in an unrelenting kiss.
I can't help myself - my mouth opens a little as I yield to her, and her breath fills my lungs as she breathes life into me. It feels so natural that I surrender to the silver-haired girl completely, and bubbles escape me in a torrent.
She's saving me. Has she saved me before?
Her laughter echoes through the boundless depths like chimes - and as traces of the waking world fracture the dream like lightning, I can still feel her kiss as though she's claimed me for her own.
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NEXT TIME: Mel prepares for her first day of school at Marblehead High School, and receives a strange present from her grandmother Adaline. The question of the forbidden door looms large in Mel's mind, and someone presents themselves to escort her on her way.