"Dream House"
Day 1. Alice Braddock sat bent over and stiff at her computer, her eyes strained to see through her corrective lens as she compulsively chews gum. She examined the latest financials for Braddock Retirement Home or BRH, as it was known in the small waterfront community of Blaine, WA. To the left of her computer sat a silver framed picture of a young Alice, her parents standing solemnly by her side. The slightly faded black and white picture was a constant reminder, a knife that still cut into her side as she typed away. A quick glance at that picture took her back in time. To a time when she was a little girl with big brown eyes and curls that framed her face. Every night, momma would wind her hair up in rags before she went to bed. “Good girls have nice curls” her momma used to say. “Good girls…” that phrase haunted Alice. If she ever disobeyed her momma, Alice was punished. Hard smacks across the face followed by the closet. The closet under the stairs was her momma’s favorite place to discipline her daughter, to correct whichever sin she was sure that Alice had committed. All alone, the blackness insured she would be a “Good Girl.” Sitting in her office, seventy years later, she could still feel the darkness. Part of her was still locked away in that closet. Alice hated those memories and…. She hated her momma.
Alice had inherited the fifty-year-old BRH. One more move by her parents to handcuff her in place. She despised the residents and her employees, all of it. The retirement home was the place of her childhood, forced to work in the kitchen, then on laundry duty. Alice, however, was good at numbers and finances. She had a keen understanding of business, enjoying the solitude of numbers on a page. She worked alongside her parents until their deaths. It was all she knew. She felt locked in, like she was attached to a heavy chain that was dragging her underwater. Her momma had made sure that she couldn’t escape. But there was one thing that lifted Alices spirits up every day, allowing her to grasp fresh air. One final rebellion against her momma. She had started skimming the books.
It had started out small, innocent at first. Alice had started looking for cheaper food items for the kitchen. Scrounging for the best deals on everything from dishwashing soap to cheaper tomatoes. Innocent. She quickly learned she could reduce her costs, but still charge the same for her residents. She never adjusted in their favor, only in hers. She adjusted Medicare costs too. She falsified records and kept her staff to a minimum. She was not one to give her employees any pay increases, knowing they wouldn’t quit since jobs were few and far between in their town. She did it all to keep her pocketbook happy. She justified it by telling herself she deserved it. Rubbing her neck, she looked up and noticed the long shadows that filled the room. Clicking off the light, she shut down her computer and headed home.
Day 2. Alice woke up with a start. The morning rays were just beginning to fill the sky with pink and blue as the sun began to rise. Sweat covered her face. What had she been dreaming about? She tried to recall it. Visions of a house, a dark house was all she could remember. Was it her childhood home? The dream had faded, but she still felt the leftovers of dread. Rubbing her eyes, she stood up out of bed, her night gown untangling itself from her legs as her bones cracked in protest. She got ready for the day.
“Here’s yesterday’s mail” said Marlene the front desk person at BRH. Alice walked in wearing a no-nonsense beige rain jacket with a plastic rain hat that was tied neatly in a bow under her chin. She hated getting her hair wet, especially since it was just set at the beauty salon two days ago. Marlene offered a smile to Alice, trying to win the old lady over with friendliness that didn’t extend beyond her practiced, sunny expression. No one could get along with Alice.
“By the way, the new ID bracelets for the residents arrived the other day. Some are complaining that they irritate their wrists and are uncomfortable” Marlene said. She wished she could tell Alice to shove the bracelets where the sun didn’t shine, but she needed this job.
“Ok, so.” Alice said while looking over the pile of bills and advertisements in her hand. “
“They say the old ID bracelets were better.”
Alice looked up and cast a withering look at the young girl with mousy brown hair standing in front of her. “The old bracelets were twice the cost. The new ones are fine. The residents will get over it.” She turned and closed the door to her office. Marlene, in an act of defiance, flipped her the bird, then return to her work.
Day 3. Alice was standing outside a large house cast in shadows, dark windows staring out at her like eyes on a corpse. She thought she knew this house but couldn’t place it. Blackness seeped down the steps in the shape of billowy smoke. She swallowed hard, then walked up to the front door and slowly opened it….
Alice sat straight up in her bed, heart beating as if to escape the confines of her chest. It was the same dream, same house. The memory of the dream caused a shiver to course through her body. She felt an emotion she had imagined was long gone and buried deep inside of her. It was fear. She pushed back a piece of gray hair out of her face as she thought to herself “When was the last time she had been afraid?”
“Good morning, Alice” smiled Maureen with her welcoming expression that Alice that annoyed Alice every time she saw it.
“What’s so good about it” said Alice as she blew by Maureen, heading directly into her office. She hadn’t been able to shake off the feeling of foreboding all morning long. There was one thing that always made her feel better, finding more ways to cut costs and defer the savings to herself. Padding her own checking account would take the edge off of her morning anxiety.
“Maureen” bellowed Alice; her nerves pulled tight like a violin string getting ready to pop. “Bring me coffee. I need it today.” She was becoming afraid of sleep.
That night, Alice continued drinking coffee, swearing that she was not going to fall asleep. She decided to pop some caffeine pills along with a cappuccino night cap. Switching on the television, she settled down to a series of Seinfeld reruns. She just about made it, until 5 am when her eyelids betrayed her, and she fell into a fitful sleep.
Day 4. Alice was inside the dark house. She could smell decay, like death. She looked down at the threadbare carpet, so thin she could make out the thick wood flooring underneath. She walked by a closet, not unlike the closet of her childhood. She quickened her pace as she began to climb up the steps to the second floor. She knew she was asleep. She kept trying to wake herself up but couldn’t. She turned and faced what looked to be a bedroom. She entered. The door slowly closed behind her. She sat down on a bed, dust bunnies bouncing around her, wrapping her in a cocoon of dirt, dead skin, and decay. A scraping noise made her jump out of her skin causing a ragged breath to escape from between her lips. She looked over to the bedroom door and saw the knob twisting back and forth. With a creak, the door slowly opened. Something that looked to be human slipped in. One long arm, wrinkled with black bruises visible under the skin reached for her. The thing spoke in a voice that sounded like broken glass. “Alice, what sin have you committed? Is it time to go to the closet?” It took one step towards Alice, small rags falling from its hand. That last thing Alice saw was an ID bracelet with the letters BRH circling a bony wrist. Her mouth opened and she let out a scream.
Day 5. “She’s in here Captain.” Officer Boyd looked at the body of Alice Braddock. She was slumped over, as if she were sound asleep. He noticed something in her right hand. A bright, shiny ID bracelet with the letters BRH on it. Tiny rags were twisted in her hair.
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