The House Companion

Chapter 3: ...What...?

*T.W.

Kn*fe, bl**ding, spiraling down to insanity.*

I ended up asking Lockley to remove the picture after a few days. I just can't shake off the feeling that she was watching me, and I didn't like that.

I'm currently washing the plates while Lockley's facing her laptop, currently in a video conference with her headphones in, a concentrated look on her face. By the looks of it, it seemed like an urgent and important meeting for her to be this serious.

These past few days, I learned a few things about Lockley. She's 20, a student from a prestigious university, a junior, and was giving heavy importance on her thesis that I have no clue what it's about.

All of these I learnt through eavesdropping, not an ideal way of learning about someone, but it still feeds my curiousity and keeps it at bay.

Most times.

I also found myself getting bored in this house. I can't help it, there's not much anything to do after the first week of me cleaning this house. Just cooking, sweeping the floor, sometimes watering the plants, and that's it.

Lockley has made it her mission to startle me every chance she gets, and every time I don't flinch since I'm used to it by now. But the first time I heard her shout profanities, they were so crisp that if I didn't know she was cursing at something on the t.v. I would've thought it was directed at me.

I think her step-mom warned her though, seeing as she minimized her shouting and became soft-spoken as I told her step-mom that I wasn't used to the anger in her voice.

It really felt like there's a hidden rage inside Lockley.

Sometimes I catch her balling her fists, enough for the veins in her hands to show up. One time, I caught her gritting her teeth at something she saw on her laptop. I tried my hardest not to look over her shoulder and just do my work of cleaning out the fridge.

And something is definitely happening in this house!

Some of my perosnal belongings, I will find them strewn about with no one touching them. I even tried to ask Lockley what it was, but her answer was just a simple shrug, that maybe it was an accident or something.

I don't believe her.

There were so many times where doors from the upstairs bedrooms close on their own, even if there was no wind present. There's also a matter of mutterings I hear, or breathing through the walls.

I think I'm going crazy.

"Amara?"

"Hm?"

"Um... the knife slipped and your hand is bleeding." I looked down, in time for the knife to drop on the sink along with a steady stream of blood coming from the wound at the palm of my hand.

"Ha ha, caught you red-handed there, didn't I?"

I didn't even feel the sting, nor anything, for that matter.

I was focused on her tone, or... the lack of it.

It was like she's stating a nuisance-- a problem, rather than fussing over my wound and worrying like how I expected her to be.

She almost seemed psychopathic.

I looked at her. She was analyzing at my wound as if it was a specimen or a phenomenon, and if she were to have a notepad and a pen I bet she'd be scribbling right now.

She finally stopped staring and shook her head, as if she broke out from a trance and stood up, walking over to one of the cabinets and took out a first aid kit. I stared at her aimlessly until she patted the seat next to her.

"Come on, we'll get you cleaned up. I'll be the one to wash the dishes from now on, yeah?"

I didn't know how I ended up in bed after that. All I remember was Lockley cleaning and bandaging up my cut.

How big was the cut?

I tried to close my injured hand, and I don't know if it's because it's fresh, but I feel like it's more tender and painful than I thought it'd be.

I don't even remember what I was daydreaming about when my hand slipped. I wasn't this absent-minded in the past. In fact, I was more alert in unknown territories, keeping my guard up whenever necessary.

I've not been at ease at all in this house. Like a terror nightmare was looming behind my back and all I have to do is turn around to find out what it wanted.

Except, I couldn't. I can't.

I don't know how.

It made me question what really happened.

Did I injure myself,

Or did Lockley...?