Paranoia

As she approached the house, she was sure she saw a face in the upstairs window of her house. She took smaller, unsure steps then, hesitating with every fall of her foot, wary and aware. She focused hard on the window, and with a blink of an eye, the face vanished from her sight, as did any remnants of what could have been. She stood still, contemplating whether or not she had actually seen anything or rather, anyone. Her breathing became shallow and short lived, she dared to peek another look at the window and it was so empty and devoid of life that for a moment she doubted her paranoia.

Recently, there was an unrelenting voice in her head, her heart, reverberating through her bones, all telling her something would go wrong. She was convinced someone would betray her. She suspected everyone she knew. Every single person. Even her husband. She was aware that suspecting her husband was a bit much since he was so loving and naïve, he had been nothing but supportive of her and normally, she trusted him a lot. But recently, with the way her paranoia had been all consuming, she decided it was not possible to be too careful. Even family can hurt one another. Unfortunately, she knew it all too well. Also considering that she had no contact with anyone from her past life since the incident, it had to be someone she knew, and she was not afraid of any of those people. Believing her own inner convictions, she looked up at the window with confidence and saw the blue curtain shift ever so slightly, so slightly that she convinced herself it was just a figment of her imagination, just like all the other stories she had concocted in her head. She took several deep breaths, feeling each inhale deep in her chest, holding onto the feeling of a body full of air, and then concentrating on the sensation of air blowing out her nose. She physically shook her head to get rid of the thoughts muddling her brain, afterwards tilting her head down and to the right, as if allowing and watching her thoughts physically come out of and fall to the ground from her head.

The visualisation seemed to help as it gave her the courage to finish the 10 metre trek to her front door, towards the window upstairs. As she inserted her key into the front door, she was certain she heard a sound inside the house. Once again, she stood absolutely still, not even daring to breathe, straining to hear any other sound. But all stood still. The day was as quiet as it could possibly be. There wasn’t a rustle of leaves, not a gust of wind, not a single bird chirped. Even the damn dogs from next door did not dare to make a sound today. Usually they pissed her off with their incessant howling and screaming at all odd hours of the day and night, made her want to go over to them and just… But today, even they would be a welcome noise. But of course, today was the day all was quiet. She tried to dismiss her thoughts again and chastised herself for being so unnecessarily paranoid.

She finally turned the key after minutes of agony about the sound, but the key did not comply. It did not turn. She tried again and yet again it stood rigidly still, not unlike the air around her. She felt her heart drop down to her knees as she realised why the key would not turn. She placed her quivering hand on the doorknob, trying to remember whether or not she had locked the door earlier when she left in the morning. This is what happens when you let your thoughts consume you, she thought. She stood there, contemplating her options, torn between making a run for it in literally any direction or accepting that she was so lost in her thoughts this morning that she forgot to lock the door. The irony of all the thinking she was doing was not something she had realised at this point, what with being lost in her thoughts.

She finally made the decision to go in, convincing herself that maybe her husband had come home early that day, even though his car was not parked in front of the house as it always was. Well maybe he parked it elsewhere, even though he never did it. Perhaps he just lent it to one of his work friends, even though he had only done that once, months and months ago and it was a dire emergency. See? The thoughts really are an issue. None of her stories were a convincing possibility but she was determined to believe at least one of them, purely as a way to rid her mind of any other thoughts and feelings. Despite all her attempts to console her thoughts, her mind wandered back to that night of the unfortunate incident. She was worried, terrified really, that her time to face the music had finally arrived. 

As she wearily entered the house, she dropped her bag and keys on the living room couch to her left. Making her way through the living room, she saw nothing out of place. The same could be said for the kitchen. She made her way to the bottom of the stairs and called out, “Honey? I’m home!” But there was no response. She paused and tried again, “Honey! Honey?” In lieu of a verbal response came the deafening sound of something falling down the stairs. It tumbled and rolled over several times, shattering into smaller pieces with every descending step. She leaped back just in time to avoid the remnants of the miscellaneous item from crashing into her. She recognised it as her bedroom bedside table, now reduced to less than a shell of what it used to be.

Finally recognising the reality of her situation, she realised, (with a hint of triumph as none of this was particularly surprising to her), that all her paranoid thoughts were more than valid. She performed a mix of a run and a hop back into the kitchen, her mind moving faster than her body was able to. She yanked open the drawer and grabbed the first thing that touched her hand. A corkscrew. She paused for a second, imagining driving it into someone’s neck the same way she drives it into the cork of her wine bottles. Deciding this would be an appropriate weapon if it came to needing one, she started the long journey up the stairs. Carefully trying to avoid broken glass and random pieces of splintered wood, her thoughts, if it was even possible, doubled in number. She felt like she had two million instead of the usual one million thoughts fighting for first place in her head, pushing and shoving the other to be at the forefront, making it feel like the front of her head was bulging out from her face, weighing her down. One thought kept winning. Despite all the others trying to dethrone it, it prevailed again and again, eating away the front of her brain, drilling a hole into it. All it said was, “He has come for you. You know who it is. You know why he is here. He has come for you.” Only one other thought managed to squeeze past the former one, for a brief second, making her question how exactly he had found her? Who told him where she was? Who betrayed her, and why? She tried to keep her cool, reminding herself that she had a weapon to defend herself.

With these thoughts simmering and boiling over in her mind, she managed to finally stagger her way up to the top of the stairs. As she turned to her right making her way to her bedroom, she felt her body betray her mind’s convictions. Her heart was fighting to jump out of her chest cavity. It felt like her heart had grown Wolverine like claws and was tearing and clawing its way out, chipping away not only at her body but her resolve too. Her forehead did what her heart could not, and broke out beads of sweat which trickled down the side of her face, as well as moisture forming above her upper lip despite the rigid, unwavering cold. At this point even she had had enough of her endless thinking, so she took one last deep breath, felt it run through her body and entered her bedroom.

Upon her entry, she saw a man standing with his back to her, facing the window and looking out of it as he pushed the blue curtains to one side, evidently not bothered to hide anymore. Yes fine she was right about that part. He turned around, finally coming face to face with her. She took a sharp breath in, but ultimately was not surprised to see him, just taken aback for a second by how different he looked, seeing what the years had done to him. “Today is such a pleasant day. The sun is out. It’s nice and cold. All is so calm and quiet, serene even. It’s the perfect day to die, don’t you think?” His voice was laced with sweet nectar, so sweet it was suffocating. There was no malice or anger in his voice, just pure contentedness. It would have been easier if he were mad, would have made it easier for her to fight him, but his calmness threw her for a loop. She felt more lost and confused than ever, her mind quiet for the first time in years. For the first time in her life, she did not know what to think or do. All she did was stare at him, unable to move, simply standing there limply, as if half of her skeleton had taken a vacation for the time being.

As she looked into his eyes, memories of before, memories she had worked hard to supress every single day all came crashing down on her with the force of a hundred trucks. She felt it hurt her physically, as if he were hurling needles at her with his eyes. His eyes pierced into her soul, the past prickling at each inch of her skin, wounding her in a way she never thought was possible. It forced her to take stagger back, bumping into the wall behind her. As if still not satisfied with the pain she was in, he started to speak. Replacing his previously sweet voice and demeanour came an angry, vengeful person, someone determined to cause the other more pain than he had been through. “I have been waiting for this moment for eleven years now. Eleven years. Do you know how that feels? Four thousand and seven days have been spent biding my time and waiting to come face to face with you. To look into your eyes and ask you how you can live with yourself knowing what you have done. You have this big house, a husband, a car, a job, people around you. Do you know what it feels like to be devoid of all of this because of one person ruining your life? Do you?” He took a momentary pause to catch his breath, and then sped on again, “You. You are the reason why my sister is dead. Why I haven’t slept since she left me, why I spend every waking moment crying over her while the person who is responsible for it lives a happy life.” While he spoke, she just stood there, or rather slumped into the wall, feeling each word hit her harder than the previous one. 

Not again, she thought. This cannot be happening again. Not again. She opened her mouth several times but all that came out were staggered groans. 

His fury seemed to worsen, “What? Why aren’t you saying anything? Cat got your tongue? Speak up now will you, SAY SOMETHING! WHY DID YOU DO THAT TO MY SISTER?”

“BECAUSE SHE WAS MY SISTER TOO!” She screamed back, taking him by surprise. Once again, after all that action, all fell silent and still. Both people were breathing rapidly now, taking short staggered breaths in quick succession. It felt as though there was not enough air in the room to accommodate both of them.

He looked like she did before, absolutely defeated, his face full of shock. For once, he felt he did not hold all the power in the room. The news had momentarily derailed him. He felt as though he had heard the news of his sister’s death once again. “What do you mean she was your sister too? That… that makes no sense at all. Why would you brutally murder your own blood like that? What are you saying?”

She squeezed her eyes closed and rushed her speech, finally vomiting out the words she had never spoken aloud to anyone. “Look it’s a really long story but when our parents died, all three of us were in foster care together and we had nothing and I was tired of it. It was worse for me because I was old enough to remember mom and dad. I knew what it was like to have everything, to be loved and have it snatched away from you. The both of you were only one year old when they died but I was eleven. I couldn’t take the pain of our foster parents doting over the two of you because you were babies and mistreating me because I wasn’t tiny and cute so I ran away after two months in foster care. I made it through to eighteen somehow, guilty for leaving you but knowing you were safe satisfied me enough to not go back for you both or even see you. But when I was eighteen, some lawyer told me that our parents had left us a good fortune and that it was time for me to inherit it and take you both under my care. I panicked in that state. I saw a glimpse of what I could have; a good, happy life. A chance to start afresh without anything from the past holding me back. Unfortunately, my past included the both of you so I made the difficult decision to forget about you both, take the money, move to a different country and have a second chance at life. 

All went well for the first six years. I found friends, a job, a house to live in and food to eat. Then she found me. I don’t know how. I thought it would be impossible for you guys to find me but somehow, she did. She confronted me one late night after work and started yelling at me, asking how I could leave the both of you alone like that, how I didn’t perform as your older sibling.” Her speech becomes more frantic and urgent, almost pleading, “She kept asking how could I not feel any remorse for my own blood and telling me how much you guys struggled and that I deserved the darkest pits of hell. She demanded yours and her share of the money and just would not listen to me, wouldn’t stop telling me what a horrible person I am and something in me just snapped and I pushed her hard into the wall behind her. She fell over and I saw a brick next to her and picked it up and just slammed it into her head over and over and over. I just wanted her to stop saying all those horrible things about me. I did not mean to hurt her but she just would not listen. I had no choice and I don’t know what happened but I just…” At this point she fell to the ground, wracked with tears and guilt. It all flowed out of her in a steady stream, taking over the whole room, filling every tiny inch. “Miraculously I did not get caught. I tried to move on with my life. It was even more difficult the second time around. I moved countries again, restarted my life from scratch again. Here I found a man I could love and get married to, but vowed never to have any children, lest they suffer the same fate as me.” She suddenly stopped talking, as if someone had pulled the plug on a record player. All was silent again. He stared at her completely exhausted and defeated, trying to digest the information.

Somehow still not out of words, she opened her mouth to speak again when she heard a sound to her left, coming from the bathroom. He looked down at the floor, and speaking to no one in particular he said, “You can come out now.”

She snapped her head up to look at the bathroom door, expecting to see her sister emerge. Had she somehow survived? Is that why she was never caught? As her mind raced, out walked her husband. He simply looked at her, with disgust in his eyes. Her paranoia was valid. She was right. Family does hurt and betray one another. Her brother spoke now and said in the dullest voice, “Surprise. Your husband was actually our sister’s boyfriend. I sent him into your life, thinking you were some random person who murdered my sister for no reason. His job was to make you fall in love with and completely trust him, until I was able to come here and avenge my sister. Didn’t think I would be avenging one sister by killing another… Either way, you deserve the worst form of torture in the world and more now that we know the full true story. Just know that you did this to yourself.”

The last thing she saw before her husband slammed a brick into her face was her brother staring at her with an empty face.