Secrets of the Painting

Jett thought when her grandmother died that the thing she would be left with was the memories. She was wrong. She also received an ugly painting that her grandmother’s will insisted went to Jeanette (she had an annoying dedication to using Jett’s actual name) and that it should be passed on through the family. Mostly, Jett had been trying to figure out where to put it so that she didn’t have to look at it. The painting had been kept in her grandmother’s parlor over the fireplace as if it was a grand masterpiece or a work by Leonardo da Vinci. It possessed a woman wearing a shawl that obscured most of her features - except for a pointed nose and one gleaming eye. Her grandmother called her the old woman and would tell Jett the most horrifying stories about how the woman once could pull herself out of the painting and used her crooked fingers to snatch victims, dragging them into the paint-filled world where they were doomed to live out eternity. When Jett visited, she did everything she could to avoid that room. Every time she entered, she felt as if the eyes would follow her. It was probably a result of the horrible stories her grandmother enjoyed telling her. The background featured a squat house nestled in the woods with trees lining the hill, giving the home the appearance of peeking behind the trees. 

“Please, tell me that this thing isn’t going on the wall,” her roommate Starling begged. 

“Are you kidding? I didn’t even like this when it was up on Grandmother Miller’s wall.” Jett shuddered. “She used to tell me that if you look at it just right, you could see taloned fingers coming over the frame.” 

Starling stared at her. “Was it necessary to give me that image?” She frowned, backing up from the painting. “Now I’m going to have nightmares, thank you very much.” 

“Don’t worry, this thing is going to go in a closet where no one is forced to look at it.” True to her word, Jett took the painting and put it in the hall closet, turning it to face the wall. She had no desire to see that thing in the dark. 

–

“So I’m having a minor party,” Starling began when Jett answered her phone. Jett knew where it was going before her roommate even continued. “I know you hate them so I’ll have it all cleared out before you’re home. Maybe we’ll relocate to Judd’s house.” That was her current possible boyfriend that Starling said was still in the stages of being defined. 

“Fine,” Jett reluctantly agreed. “And that’s why you called?”

“Actually,” Starling sounded the word out. “It’s a themed horror party with scary movies and snacks. So I was wondering if I could get Grandmother Miller’s creepy painting out. You know, for decor?” 

“Go for it. I don’t have to look at the thing.” 

“You’re the best.” The two chatted a bit longer about their days before hanging up. Jett returned to shelving books and helping patrons at the desk, putting any thought of party or painting out of her mind.

—

“Star!” Jett called when she returned home later that evening. Her roommate’s car was still in the driveway. As promised, Starling ended her party before Jett got home. The living room had a few remnants left as the only sign. A half-eaten bowl of popcorn was left on the coffee table and a few cans of coke were scattered around the room. She rounded the couch and yelped at the sight of the painting leaning against the front of it. She tried calling her roommate’s name again. The only conclusion was that Starling decided to spend the night with Judd. “She couldn’t put this thing away first.” 

Jett shuddered and carefully returned the painting - doing her best to not look at it - to the closet. She felt more at ease with it turned to the wall and the door shut. Part of her wanted to lock it but she shrugged that thought away, feeling ridiculous. She sent a text thanking Starling and told her she’d see her in the morning. 

—

When Jett awakened, she found the house unusually quiet. There was no loud music blaring on the radio. No singing off-key in the kitchen. No breakfast was on the table. She checked her roommate’s room and found it empty. She picked up her phone and called. A low ringing caught her attention. “Star?” She made her way back into the room and found the phone on the nightstand. Starling wouldn’t go anywhere without her phone accompanying her. 

She ended the call and went to Judd’s name. She waited through five rings in a near panic before he answered. “Judd, have you seen Star?” 

“Last night. We watched a couple of movies and then I left. There’s only so much horror I can do. Why?” 

She quickly explained that Starling wasn’t there when she got home and her phone was in her bedroom. “Did she say anything about going anywhere?”

“No, she said she was going to clean up. Because you don’t do the whole party thing.” She noted a hint of judgment in his voice. 

“Who else was there?” Judd gave her the names and one by one she called them. And one by one each of them said they left and Starling was cleaning up. “Where are you?” She muttered to herself. She wasn’t sure if she should call the police. Or wait for Starling to appear. She paced around the living room where she remembered seeing the painting against the couch. Starling was cleaning up and would have thought to put the painting back. Jett wasn’t sure what led her back to the closet but she carefully opened the door and pulled the painting out, afraid to confirm what was thought in the back of her mind. She turned the painting around and dropped it with a yelp when she met the face of the woman in the shawl. Where an old woman’s face was shrouded with a shawl, now held the face of Starling.