This is a piece written mostly as a series of haiku (I say mostly because it'does take a short break in the middle). I wanted to force myself to expand my word usage and describe things more succinctly. It ended up being an exercise in restraint. I had a good time working on it, even though it was a little exhausting. For fun, I tried conveying the setting in the picture above using 17 lines in Microsoft Paint.
Waves caress the dock. Water laps against the wood. Wind brushes the lake.
Stars shine in the dark. Light reflects off the water. The surface ripples.
The moon has risen. A lone seabird calls its flock. Boats bob at their docks.
Leaves fall from the trees. Foliage turns red, then falls. Autumn wind stirs them.
The house is quite old. Its paint job is bleach’d pale blue. It has no basement.
Ivan types away. He sits with his old laptop. He is on the porch.
Indoors, he can’t think. The scent of old wood lingers. He works on the porch.
A screen stops the wind. The porch door rattles slightly. He stops, sighs, then types.
He looks at his work. Files upon files to complete. And no end in sight.
The house is not his. He tries not to think of that. It is his father’s.
He feels shame at this. He lives off family wealth. That’s why he must work.
Maura comes downstairs. She is covered by a robe. Slippers on her feet.
She enters the porch. She was in bed, not sleeping. She wears a bathrobe.
Maura looks at him. He does not look up just yet. He has not heard her.
“Ivan,” says Maura. His typing slows to a stop. He looks up at her.
“Hm?” Ivan mumbles. She see his eyes are tired. She waits, then says more.
“Are you coming to…?” “Oh god, the time, I didn’t…” “Yeah, it’s pretty late.”
A moment’s quiet. He looks at the time and sighs. Time slips by these days.
“Sorry, I lost track,” He rubs the bridge of his nose. “God, so much to do.”
She pulls her robe tight. Outside, she hears the slow waves. She can see her breath.
She dislikes the lake. She dislikes the woods as well. So, she stays inside.
Inside, it is dark. Inside, it is quiet, warm. Inside, she is safe.
“It’s freezing out here. You don’t want to go indoors?”
She steps on the porch. The boards creak under her feet. She wears blue slippers.
He has old, cold tea. Chamomile tea, by the smell. She picks up the mug.
“So, everything good?” Ivan is asking Maura. She glances at him.
A look in her eyes. Delusions, he thinks, assumes. She gets them sometimes.
Does she hate this place? She seems to, he always thinks. But there’s nowhere else.
He looks at his screen. His train of thought is derailed. Tired, he exhales.
“Sorry…um…sorry. I just want to get this done. It’s due…fuck…Wednesday.”
She rubs her shoulder. She sits in the chair near his. It is slightly damp.
“I…ah…couldn’t sleep.” “Me neither, so I figured…” “You usually can’t.”
“I had a coffee.” “Oh for the love of god…when?” “Around eight or nine…”
“Oh Ivan, Jesus. You’ll make yourself sick, that’s gross. Around eight or nine?”
“I can handle it.” “No, that’s really unhealthy!””So’s smoking, Maura.”
“No, stop deflecting!” “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” “Don’t do that again.”
He shrugs, shakes his head. She suspects there’s something else. Something he won’t say.
This is how it is. Almost every night this week. She can’t sleep, he won’t.
A breeze wafts by them. They look towards the forest. The woods are quiet.
“Ivan,” says Maura. He turns to her and says, “Yes?” A chill fills the air.
He notices change. Her eyes hold a quiet fear. He’s seen it before.
“What is it, Maura?” She does not respond just yet. Cold, she hesitates.
“New environment. It’s exacerbating things.” “Schizophrenia?”
“No, Jesus, Maura. I will not diagnose you. That is not helpful.”
“But what is it, then? The voices that I’m hearing? And why can’t I sleep?”
“It’s paranoia. That’s all, just paranoia. Everything’s normal.”
“Everything’s not normal.”
…
Not changes the air. The not, the linguistic switch. It poisons a mood.
The chill rhythm breaks. She has broken the pattern. Why would she do that?
…
“Maura, I’m just carrying on as normal, I don’t…”
“You’re trying to, you’re trying to…since we came here, you’ve been different.”
“Stress, that’s all, it’s just stress…”
“No, it’s more than that.”
“Explain.”
“It’s…you’re so obsessed with your routine. You’re inside. You work for eight hours. You stop. You eat. You come out here. You work for four hours. You sleep out here. I feel like…I’m just going to come out and say it. There’s no time for me in your pattern, is there?”
“Maura, that’s just a routine. You need a routine to…to get by, you know?”
“There’s…it feels like you’re avoiding something. Like you’re sticking to this strict schedule at the cost of your own health and…”
“Well what about you?”
“What about me?”
“You wake up, you work for eight hours. Then you clean. You clean the house over and over again. You don’t stop cleaning, and then you go to bed, and then you can’t sleep. You don’t leave the house, you don’t stop cleaning…”
“So you are going to diagnose me?”
“No.”
“Look, I’m…I’m aware that there’s something wrong with me. That’s the difference. I know there’s something wrong with me that I…I have to clean, I have to work eight hours, I…”
“You clean the same places. Over and over.”
“The same places?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ve noticed. It’s the same spots. Above the fireplace. The sink in the laundry room. That orange spot just under the refrigerator. Those spots. Over and over again.”
“Christ, I don’t even notice. What else have you noticed?”
“You won’t leave the house. Even now, look at you. You’re standing by the door, just waiting to go back inside.”
She notices he’s right. She has unconsciously moved. She is by the door.
“I heard something again tonight.”
…
No, we can’t let them. We can’t let them break from it. We need them to stay.
Goosebumps chill his skin. This has been happening more. He’s worried for her.
“Where was it this time?”
She closes her eyes. Her face is losing color. She sips from the mug.
“By the water.”
…
Let them try, you’ll see. They’ll find their way back, like dogs. They have nowhere else.
Waves caress the dock. Water laps against the wood. Wind brushes the lake.
She looks through the screen. Her teeth slightly chattering. She holds the mug tight.
Ivan looks concerned. He adjusts his old glasses. They slip down his nose.
“What did it sound like?” “You don’t believe me, do you?” “I didn’t say that.”
They sit in silence. Each waits for the other’s thought. A chill fills the space.
“What were the sounds, though?” “I tried describing it, but…” “You said it’s voices?”
“Yes.”
…
Let them try again. Let them try to break the mold. They’ll come back again.
And the pause resumes. He searches for the right words. He folds his cold hands.
…
“I get concerned, Maura, because it’s…once in a while, this is normal.”
“Sure.”
“It’s normal for people to hear things in the middle of the night, especially near the woods like this.”
“Sure.”
“But every night now, it feels like there’s…I don’t know, it’s happening more and more frequently and I think…”
“Schizophrenia.”
“No, Jesus, that’s not what I was going to…”
“Do you think I’m schizophrenic? Like Mom?”
“No, but I think this is…this might be a bad environment for you or something…”
“It is.”
“You think so…”
“I know so.”
“I…but…but we kind of need to stay here right now because…”
“Because it’s cheap. That’s your point, isn’t it?”
“I wasn’t…you can’t keep putting words in my mouth.”
“Ivan, this is a bad place for me. For you, too. I can tell.”
“You can tell?”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t seem comfortable here either.”
He starts to respond. But then he hears it again. It stops him mid-thought.
Drink her blood, Ivan. Slice her to pieces, Ivan. Boil her bones…NOW.
He looks to the door. A wave of fear goes through him. He grabs his armrest.
Slow wind shakes the trees. Above, the windows shudder. The lake sits in wait.
“Ivan.”
…
She sees him turn white. He would deny it, she knows. But she still sees it.
“This isn’t normal.”
…
He does not respond. A cold feeling grips his heart. Darkness fills his mind.
He sees it inside. It’s peering at him, the thing. The man from the hall.
He falls to the ground. Maura rushes to his side. His eyes are open.
“Jesus, Ivan! Are you okay?!?”
Ivan nods his head. Maura helps him get back up. He checks his laptop.
The laptop is fine. It struck the floor when he fell. It is undamaged.
“I…I don’t…it’s just stress, I think. Sorry. I’ve been getting these spells.”
“What?”
“Dizzy spells.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?!? Jesus, you need to see a doctor.”
“Can’t afford to see a doctor. We can’t…it’s fine.”
“Your parents will pay for it. Just go see a doctor.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, Ivan, it’s not, you have to…how many times has this happened? Jesus, how have you not told me?”
“It only happens at night, I swear, and only once in a while. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, I just need to…I just need to get hired full-time, you know? A few more months, maybe, then they’ll make me full-time, I’ll get insured, and then I’ll go see a doctor, okay? Then it will all be okay. It will all be…”
“Ivan, you’re unwell. If you’re going to be up this late, you have to work inside, okay? Working out here in the middle of October, that’s not going to…”
“I’m fine. I’m fine.”
“You’re NOT FINE. My GOD. You just collapsed! You’re thirty-four, and you just collapsed like…it looks like you have a heart condition or something.”
“I don’t have a heart condition! I would know if I had a heart condition.”
“How? How would you know that.”
“I…I’d just know. I would know.”
“You wouldn’t know.”
“I’d know.”
…
Maura, burn his eyes. Drown him in the lake tonight. Give him to us, please.
Maura perspires. That outside whisper is back. She looks to the lake.
She glimpses the eyes. Then they disappear again. But you saw them, right?
He gets to his feet. He brushes off his sweatpants. Maura shuts her eyes.
“You’re not yourself, Ivan.”
“Oh, stop it.”
“Something about this place is changing you.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I’m telling you…”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“You just collapsed, it was…you’re collapsing, I’m hearing things…”
“Those…those are unrelated.”
“Ivan…”
“There’s nothing wrong, Maura.”
She gives him a look. He does not believe that’s true. Something must be wrong.
“Ivan?”
“What?”
“We need to talk about this.”
“About what?”
“Things were good, weren’t they?”
“Emphasis on were, though, is that what I hear?”
“Something’s…we’re falling apart at the seams. Did it all start…when did it all start?”
“…I think you’re going to say...”
“…when we moved here.”
“I…tell me how things are falling apart. From your perspective.”
“Holy shit, you collapse on the ground, and you ask me how things are falling apart. What kind of denial are you in?”
“We’re both stressed, you know? Like, I’m going through some stress. You’re stressed out, I know.”
“Why do you think that is?”
…
Return to normal. Fit the holy pattern, please. Yes, so we can feed.
…
“I don’t know.”
“Ivan…I know I have an issue, I know there’s something off with me, you know, the hearing things, the...I’m admitting right now, I have a problem, it needs addressing. You aren’t. You’re out here collapsing to the ground, acting like nothing’s wrong with you. Something’s wrong with you.”
Return to pattern. This time outside sours you. Waves caress the dock.
“It’s stress.”
“You can’t just blame stress forever. I mean, sure, it started with stress. By now, it’s…you’re fundamentally different, do you know what I mean?”
“Fine, I…maybe it’s a lot of things. I don’t think there’s any one problem. I mean, who can really summarize all their problems? Can you…if you had to summarize your problem…Okay, I’m not saying this to hurt you, I’m genuinely curious…if you had to summarize your problem, what would you say?”
She will lie to him. She will say it is her fault. Not the thing she saw.
“Maybe it’s OCD, I don’t…I don’t know enough about that to say for sure.”
“Yeah, don’t self-diagnose.”
“I won’t. But, I…I get bored, I get lonely, I don’t really know where to go because this place is like a foreign country, you know? So I dunno, I clean. I work, then I clean, and that helps me at least feel like…I don’t know, like there’s some control over the situation. I don’t know.”
“Maura, do you hate it here?”
“Of course not.”
“Why won’t you leave the house?”
She will not tell him. The thing she saw in the lake. She cannot say it.
“I…really don’t know. I’ll work on it tomorrow. Starting tomorrow.”
“Good, I think this house…I think we can make it work. I want it to work.”
“But what about you?” “I’ll work on myself as well.” “I need more than that.”
“What exactly do…” “I’m worried about you, too. Like, more than myself.”
She wants to break out. To break the pattern once more. Just one more attempt
“What about you staying out here late at night by yourself?”
“I…”
“Is it because of me? Is it something I did?”
“I…”
He stops himself short. There is no use denying. At least, to a point.
“I…don’t feel comfortable in there at night.”
He will not tell her. The thing he saw in the hall. He cannot say it.
Quiet creeps in close. They both know something is off. Cold rain hits the roof.
“There’s no reason to stay in this house, Ivan.”
“Yes, there is.”
“Money.”
“We can make it work.”
“You want to stay here because of money.”
“I…partially, but…”
“You want to stay here, but you don’t even come inside.
Blood ran from its face. He cannot shake the vision. Its teeth were stain’d red.
“If we sold the house…”
“It’s not ours to sell.”
“If we told them they can sell the house, it would…”
“Dad would never forgive me. Not in a million years.”
“…Yes.”
The voice calls to her. It tells her she must drown him. The voice in darkness.
The whispers at night. The voices from the water. The glimpse of pale eyes.
“Could we…”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“What were you going to say?”
“I was going to say…loans?”
“We’re drowning in debt.”
“I know…but…going back to school…like you wanted to back when we…I don’t know. I’m not sure what to do.”
The thing in the hall. It tells him to smother her. Shows him her dried blood.
“Maura.”
“What?”
“I’m just thinking…I feel terrible. I feel like we should be…so grateful for this house, for a place to live. It’s nice out here. People would kill for a house like this. It’s…”
“But neither of us are happy here.”
“No.”
“Why is that?”
….. ……. …..
“We don’t belong here.”
“No.”
“But where do we belong, I guess, that’s the question…”
“I should go back to Texas.”
A soft chill descends. Indifferent water laps. Cold air strokes their skin.
“You think we should…”
“I think I should…”
“You think you should…”
“I…I don’t know.”
“There’s…they’re not going to make it easy for you…”
“No, they’re going to make my life a living hell, but I don’t know, I…”
Cut off her ears, boy. Rend her limb from limb, we say. Devour her soul.
“So you’re saying life with me is…worse than that…?”
“No, fuck, that’s not what I’m saying, I just…I don’t know, I just feel like things have gotten so off, I don’t know, maybe I just need to go back for a while, recalibrate…”
“We’re just…we’re going through a rough period…”
“It’s this place. It’s this place. I don’t know, something about this place.”
“I know, but Texas…”
“There’s just nothing for me here…”
“There’s nothing for you there!”
“It’s…I heard from my sister, and things might be getting better…”
“Better, but not…do you remember how relieved you were when you graduated and you realized you’d never have to go back to Texas again?”
“Yes, but look at how much time has passed and…and we’re stuck.”
“People get stuck sometimes, it just happens.”
“…”
Eat his face, Maura. Drive both your hands through his skull. Drink his blood, we say.
“No, you’re right, you’re right. But I have to do something. About compulsive...”
“A psychiatrist.”“When you get health insurance.””I could ask my Dad.”
“Ask your Dad for what?” “I could ask Dad for money…” “Really, your Dad, your Dad.”
“Yeah, you have a point.” “I mean, You know your Dad, right?” “I do know my Dad.”
“So I guess we wait. Wait it out, see what happens.” “We’ll see what happens.”
“Stick things out, I guess. Until you get insurance.” “Then we’ll see doctors.”
They stop for a breath. They both sense something it wrong. But the pattern holds.”
“I’ll look for a job. A new one, with benefits.” “Maura, you don’t need…”
“No, no, it’s okay. We’ll just stick things out for now. I’ll look for something.”
The pattern will hold. The feeding will continue. The pain will nourish.
He looks back at his screen. “They are going to hire me.” “You really think so, huh?”
“All signs point to yes. It’s just a matter of time. Then we’ll see doctors.”
“Okay,” says Maura. She sends false reassurance. Nothing will be solved.
Waves caress the dock. Water laps against the wood. Wind brushes the lake.
A bird calls its mate. A leaf falls from an oak tree. Pine needles rustle.
“I’m…going back in.”“‘kay, I’ll be there in a bit.””Don’t stay out all night.”
“I…have to finish...” “Yeah, but get some sleep, okay? It’s already real late.”
“Yeah, I’ll finish soon. I’ll see you in the morning.” “See you tomorrow.”
She steps back inside. She gives him a solemn look. She closes the door.
The thing in the lake. Its bleeding smile and wet hands. The voices she hears.
He looks at his screen. He has so much work to do. He will sleep poorly.
The man in the hall. His long, cold mouth and thin legs. His tall silhouette.
She lies in their bed. She stares at the dark ceiling. Tries to ignore them.
The girl in the lake. Her ugly grin full of blood. Her voice whispering.
He fears the inside. The wall between them thickens. She fears the outside.
The pattern still reigns. The pattern holds forever. The silence shall win.
Dark will swallow them. It is inevitable. We come for you all.
Haunting and disturbing.