(Continues from "A bonfire in the basement")
I heard a creepy voice coming from the room. It was not exactly unnatural, but it was forced and the pronunciation was almost painful. Plus, the first thing I heard it saying was "...came to visit again, also with a skirt, isn't that romantic?" Romantic. RO-MAN-TIC. I've never worn a damned skirt ever since, let me tell you. My blood was half frozen by now and my curiosity was about to flood the entire building. I stepped forward silently to get closer to the window hole. I wish I didn't, but honestly I would be living with the doubt and curiosity, instead of the image I saw in there. First, of all there was a corpse. A dead guy, all of the guy (ok, no, some chunks were missing) wrapped by all the things you can point at and say "construction worker gear". Helmet, belt, boots and what not. That wasn't as bad as the other thing there: an elderly woman, pruned, wrinkly, dry. And naked. Oh yes, she was naked, except for some oil she rubbed all over her body. Oil or mud, maybe, I don't know, I didn't stop to take a careful look. I wanted to run away forever, in fact, but my body was frozen solid and my mind was whimpering. You've never heard a brain whimper? It's pathetic.
"My baby boy stole her little heart, un. She can't escape."
I got so dizzy... Then she laughed, and I finally snapped out if it and started retreating as fast as I could. Adrenalin was running free through my body, I guess. She knew I was there, she knew I saw, because she didn't even turn around and she yelled "HE LOVES YOU." Then she started running after me babbling something about true love and romance and it made no sense or I wasn't paying enough attention, take your pick. Of course by the time I reached the following floor I found the stairs blocked by garbage, no surprise there. I kicked it around and felt my legs failing, I had to hold on to the handlebar. I heard her steps getting closer, and started kicking despite my legs' refusal to cooperate. I felt an electric chill when I saw her legs covered in thick scars, bruises, dry blood and boils. She had what it seemed like a 1/2 wrench hanging from a chain she was wearing as a necklace. She had way too much skin. I jumped down the stairs, landing awkwardly on my knee, scratching it. I got up as fast as I could and kept running down, scratching myself some more. And the damned woman kept up with my pace. Like a nightmare, she was always right behind me, going on about her darling boy loving me so much. I screamed as loud as I could. For release and to get some sort of attention, no matter whose. She had a putrid scent. Climbing the last staircase down, I tripped and my scratched knee failed, sending me rolling down to the ground, which fortunately sent me away from her fast enough to get an advantage. I could see the kids gathered outside, behind the mesh.
One of the little girls caught wind of what was going on, sort of, and she climbed up and ran to me, helping me walk. My leg was done with my shit for the day and refused to work at all. The kids were staring at me in mute amazement, I had to yell them to snap out of it and call someone.
"The police, the fire department, the major, whatever!"
Two of them ran away to find a payphone, and the rest (except the other girl and the runt) pulled down the mesh further and when I made it there, helped me and the girl out of the place.
I turned around, looking for the woman, but there were no signs of her, she must have not followed me outside, fortunately. The kids were bombarding me with questions, but I had no mind to answer and no heart to describe anything. Soon I heard the reassuring sound of an ambulance siren. I sprained my ankle severely, and my knee was relatively ok, the lying bitch. I was taken to the ER, released in a couple of hours and told to stay at home for at least a week, I've never been happier to obey. That night, in my bed, in the threshold between consciousness and sleep, I was glad to hear some tapping and scratching on the window. The next morning I remembered I wasn't at home, where the tree branches normally tapped my window, on the second floor, but instead I was at my relatives' home, on the first floor. They had no plants around.
The kids came to see me during the week, the helping little girl first. She was a neighbor of the crazy lady and she knew the woman was scary. I could piece together a bit of what happened thanks to the testimonies of all of them. The company that was in charge of the building had few concerns for security, accidents happening often, but it was when a worker fell down the elevator shaft and broke his spine down there, dying, that they lost their license to operate. The mother of the deceased, already unstable, lost her marbles for good after that, disappearing. She went into the building, we know now. The woman was found next to the body of her son, which she dug out, no lie, and taken to a mental institution. Resilient old thing.
I was supposed to stay some more weeks, but the second I was allowed to walk I went straight to the airport... Well, I bought some toys for the kids first. Their eyes widened. They were way past the scary moment by then. I wonder if they even remember by now.
Needless to say, I've never returned to visit my extended family.
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