Obscured

Sophie and Henry’s house was still, quiet. Standing at the laundry sink in the basement, Henry was wringing water out of some clothes with as much power as his forearms could muster. It was early morning, a single lightbulb illuminated the dark room. Looking up, he saw a dribble of water that had permeated the basement walls. The lights flickered.

Sophie slept, two floors above. She was on her back with her arms sticking out straight as a board, each at different angles. Somewhere between sleep and consciousness, Sophie attempted to gasp for air. Rippling sounds reverberated thunderously in her ears, and she snapped awake in an instant. She reached towards the lamp on the bedside table, but her panicked movement sent it crashing to the floor.

‘Henry,’ Sophie yelled, but her voice croaked, and it came out no louder than a whisper. She stumbled to the floor.

Hearing the fall from the basement, Henry glanced up and quickly threw the clothes in the dryer.

A giant mirror stood along the front wall of the bedroom, Sophie crawled toward it and looked in. When her eyes made contact with their reflection, her pupils shrank drastically. In a split second, the deep, dark blue green of her irises also appeared to collapse to the centre, like a wave. She closed her eyes tightly and gripped the leg of a chair with all her strength.

Henry entered the bedroom, holding a glass of water. Sophie’s eyes flew open, and she scrambled to sit up.

‘Are you okay?’ Henry asked as he flicked on the light.

Sophie looked in the mirror again, touching her face and then her chest.

‘I don’t know. Can you come here? What were you doing out of bed?’ Sophie asked frantically. Her whole body was shaking.

‘I couldn’t sleep, I’m sorry,’ Henry said as he handed her the glass of water. It slipped straight through her hands, and splashed onto her after landing in her lap.

‘For fucks sake!’ Sophie verged on the edge of screeching, pushing the cup off of her and getting to her feet.

‘Whoa whoa, it’s okay,’ Henry walked towards her and put his hand on her arm. ‘Sit down for a second, everything is fine.’

‘This place is doing something to me,’ Sophie said.

‘The house?’ asked Henry.

‘It’s the same as last year, that was October too right? Before?’ Sophie rambled, scared. She turned in her chair and stared outside. A light on the porch remained on all night, at Sophie’s insistence. Though it did not provide a view, as everything past the last ten feet of the driveway was obscured by dense fog.

‘I don’t think you know what you’re saying honey. I know you don’t like it here, we’re gonna move soon yeah? It’s only another month,’ Henry explained, trying to calm her.

‘I’m not sure, I don’t think I should,’ Sophie gasped.

‘It’s just bad dreams,’ reassured Henry.

Sophie started to calm down, breathing in and out slowly.

‘Let’s go downstairs,’ Henry suggested.

Sophie drifted in and out of sleep on the couch, exhausted. By the afternoon she was still resting, finally getting up when the smell of soup on the stove stirred her. She spent the rest of the day packing, thinking about getting away from this house eased her mind. Henry had convinced her to move to the property one year earlier. It was an acre of land encircled in trees, and a washed out, creaky farmhouse.

Sophie didn’t sleep well the next night, awake by six thirty in the morning. She crept down to the basement with some dirty clothes. Her slippers smacked against each stair as she descended. The basement floor was mismatched sections of concrete and dirt. When Sophie opened the washing machine, she saw that there was water still sitting inside the drum.

‘God I hate this house,’ she said aloud. She fiddled with the buttons on the washer until it kicked on and began to drain. Waiting, she opened the dryer to check if there was anything in it. Inside there was a t-shirt and pajama pants of hers, as well as a pair of her underwear. There was also a pair of jeans, socks, underwear, a t-shirt and a sweater of Henry’s. Sophie rolled her eyes at the mismatched colours and type of items her husband had put together in one load. She put the clean clothes in a basket, the dirty ones in the washer that was now drained, and headed up to the main floor.

Henry woke up about an hour later. Sophie realized he was awake as she saw him taking the basket of clean clothes up to their bedroom, presumably where he had just come from.

‘Good morning,’ Henry said as he arrived in the kitchen.

‘Good morning,’ Sophie said, smiling.

‘How’s everything today?’ Henry asked.

‘I’m good, but I think I may try and take Monday off so I have an extra day,’ Sophie explained.

‘You don’t think they’ll mind? With your vacation days coming up?’ asked Henry.

‘I think it’ll be fine,’ Sophie replied.

‘Wanna take a walk down to the pond?’ Henry asked.

‘Sure, let me just throw something on,’ Sophie said, planting a kiss on her husband as she walked by.

Upstairs, Sophie opened the door to the master bedroom closet, and saw the basket of clean clothes on the floor. She started grabbing the clothes and putting them back in their places. She picked up her pajama bottoms, the last item in the bottom of the basket. As she did, something rolled off of them and onto the floor. Sophie jumped. She bent down and picked up a small twig, and walked it to the garbage can in the bathroom before getting dressed.

Dark and glassy, a pond a short way away from the house stood motionless. It was small, and the trees ran right up against it, so even on a bright day it was shaded; obscured from view. Sophie and Henry strolled up to it’s banks. Sophie shivered.

‘Cold?’ asked Henry.

‘Yeah,’ Sophie answered.

Henry took off a scarf he was wearing and wrapped it around her neck. He grabbed her shoulder with his hand and clamped down. Sophie moved to get out of it, and looked back at him, incredulous.

‘What the hell?’ Sophie asked, trying to laugh it off but genuinely wondering the answer.

‘Sorry, forgot my own strength I guess,’ Henry replied, sheepish.

‘Something is off with you lately,’ Sophie was abrupt and aggressive.

‘Something is off with me? Okay,’ Henry said sarcastically.

Frustrated, Sophie walked towards a dingey, dirty lawn chair sitting by the ponds edge. Rising steadily, she could feel her heartbeat begin to run out of control. She turned, her vision skittered like a faulty projector. She grabbed the back of the chair. Sophie saw an image of herself, like picture in picture, seated in the chair. Empty space surrounded her in all directions, she was tipped forward forty five degrees, gripping desperately at the arms of the chair and kicking her legs so as not to slide off. She was completely terrified and helpless.

They drove home in silence from the hospital at one a.m. Henry squinted as he drove slowly through the fog, Sophie was barely awake, yet still gripped the handle of the car door. Her exhausted mind wanted desperately to arrive at the house and pack a bag. Henry was glancing at her every few seconds, nervous.

Something thudded against a front tire of the car. Henry stopped and put the car in park, he was sweating profusely. He paused, bracing his arms against the steering wheel. He grabbed the bottle of water sitting in the cup holder, and then got out of the car.

‘What is it?’ Sophie yelled from inside.

‘Nothing, I don’t see anything,’ Henry responded.

Climbing back inside, he stretched his hand out with the water bottle, offering it. Something was at odds within Sophie. Her autopilot said sure, it would be good for you.

‘No,’ Sophie denied.

‘You should have some,’ Henry said calmly.

‘No, I’m not having it,’ Sophie said again, more determined. She opened the car door and began to get out.

‘What are you doing?’ Henry shouted. ‘You can’t walk more than ten feet.’

Sophie started back in the direction of the main road, her legs felt like concrete blocks. Henry caught up to her within a few seconds.

‘Whatever they gave me at the hospital made me weak, but it’s not fucking with my head,’ Sophie said, her voice shaking.

Henry looked away. His mind was racing, trying to think of something to say.

‘What do you do?’ Sophie asked.

Henry trudged down to the pond, with Sophie draped over his shoulder, unconscious. He looked for a place to set her down that wasn’t muddy, as he did before. He wrestled her phone out of her pocket, and took a picture of the hospital bracelet still on her wrist. Sending that picture from her phone, he had bought himself time.

He planted the chair a few feet into the water, so when seated there his body would be submerged up to the bottom of his ribs. He grabbed Sophie, and maneuvered his way into a seated position with her across his lap. Normally, he covered her nose and mouth.