Dead End Paradise

Chapter 7

I could hear the sounds of smashing glass coming from a room at the top of the stairs. And yelling. She wasn't yelling at anyone in particular, but rather seemed to be screaming to the universe. I waited, not wanting to eaves drop but unsure what I could do to help. I stroked one of the dogs' head absentmindedly, my feet rooted to the floor.

I didn't see Amelia for two days after that. Unable to reach the man with the tow truck, I had no other choice but to stay at the house. The first day I sat outside her bedroom door for an hour. I knocked periodically, hoping to inform her of my extended stay. I received no response. Eventually I gave up and began to further explore behind closed doors. Many of the rooms on the upper level were bedrooms with no obvious signs of being lived in. All were pristine and undisturbed. It wasn't until I entered a particular room on the main level that I came across manifestation of Amelia's disorganized personality.

The office walls were completely covered by floor ceiling shelves. Each was packed to capacity with books of all types. Describing the collection as eclectic didn't even do it justice. It was as if someone had gone into a bookstore and chosen each volume at random. It didn't seem possible that one person had this many interests. I had no idea how Amelia found anything either, as there didn't appear to be any organization. Proust sat next to a celebrity's autobiography, and a book on airplanes was tucked in above a selection of romance novels. I spent a great amount of time in that chaotic room, running my hands along the spines and glancing over the titles I could see. It took everything I had not to rearrange the whole lot, but I feared the reaction I may get from my missing host when she returned. To keep my mind off of it, I eventually talked to my sister.

"What do you mean, stranded?" Bell asked me, her voice coated in worry.

"My car is buried and it won't start," I tried to explain. "When I tried to contact a truck to pull me out, I got no response."

Bell huffed before going silent. I could tell her mind was racing, attempting to come up with a solution to my problem. She would often think about a problem until she could fix it, regardless of how long it took her.

"So you're safe where you are?" She inquired, interrupting the static over the line.

"I actually like it here," I confessed, reflecting over the days I had already spent with Amelia. Glancing out the window, I watched as the snow once again began to fall lazily, lighter now than when I had arrived.

"Marcus?" Bell interrupted my thoughts, apparently disturbed by my silence.

"I'll do what I can to get home," I reassured her, "there must be a train I can take. To hell with the car, you always said it was a piece of crap anyway." I wondered about Amelia, hoping that she could drive me at least as far as the next town. If only she would come out and talk to me. I had begun to worry, the only sign of her still in the house being the full dog bowls and the occasional empty glass in the sink. I had tried her room multiple times, only to be met by a locked door and a silent room beyond.

I said my quick goodbyes to my sister and put the phone on the dining room table with a sigh. That's when I noticed her, standing just at the top of the stairs watching me. Gone was the bright and energetic girl I had seen just days ago, replaced instead by a shell. A small cut stood out against her porcelain skin. She smiled halfheartedly, refusing to look me in the eye.