Out on luck!
“Hey Deidre, it’s not the end of the world you know. These things happen, boyfriend ends up with best friend!”
Stella looked up from her packing at her friend. She felt contrite when she saw the tears streaming down Dee’s face. She had been thoughtless. Dropping the summer dress she was folding, she ran to hug and console her friend. What rotten luck that this had to happen to Dee, who to her, was the epitome of perfection. Dee was the quiet one - warm-hearted, loyal, kind and loving but no one really knew this mousy introvert who shunned too many people and lived a quiet uneventful life.
“Why don’t you come along with me? Camping is fun,” she said.
Dee smiled wryly and said she had to get away, be on her own and sort her life out. She had decided to go to the cottage her grandmother had left her not far from London. Shere was a beautiful place in the countryside, a place to think things out and to heal.
Two weeks had gone by. Deidre had already spent a week in her grandmother’s country cottage on the outskirts of London. Her grandmother had left her cherished home to Dee who had spent every holiday with her as a child. She loved this place and in a week had transformed it into a place of beauty.
It was a bright, sunny day. One of those happy, carefree days when all is right with the world. Deidre looked proudly into her garden and its surroundings. At noon, the riot of trees were bathed in their summer glory. Flowers vied with each other flaunting their beauty. She had changed the mess of weeds and bushes and brought the garden back to its former glory. Breathtaking ! It was back to being the holiday home she had known. She looked more relaxed. Her pale face had developed a slight tan and her eyes sparkled with delight as she looked at the results of her labour. She had spent the first few nights sleepless but after much retrospection had come to terms with the way things were. She was determined to move on.
After a whole afternoon of hard labour, Dee stood out in her garden, arms akimbo, drinking in the beauty of Nature as she listened to the chirping of a lone bird and watched a host of butterflies flit from flower to flower. The trees that stretched out into the distance looked tall and majestic, like sentinels guarding the place. She suddenly felt a cold shiver run down her spine and looking furtively around, abruptly turned around and went indoors, locking the door behind her. A hot cup of tea would perhaps lighten her sudden change of mood.
Not far from her window a man watched with interest. He heard each window bang shut and heard the bolts fall into place. He saw a woman who looked like the one who had damned him to a long spell in prison. Ten long years in jail for a crime he had not committed had made him the bitter, angry cynic that he was and now all he longed for, was revenge. He could not rest until he punished the perpetrators of his cruel fate. The woman was dead. But this was her granddaughter. A gleeful chuckle escaped his chapped lips. She would pay and pay heavily.
Deidre walked restlessly from room to room, closing every window and locking it. She could not explain the strange premonition that had suddenly instilled a sense of fear in her- something bad was going to happen. Something to destroy her new found peace and tranquility. She listlessly sat in front of the TV. Her favourite serial did not interest her any longer. What was wrong with her? Was she being paranoid? She tried to laugh at herself. Then she remembered the probable source of her fear. She had seen a strange man near the park .He looked ragged and unkempt. He had a red scar near his left eye. His eyes. Yes, she had noticed his eyes. They were green, but so lifeless and blank. And then she had seen a sudden change come over the man. He looked across at her. There was an angry spark in his eyes now, a look of such hatred in them that she shuddered as she remembered him. Who was he? Had she seen him before? He seemed to recognize her.
As she blankly stared at the TV, lost in thought she suddenly jumped out of her skin when she heard a scream. Her heart pounding, she stood transfixed for a moment. It took her some time to realize that it was only a night bird on a tree outside her window. Braver now, she ventured to open the window. A look of distress spread across her beautiful face as she took in the view. The sky was dark. The trees cast long shadows and looked threatening now. They looked like strange monsters, beckoning her to come outside.
And then she saw it. Strange. It seemed like a shadow flitting through the trees near her driveway. Dee quickly closed the window. She turned off the lights and crept to her room. She bolted the door. She lay in bed listening to the sounds of the night. And then she heard it. Not a scream. Not the sound of footsteps. No. It was like the scratching sound made by a rodent. A creak. An expletive. The sound of cloth brushing against metal. Someone was climbing the pipe outside. Too late she realized that the high window in her bathroom was the easiest way to enter her house. She fled. Down the stairs she raced. The lounge. She needed to find a place to hide. She crawled behind the sofa and waited.
Minutes seemed to tick by. Then she saw him. A dark figure with a bandana on his head and a handkerchief covering the lower half of his face. Suddenly the lights came on. He had turned on the switches. She found herself staring into the eyes of a killer. Cruel, green eyes met terrified, blue ones. Their eyes locked and held. He chuckled at the look of terror on her face. In a flash , he whipped out a bottle . She felt a stinging sensation on one side of her face. Her face was on fire. She could not think straight. The oaf was coming closer. Now he was brandishing a knife in the air. He rushed at her. He stopped. He looked at her with a twisted smile on his lips. He ripped the handkerchief off his face.
“Look at me,” he commanded. She looked at him, hardly focussing because of the agony she was in.
“I’m not a pretty sight,” he spat out.” I have your grandma to thank for that. Retribution now, my dear.” He brandished a cruel, curved knife. She recoiled in terror.
A sudden leap .He gripped her arm now and ripped the skin off her face from below her eye to her chin. Dee did not even hear her hysterical screams as she slipped into blackness…
Almost an hour later an ambulance rolled in. Mr Hall, a long time neighbour and friend of Mrs Mitchell, her grandma, had heard the anguished screams and had shuffled down to the house of his old friend, only to find the ghastly sight of her granddaughter lying motionless with blood dripping down her face. He had alerted the police and the hospital and accompanied the unconscious young woman to the hospital.
…
Two days later Dee woke up in her hospital bed. The doctors said that she had been really lucky. But her face! Her face was distorted. The acid had disfigured her and the angry red scar that ran from her eye to her chin looked like a question mark.
.‘Hideous,” she whispered as she saw her refection in the mirror. Her vision blurred as she sank back and buried her face in her pillow.
“Hideous!” she repeated as a steam of hot tears spilled down her cheeks, and fell onto her pillow.
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