Ash to Redemption

Ash to Redemption

It was the second time the shed had caught fire. I was surprised that the Anderson's entire property hadn't burned down when another "accident" occurred on the 31st of October in 1995. And I knew from that moment when I locked eyes with Mr. Anderson's only daughter Sarah, that the fire was no accident.

We were kindred spirits, Sarah and me. We were the only ones who hadn't been brainwashed by her father's wealth and her stepmother's lack of manners to the rest of us who didn't come from "money," as my father always put it. Like me, Sarah knew all about her family and how her ancestors led our own to finding this cheap glum town; Render Falls. She knew how her family to this day still dismantles anything beautiful into giant monumental buildings plastered with themselves and their surname that everybody overlooked the first time the shed went up in flames. Nobody bothered to report it to the police. Hell, the police knew about it and still shrugged it off as if it weren't any of their concerns.

At the time, I ignored it too, trying to be like the others in this rural town; gullible and anachronistic, but still, I managed to break the cycle of stupidity and traditions that were far from my taste. I mean our taste.

Sarah and I, we knew each other for a long time. Practically when we were infants as we lived next to each other, but I doubt she remembers that. She never was the one to reminisce- not since her mother died a year ago. It was hard on Sarah, especially since she was stuck in that gigantic house where Mr. Anderson kept her at bay with rules and "perfection". It was then, Sarah became isolated from the town and me. I hardly see her anymore. The only time I catch a glimpse of her is when she goes towards her window to peek through the outside world, long enough to reveal her faded smile and her brown Bambi doe eyes that longed to break free like a wild stag. Other times, I could picture her beside me, hugging and smiling until her tragic sorrow was no longer visible to meets the eye. And when she looked at me, it was as if we were small children once again, playing in my backyard in the early morning with our own imaginations, while our mothers sat on the porch behind us, sipping tea.

We would play for hours giving our mothers a chance to gossip and catch up with each other just long enough for Sarah and her mother to escape from the dark reality that was happening behind closed doors next to me and my family.

Now, all I ever do is go on with life, pretending it was every bit normal when I knew it wasn't. It never was for Sarah and me, nor will it ever be normal. Not until the town changes its way of life, not pretending we're still living in the 1900s where a young woman such as Sarah would be betrothed to a young man until marriage and then bare him with children – and the cycle to be repeated until someone put a stop to it. Or tried to like Sarah's mother did. At least someone in this town tried to change things, but it didn't do any good as the results remained the same even after her untimely death.

Sometimes at night, I would sneak onto the Anderson property and pretend that I was Sherlock Holmes and that my partner Nancy Drew, would find the courage within to break free of the tight leash that both her father and stepmother had her on. I would fit the missing puzzle of the "accidents" the police would never solve and see if my theory was correct; that the Andersons weren't as presentable and worthy as they seemed. Most importantly, I would find out if Mr. Anderson himself, was the one responsible for the shed and the death of Sarah’s mother.

It would make sense as a couple of days after the second incident, the Andersons built a new shed, still pretending as if nothing was remotely wrong or mysterious. Not even a little bit, not even when Sarah stood by her window, trying to conceal her face like a mask.

And it was then, that I decided to act; I would set a trap for the next evening of all Hallows Eve, I would stop the massacre of destruction and change the way of the town's view. I would succeed in making sure the next October 31st would not upset Sarah any longer; to make sure the culprit would be caught. They would pay for making the town quake with fear; especially to my dear friend Sarah. I would catch them and stop them once in for all. Even if was the last thing I would do.

  ***

And as expected, what had seemed to be thousands of years but only one; the day of 31st of October finally arrived. I stood by my window, looking back at my small, darkened room on the lookout for my parents who seemed to be asleep as I should've been. Yet, when the church bells chimed across Render Falls to indicate that the clock had struck midnight, I escaped and stood to guard behind my fence, pretending as if I weren't breaking the law. Nor was I aware of the obvious sound from the crunches of the autumn leaves in the Anderson's lawn, that I was no longer alone.

"Freeze!" I waved my flashlight to the criminal, not expecting the sight in front of me; with the familiar figure being the same height as my partner in mysteries; Nancy Drew. "Sarah, it's you? You're the one burning your shed?" I asked, staring at the candle holder in her hand, the white wick of the candle, dancing to the call of the distant wind.

"It's not any of your business Michael," She coldly remarked but before she brought the candle to the wooden shed, I grabbed the sleeve of her white cotton nightgown, stopping her from putting herself into harm's way.

That was until I found a large burn on her wrist.

"Don't Michael," She winced and widened my eyes at the realization.

I had finally fit one piece of the puzzle and locked eyes with her.

"Your father," I croaked. "He killed your mother in the shed, didn't he?" I frowned when I saw a tear roll down her flushed cheeks. With my index finger, I swiftly wiped them away. "This is your way of taunting your father; to remind him what he's done."

Sarah lowered her gaze back to the candle. "I saw him burn the shed with a candle, while she was inside of it. And why? All because she was trying to change this town Michael," She looked at me- the tears of hers quickly formed from what I could see in the dark. "I failed before, but this time, I'll be with her. My father will be damned with himself," She formed a smile, turning away from me. 

Luckily, I caught her, stepping in front of her.

"Sarah, you can't!" And before she could do anything the wind grew stronger and the wick of the candle died out, leaving both of us in a depiction of silence. Then the wind calmed down also once Sarah realized what she was planning to do; her petite body dropped the candle holder, letting the wick of her demons surrender while she clung to my body, holding onto me for dear life.

"Oh Michael," she sniffled in my arms. While her frail body clung to mine, I kept my sights on the back of her head and the second floor to her bedroom window where I watched the other candle suddenly perish into darkness once and for all.

***

That night I discovered two things: one, Sarah’s mother was a martyr, and her death drove Sarah to the very edge. And two; the Anderson's third shed rotting to the core from moss and all mother nature's creations, was cursed! But it wasn't because of us, but because of Mr. Anderson. I had my theories of the events, and I knew Sarah did too. The only thing that gave me comfort, was the idealization that the ghost of Mrs. Anderson was lurking from the other side, trying to keep her daughter safe and sound from her monster of a husband. Still, when Sarah and I looked back at the shed, we realized that neither the wick of the candle nor trespassers could destroy that third shed.

Even though it's been years and I'm a man now, the people of Render Falls could probably find the shed back at the Anderson's place with the wood still rotten and haunted. And if they looked hard enough, they would find a small plaque with the initials of W.A. in the shed. However, that was only if someone dared to enter the place that was a disappointing reminder that my best friend and now wife tried to take her own life.

 "Good riddance," I said as I turned around, and threw a lit match to the shed, burning the painful memories away, even though the building probably would never turn to ash. 

 When I got into my car, I drove back to freedom, enthralled that Sarah and I could finally live in peace without the reminder of the dreadful events that changed our lives.