EDITED 2/8/13
The night was cold and dark. It had been a rare trip home for Morton and Adrian, and Adrian had retreated to his room after dinner. His room, large and spacious, was on the second floor and overlooked the gardens around the back of the house from two huge, high windows.
It was as though his room had not changed at all since he had last been there… well, why should it have? It still had the same spacious, calm feeling that he so desperately needed. His walls were a pale greenish grey, almost like the colour of silk, and he had a single four poster bed pressed against one wall. He had five book shelves with exactly four hundred and twelve books on it in alphabetical order, a small table which held his few experiments (including what happens to leaves in salty water) and a large, free standing wardrobe which held all of his clothes and shoes.
The room was plunged into near darkness as Adrian turned the light off, climbing into bed with Evelyn Waugh’s book Brideshead Revisited in his hands.
He turned on the small desk lamp at the side of his bed and began reading, wondering very briefly what ‘contra mundum’ meant before translating the Latin quickly as he shivered in the cold. Pulling the blankets around himself, he thought how much he loved the main character, Charles Ryder, because he was unassuming and polite, but wasn’t perfect because he was obsessed with all things beautiful. Adrian wanted to see beautiful things and meet beautiful people, and his heart hammered in his chest as he kept reading. He was at the point where Anthony Blanche was warning Charles against Sebastian’s superficial charm, when he saw something in the corner of his eye. Adrian’s head snapped up and his eyes scanned the window, startled.
He was sure that he’d seen something in the garden, but now, as his heart slowed and his eyes moved more slowly, he saw nothing. Had he imagined it? Adrian thought not, he rarely imagined anything… but there was nothing there.
Shrugging to himself, the boy returned to his book. Adrian’s dark curls flopped into his face annoyingly as he carried on reading, using a thin hand to swipe them from his face. At thirteen, he hadn’t really thought about how his hair looked or whether it was pleasing to other people, but sometimes it was annoying, though mummy liked it longer so Adrian preferred to keep it that way. Smiling a little to himself as he finished the chapter, Adrian tucked the book under his bed and turned off the light, feeling his eyelids pull down and his eyeballs itch. Feeling tiredness creep up on him like an unwanted cold, he rolled his neck and closed his eyes, slowly drifting off into a dark sleep.
II
He was awoken by a high pitched, earth shattering scream that shook him to the bone. His throat became tight as he sat bolt upright, hands becoming clammy.
Adrian took a deep, shaky breath as he swung his white legs out of bed, his knees knobbly and face flushed. Clad in a pair of pale blue pyjama bottoms, he snatched the matching top from the end of his bed and hurriedly pushed it over his head as he headed for the door, dizzy as his dark hair came across his eyes. He wrenched the door open, his ears prickling as he heard footsteps. Morton? Mummy?
Though the scream was dying slowly in his ears, Adrian still felt panic course through him as he stepped out onto the landing, dark shadows created from the gentle moonlight coming from the windows which lined the right wall. He inched slowly down the landing and came to a stop as he looked over the oak banister and down into the inky blackness that was the foyer of the house.
Unable to see anything, Adrian headed towards the stairs and turned to the large arched window which stood at the top, covered in thick, velvet curtains. Feeling the fascinating smoothness of the cloth, Adrian deeply inhaled the familiar scent of mummy as he wrenched open the curtains: it was her who always opened and shut the curtains dawn and dusk, and to look out at the back gardens was her favourite past time. He smiled a little to himself as he sniffed again, filling with the smell of rose water and opium perfume. He could imagine roses growing wild in the furthest gardens and old men smoking the intoxicating substance through long straws in dark rooms-
“A-adr-ian, h-honey?”
He jerked.
Face scrunched up in confusion, Adrian turned around and glanced down the stairs before him, taking in the illuminating light and dark shadows creeping out under the furniture of the foyer, but he saw nothing until his eyes scanned the stairs. Something inside him hit a snag, like hands over rough stones: the voice belonged to mummy.
As Adrian’s eyes adjusted, he saw a stranger and her. Dressed in her beautiful evening apparel and a dressing gown, she was lying on the stairs, head pointing sideways and limbs spread like a drag doll. But then, he saw it; the blood. Crimson was leaking from her… she was broken. Mummy was broken and-
He could see the culprit!
The stranger darted from mummy’s side. Adrian moved down the stairs as quickly as he could, stopping by mummy and gently touching a piece of her blonde hair. She smiled slightly, and Adrian wondered whether she looked sad or happy because he couldn’t tell, but his brain was feverishly humming as he gripped his mother’s cold fingers.
“I have to go and get him, mummy.” Adrian was shocked of how quiet his voice sounded as his eyes flickered to the stranger, struggling to open the window. “I’ll be back, I promise.”
There was a moment’s pause and he stood, legs aching as he tilted his head upwards and cried,
“Morey! MOREY!” He moved further up the stairs, not wanting to move away from mummy but desperate to call for help. It was as though he was between two equally forced magnets. “MOREY! MUMMY IS BLEEDING!” He was near screaming now, moving further and further away; in the distance, he could hear Morton shouting something, and suddenly, his older brother appeared at the top of the stairs dressed in a random tshirt and shorts. His face was almost broken as he looked from his brother to his mother.
“Moreyihavetogo.” Adrian’s voice was blurred as he felt pain rise in his chest, looking at his brother. “Holdmummy. Hold onto mummy. I… I can see him, Morey-“
And without another word, Adrian skidded off the stairs and hurried across the foyer as the stranger jumped out of the window. Furiously fast and ignorant to pain, Adrian jumper clumsily through the window and onto the soft, wet grass. About twenty feet away from the house, he could see the dark stranger running across the gravel; Adrian could hear shouts from daddy and crying from Marvin but at the moment, he didn’t care. Not waiting for his eyes to adjust, Adrian ran blindly across the lawn and onto the stones, a dull ache filling his feet as he moved; hands were balled into fists and the wind was flying through his clothes and hair as he shouted wordless sounds into the dark night, the cold wrapping itself around him as the stranger slipped further and further away…
He came to a jagged holt as the stranger-no, the killer- disappeared into the misty woods ahead.
There was no hope now. He hadn’t been quick enough, and the killer of mummy had disappeared from sight.
YOU ARE READING
Pseudology
Mystery / Thriller"Their minds don't work like yours does, but you should be proud." Adrian Reid has an incredible memory: dangerously addicted to drugs, Ade has been in a downwards spiral for several years, unable to erase his difficult childhood. When he uses his...
