City On Fire

18

Probably the only reason he was even looking for the bloody door was because she seemed so sure it was there. In itself all this was madness but there was something in her conviction that made him look over his own scepticism. If nothing ells he would prove to himself that she wasn’t to only one who was stark raving.

Unfortunately he never got his proof. When he knocked in the far right corner he could hear the space behind it was hollow. Ella heard it too and was staring at him as if to ask why he wasn’t doing something to break the wall down.

”Don’t give me that look. It may be wood but it’s not nearly as easy as kicking it down.” He had one hand on the wall and one on his hip, as if to show control over the situation. It wasn’t working. She looked like a child whose favourite stuffed animal had just been stolen and for a moment he was afraid she might cry. The more she stared at him with those eyes the more he realised he had gotten proof of his madness. Since when does a woman have this much power over him? He had helped her evade police twice now, he had allowed himself to get into this situation and now he was thinking of a quick way to break down a wall all because some little thing was giving his puppy dog eyes. Maybe they could share a floor at the asylum when they get caught.

The more he thought on it the more he realised the breaking it down was not going to be an option.

”You’re the one who knows all about the secret room. You tell me how we get in?”

She looked from him back down at her feet and then to the wall. He had a point but when she had found it the last time the door was open. She didn’t see how it happened.

Slowly the room filled up with silence and as the afternoon sun turned to dusk. Conrad was becoming annoyed and to Ella it looked as if he was desperate to leave. “You should leave.”

She walked back to the wall and placed her hand against the cold surface. As she did he removed his and stepped away. His silence reassured her suspicion but when he didn’t turn to leave she quickly turned on her heal. “Thank you for everything, I truly am great full but I think you should leave now.” Still he didn’t more even after she had raised her voice. Slowly reaching the end of her tether she screamed.

“Get out!”

She was shaking and tears where streaming down her face. All of this meant nothing if she couldn’t get to that room or even worse find that it doesn’t exist, perhaps never did. Conrad remained expressionless despite her falling to pieces, something that made the whole situation so much worse. It wasn’t long before he turned and left. Breathing heavily she stood and listed as the motorcycle sped away. When she couldn’t hear it anymore she backed up against the wall and started crying uncontrollably. With Conrad gone she couldn’t get back to the deserted back streets to the people who had taken her in, she couldn’t get in touch with Benny and now she was alone in the dark all over again. She hated the dark, even before her unfortunate isolation tank experience. Everything always seemed louder and the old house was no different. The wind playing through the broken windows turned to voices which taunted her, the creaking wooden walls threatened to swallow her whole and as they came together they reminded her that she was doomed to fail and wither away alone, unable to stop the immanent bloodshed. Sinking down to the ground she pulled her legs up against her chest and banged her head against the wall.

Why the hell did she have to chase him away?

The wind turned from taunting to laughing and she clasped her hands over her ears. ”Stop. Please just stop.”

Her begging only made the laughing louder. When she realised that covering her ears did no good she let her hands fall to her sides and rested her head against the wall. Staring out the open door she heard what sounded like the clicking of heals on the wooden floor. As the sound came closer the wind subsided and the silence, for once, was glorious. The brought piece to her weary mind and even after the footsteps stopped she felt calmer. She didn’t see anything hut she knew it had to be the woman in green. The full moon illuminated the room just enough for her to make out her surroundings and looking over at the portrait she stopped crying entirely.

Initially he didn’t realise but there was a frigid breeze conning in through the open door. Pealing herself of the floor she decided to trade her spot against the wall for a spot on one of the chairs, one that faced the portrait. She was slow t take her seat, fearing it might collapse under her but there wasn’t as much as a creek. Not taking her eyes from the woman in the painting she settled into the chair. The house was far better than being out on the street.