The visitor

I can't remember what happened that night. All I know was the echoes; It was a complete blackout. Not even a single sound was heard. 

At 3 o'clock am, she could feel the cold winter breeze brush through her feet. The pale crescent moon shunned its light to earth revealing nature. Her window was ajar allowing the rays to make a shadow in her room. 

A knock came to the door as early as it was. She felt uneasy within her. No one had ever visited by that time. She was terrified. The knock came harder to the door again and she jegged standing to her feet waiting in silence for a voice or a move from outside but she heard none. She tiptoed to the door with her duvet covered round her neck making a coverall.

You could see how scared she was from her shaky voice that lost its form after the reveal of her visitor.  Her eyes were steady and her jaw dropped.

Lanthe was dark sinister looking and singularly handsome having a pale skin and a well structured body. His heart-flat shape lips and dark brown eyes made his diamond shaped face of some sort of beauty. 

He looked so weak and wounded and had a blood-lust face that made Maria alert. He could hardly say a word, giving signals of thirstiness.

Maria, still frightened, ushered him in to sit on her wall nut chair that was almost broken.

Maria was born an orphan and lived with an old woman since her teenage age in an archaic city. She was taught different things that she could use to earn a living in the small cozy town; shoes, clothes, hair, babysitting was rare, and herbalism.

She is by appearance a dweeb. She would put on her loose-fitting gown that was almost worn out and her pair of shoes. Her face was often unattended. A red lipstick would do and off for hotfoot.

The street of Kerkstraat was as busy as the day with bright light making it lovely. She pressed for time to Beckham's shop and ordered herbs that would heal her victim before dawn but they didn't have what she wanted except for the kiriku slik and the black powder. She had no choice but to get it.

The shop was crafted out of a Willow towering tree. There were all shades of green and brown, with the rays of light teasing in and out of the branches, and leaves creating yet more beautiful hues.

A world under the tree was like being in a snow globe, safe and protective. The mountains surrounding the tree served as the walls. These walls provided beauty, silence, mystery, and comfort.

She shivered as the wind howled and the trees swayed in the wind as if dancing to a silent song. Walking down the street, a shadow fell over her, a large green figure walked slowly behind the tall trees on the path, its eyes were cloudy and bone poked through its greenish flesh, it opened its mouth showing crooked yellow teeth, and its face was covered in bloody wounds and when it made eye contact with her it smiled.

You would know she saw what she wasn't supposed to see at the moment. Her legs were shaky and her eyes stocked to a position. She was motionless. A whistle brought her out of hallucination and she took to her hill without a retrospect.

On getting to her doorstep, she didn't hesitate to go in and lock the door behind not after the farce. She exhaled heavily, uttering words almost like a thank you. To her amazement, her victim was not situated. Her jaw dropped. "Was it a joke?" Sleep had lost the game. The room had caved a shadow by the moonlight that kept reminding her of the incident but her duvet was of great help.

The rising sun cast a rosy hue across the morning sky. Golden fingers of sunlight lit up the scene. The just-risen sun shone softly on the city streets, bringing with it a flurry of early-morning activity.

You could see how furnished Maria's room was. From the wooden dark floor to the walls decorated with a flowery design and the ceiling. The kitchen has a large area with a dining table in the center. Once the food is ready her supposed grandma sits at the dining table to have food together. Towards the top of the cabinet, she kept all the liquor. It was eye catchy.

The warm yellow rays wafted through her window and dust modes floating were suspended in the air. It was beautiful yet normal. Too bright to look at, yet too bright to look away. A combination of being happy and carefree feeling cropped in. It was like sleeping without dreams.

Looking at the walnut chair brought memories of the early hours. She was astonished yet confused. She stretches on her bed letting out a wide yawn.

Grandma was already in the kitchen preparing toasted bread with smashed eggs. She noticed the uneasy feelings Marie had but didn't want to force things. She was called Imogen which means purity whenever words are to be gotten from her or whenever she is sad and uneasy within.

Grandma wouldn't allow her to do anything. She was strong yet old with the right vocabulary. She was a teacher at Bryan's college and taught English, French, and shorthand which were her favorite courses. She talked her into saying what happened but it didn't work out for her. She would only smile at Grandma's words.

Maria without hesitation perked Grandma on her forehead with a smile "everything will be a fine mum. I gotta leave in the next few minutes. You Know how the street is" she smiled, taking all the necessary items for work. " I love you, mum?

"I love you too".

Grandma still didn't want to believe her suspicions were not true. She could feel it deep down that her child wasn't ok. She gave her a more detailed examination.

She arrived at 7:40, ten minutes late, but the children, Jimmy and Bitsy, were still eating breakfast, and their parents were not ready to go yet. From other rooms came the sounds of a baby screaming, water running, and a television musical (no words: probably a dance number — patterns of gliding figures come to mind). Mrs. Tucker sweeps into the kitchen, fussing with her hair, and snatches a baby bottle full of milk out of a pan of warm water, rushes out again. "Harry!" She calls. "The babysitter’s here already!"

Work has never been a stress-free one for her since she stepped into kerkstraat. It has been from Babysitting to another; from one annoying customer to another.

To save herself from accidentally falling asleep on duty, she kept taking a bottle from under the table and drinking out of it, and after every pull at it she twisted her head and said aloud:

"What is the reason, kindly tell me, that customers enjoy themselves while I am forced to sit and work for them? Because they have money and I am a beggar?" She hated all her customers not because she wanted to but because she has been suffering and she thought they don't see it to be of help. At least, she would experience Luxurious living, especially those who lived in Kolokolny Lane.

They would want a particular thing but yet find it and say no. Mia, one of her periodic customers who has never stopped to change her mind even as change is constant, slammed her phone down on the table and stormed out of the room and I knew it was regular.