You deserved better

You stared at the dingy, large, intricately designed iron gate as if in a trance, wondering how a sight so feared was something that now fueled your intrigue and fascination. It was as if the misty air and the ominous energy was calling out your name, and you were happy to oblige to the questionable beckoning.

Snap out of it, you’re crazy!

You scolded yourself internally, and tried to divert your attention towards the small walk leading you back home.

Whatever you do, stay away from the Torrance mansion.

The same warning would keep repeating itself in your head, a warning that was etched into the minds of all the kids in Arcadia Bay, to keep them away from whatever supposed bad luck latched itself onto the barren, eerie mansion and those who would step within its vicinity.

Well too bad, because you weren’t a kid anymore, and for some reason, the mystery around the forbidding mansion and its prior inhabitants was now something you wanted to unravel, or atleast know better of.

Unlike your childhood days where you would get terrified of anything that had to do with darkness or the supernatural, or whatever awful things the world had to offer for traumatizing young minds, your interest was now piqued by the unknown realms of the dark and mystifying.

You wouldn’t deny that something was utterly wrong with you.

Then again, you were now older, well aware of the fact that real life was in fact much scarier than any horror movie or fable you knew of.

                                                ***

“No!”

You jolted awake, eyes darting desperately from one corner of the room to another, trying to familiarize yourself with your surroundings, taking in the fact that you were no longer trapped within a nightmare, but were in the safety of your bedroom.

All you wanted was a peaceful afternoon nap after school, but your mind just had to bury you in distress.

You wiped the beads of sweat away from your face with the sleeve of your jersey and pushed back some damp strands of your hair while sitting up, the disconcerting images flashing through your head, stuck within as remnants of your recurring nightmares.

It was always the same horrifying and scarring vision, your furious stepfather charging towards your mother in an animalistic rage that you could view in those momentarily terrifying, demonic eyes, raising a hand to strike her, and just as you would dash towards your agitated mother in order to protect her from the monster while screaming and crying, the terrorizing vision would come to an abrupt end.

You started seeing this nightmare after the actual event happened once- right in the living room, a year ago, a clear indication that your family had been completely ruined. You were able to protect her that once in reality, nonetheless, you lived in an agonizing fear of whether it would happen again, and whether or not you would be able to shield her.

Ever since, a part of you had irrevocably been damaged, and you felt less motivated to be the confident, overachiever you once were.

Grades dropping, social interaction dwindling, you were now standing in only the ashes of who you used to be, unable to remember the last time you genuinely smiled, or even behaved like an ordinary seventeen-year old girl. Being an only child living under the roof of a short-tempered, abusive stepfather solely due to financial circumstances, you felt like an adult who was constantly worried about your own safety and well-being, along with your dear mother’s.

While your family situation was never ideal to begin with, it just kept getting worse as time passed, and it was getting harder than you imagined to stay in the same space as the loathsome man that you wished you and your mother were never associated with.

Though the both of you always kept your distance from the man, you couldn’t completely avoid him, and that was eating you up on the inside especially since even the sight of him made your stomach turn and your mind shut down. It was both infuriating and utterly despairing to catch sight of the middle aged, grey-haired excuse of a human.

You were distracted by your depressing thoughts only as you heard the pitter-patter of rain hitting against your window, and you turned your upper body around slightly to peer at the sight of it, gradually increasing in intensity as it descended from the grey sky concealed by thick, swirling clouds. You sighed wearily and rubbed your eyes, deciding it was best to forget about the dream and all the dreary thoughts linked with it. However, even if you were to try and think of something else, the bitter, gloomy emotions would remain lingering within you, rendering you incapable of actually accomplishing anything for the rest of the day. The stormy weather outside was just the cherry on the cake, adding to your glum and misery.

You were suddenly overcome with the urge to rush outside, despite the weather, feeling suffocated by your own thoughts and feelings in the confines of your dimly lit, tiny room. Trying not to make a sound, you crawled out of bed and slipped on your rain boots and pulled an oversized black hoodie over your pastel blue jersey paired with skinny jeans.

After grabbing an umbrella, you cautiously made your way down the stairs, noticing the empty silence of the house in the late evening, registering that your parents were probably fast asleep. That only aided your attempts to slip away unnoticed so that you weren’t questioned or stopped from leaving.

                                              ***

It was quiet, dark and cold outside in the secluded neighborhood, the rain pouring from the heavens in a steady, but not too heavy pace, the perfect setting for you to stroll idly along the sidewalk in an attempt to clear your mind from its haze.

With your jumbled thoughts in a frenzy, and your gaze on your boots as you sauntered along the wet concrete, you didn’t even notice that you had arrived in front of the Torrance’s Victorian style, haunting abode. You stopped in your tracks as you sensed the shift in your surroundings, an intense energy now looming in the air.

The peaceful bubble of serenity you were wrapped in now burst as you suddenly grew more aware of the chilly air, the earthy scent of rain and foliage, and the rapidly increasing downpour. 

You were standing where the gravelly pathway leading towards the rusty gate began, beyond which lied the large, derelict manor that only looked ten times spookier in the stormy weather.

Though it was difficult to properly view the castle-like estate considering its appreciable distance from the gate, its image was pretty clear in your mind, having ventured deeper towards it many times as a kid.

You should have felt uneasy, yet you could only mentally scoff at how your own life felt more messed up than the daunting surroundings, years of bottled-up negativity, resentment and sad memories now rushing through your brain all at once like waves crashing against the shore.

You hated crying as it made you feel vulnerable and weak, still, tears began to escape your strained eyes of their own accord, and you allowed the umbrella to slip from your grasp and the cool raindrops to wash over you, drowning out your sobs of overwhelming emotion.

Tears clogging your vision, you suddenly became alert and confused as you saw what appeared to be the faint silhouette of a tall man, standing right in front of the huge gate. You placed a shaky hand above your forehead to block the droplets of rain and tried to focus on the figure, and it was then that your blood ran cold and your eyes rounded in shock.

Standing at a small distance from you was the most frightening yet ethereal sight you ever laid eyes upon.

An otherworldly young man with deathly pale, porcelain skin and raven tresses, dressed in an all-black, elegant attire; silk shirt adorned with fine lace details tucked into fitted leather pants that stretched over his long legs, a large coat over his sculpted frame, glare directed towards you through inky black hues that looked like an abyss of pain, fury and long held secrets.

You knew at that moment, that you were seeing an apparition, the boy’s unearthly aura and light glow unmistakable, reminding you of the world of devils and angels, though you couldn’t quite tell what kind of spirit he was- evil or good. He seemed completely unaffected by the rain, a possible advantage of being part of the supernatural.

You wanted to believe that you were stressed and hallucinating, but his piercing gaze held you captive, convincing you that his presence was real, fear and shock exploding through your shivering body and paralyzing you as your heartbeat soared.

His expression of scorn melted into more of a pained and helpless one, as if sensing and mirroring your own agony, his eyes now soft and reddened as a lone tear slid down his flawless face.

It was as if an unspoken connection was being established, you could feel him being able to peer into your soul and read you like an open book, and the fear dissipated from your bones as you felt like drowning in those deep, obsidian eyes and knowing his own untold tragedies.

The moment was short lived however as thunder and lightning ripped through the sky, causing you to flinch and flash your eyes upwards, and before you knew it, he was gone.

                                            *** 

You entered through the front door sheepishly, drenched and anxious to face the scolding you knew was coming your way, but you were instead welcomed by the same state of silence your house was in when you left, your mother sitting on the living room couch the only difference.

Forgetting about the life altering encounter you just had, you moved towards the woman you would take a bullet for, a somber expression painting her angelic features.

“Oh, you’re back.” She acknowledged in a hushed voice, sparing you a distracted glance.

She knew your antics of rushing out of the house in the face of anger or grief, but you still expected more of a reaction.

“Where’s Peter?” You asked begrudgingly.

“He went out, took the car. Was pissed over something as usual.”

“In this weather?” You asked, as if you hadn’t just done pretty much the same thing, except you weren’t stupid enough to drive in what was now a torrential downpour.

“Mhm” She mumbled and scurried off towards the kitchen.

You could sense something was off as your gaze wandered over her fragile, tired form. You turned around and began climbing up the stairs in desperate need of a hot shower, but paused midway.

“Mom, why is your cheek red?” You asked, loud enough for her to hear. She chose not to reply.

You huffed as you felt your heart shattering and trudged up the stairs dejectedly before entering your room, slamming the door shut and leaning against it.

Your suspicions were confirmed, you weren’t always there to protect her, and you wouldn’t be.

She didn’t even want to put that burden on you.

How were you to go off to college?

You knew that you would have to move out of town to attain the education you and your mother had always dreamed of, but at what cost?

You were blinded by rage, and the desire to wreak vengeance was now coursing through your blood.

You wanted to kill him.

                                               ***

Your vision was clouded by darkness before clearing up to find yourself seated in the back of your stepfather’s raggedy, old car, the man driving with his jaw clenched and apparent frustration in his sharp, ageing features.

What in the world? How were you here?

“Peter?” You called out, but to no avail. It was as if the man couldn’t hear you.

“Peter!” You repeated, but it was as though you were entirely invisible, not even a glance was spared your way.

It was night time, rain pouring heavily as you remembered, and the road he was on was pitch dark, not a streetlight in sight.

 Was he on the highway to hell? Where was he going?!

You hated the man but this was just too dangerous, besides the fact that you were somehow accompanying him in this journey of self -destruction. With nothing in sight but a seemingly endless, unilluminated path stretching ahead and rain pelting down continuously, you were both caught off guard when all of a sudden, a young man’s familiar, pasty face flashed before you on the road, causing a panic-stricken Peter to swerve the car instantly. The sound of wet tires screeching against the asphalt was the last thing you heard before drifting out of consciousness.

                                               ***

You cracked an eye open to be faced with the sight of the plain, white ceiling of your room, brightened by warm rays of sunshine wafting through the window.

What kind of vivid dream was that?

You glanced at the wall clock which read ten thirty. It was the weekend so you had a fulfilling sleep, minus the disturbing dream and the memories of yesterday’s events of course.

You went downstairs, ready to begin the new day with at least a little bit of positivity, not expecting to find your mother standing in the middle of the living room clutching onto the landline with a petrified expression.

“Mom, what happened?”

You rushed towards her and grabbed her wrists softly, eyes scanning her face as her remorseful gaze settled upon you.

“Peter didn’t come home since last night. I got a call from the police, they said he got into an accident.”

You took a step back, trying to process the news that sent chills down your spine.

“H-he didn’t survive.”

                                              ***

It had been ten days since the funeral, and a lot had already changed.

There was now a certain tranquility in your home that you had always craved for but were unable to attain due to the constant turmoil in your then dysfunctional family.

Your stepfather had also surprisingly left a decent amount of assets in your mother’s name, ensuring that you wouldn’t have to worry about the bills for the next few years or give up your dream of going to college.

You were also beginning to find it easier to focus on things, as if years of clutter that had muddled your brain now cleared up. However, there was still an unresolved mess gnawing at you, causing you to have many sleepless nights, and it was time to get to the bottom of things.

                                           ***

“Hi Dorothy, I brought you your favorite doughnuts and coffee!”

You made your way towards the smiling face behind the wooden counter of the small, vintage bookstore, your preferred hangout spot in the little town.

“Thank you so much dear, how are you feeling these days?” She asked in her high-pitched voice and slight Polish accent, concerned green eyes landing on you through thick-rimmed glasses.

“I’m doing pretty good actually.” You perked your lips upward in a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

“Well then I’m happy.”

The elderly woman had seen you grow up right before her, indulging in the magic of reading and getting lost in the alternate universes offered by various books since you were a little girl. It was the only thing that kept you sane since you lost your dear father at the age of five.

You sighed and let the words fall out before you would chicken out again.

“You’ve always avoided talking about it, but I need to know what happened to the Torrance family…especially after what I saw…”

                                           ***

You were back home, mind reeling from the information you had just attained.

“It happened around twenty years ago. Michael Torrance had killed himself, aged nineteen. It was a few days after his mother had died, allegedly due to natural causes, but according to his suicide letter, he believed his stepfather, Elijah Torrance had gotten her killed as she threatened to expose his unlawful ways. He was the richest and most powerful man in town after all…”

You were pretty surprised as to how most of the rumors you had heard since being a kid were just stupid, false theories… if what Dorothy told you was true, then there was nothing spooky about it, it was just another heartbreaking story of injustice. Your heart ached for the young boy, who was most probably the same ethereal figure you had seen twice, once in reality and once in a dream, both on the same stormy night. The dream...

“What happened to Elijah then?” You asked, voice trembling.

“He died a few days after Michael did, in a car crash.”

“Hey could you check the mail? I’ve been busy grading assignments.” Your mother’s dulcet voice brought you back to reality.

“Alright.”

As you checked your mail, you noticed a sophisticated, cream colored envelope, making you curious. You opened it to reveal a letter that caused your breath to hitch.

You read the words written on the fine parchment, in delicate, cursive handwriting and black ink, as a certain boy’s beautiful face filtered through your memory.

He deserved what came his way,

And you deserved better.

Don’t worry, you won’t see me again.

                                                 ***

True to his words, you never did see him again, much to your dismay. You weren’t afraid of him. Alas, the time to leave town for college had come, and it was time to move on from the trauma of your past.

You decided to make one last stop before the taxi would drive you to the airport.

You stood in front of the dreary gate, for one last time.

You deserved better too, Michael.