Jennifer. Residence of Grief. Viktor Khorunzhy
though no one ever lived there at this time of the year.
All her body was as if ripen with lead; she had a hard time making every single move, How long had she already been sitting here?
Jennifer closed her eyes, leaning her heavy head against chain links. Once again, she had all events of that terrible evening flashing before her mind’s eye. Blinding light… swerve of the car… grinding brake squeak and a sound of crinkling metal… Then darkness… and awakening at the hospital. Doctors couldn’t stop surprising with how come such a terrible accident could have resulted for the girl in only fainting and getting several bruises and grazes.
Whereas they took their time to let Jenny see her parents – as if late perception of the most terrible thing and delay of unavoidable and painful last encounter could somehow mollify the stroke she had no place to hide from…
Alisson’s pale face under a white hospital bed sheet was unnaturally stiff, as it had already been washed of blood streaks. Tangled hair… Mum would never take the liberty of making a public appearance without a hairdo. If only she was alive… The girl was given a chance to take only a rapid glance at her father – he suffered the clash with a multiton truck badly. The bulk of impact came from the side of a driver’s seat.
Jenny was shaking and gasping the mortuary air sodden with hospital scents, unable to believe two immotile bodies were everything that had left of her parents. Only a couple of hours ago they were sitting in the theatre, dreaming of warm sea, joking and were so… alive! But that was there, in another reality that had frozen on the other side of bright flash of light. In the place her closest, dearest people had been left, now separated from Jennifer by an invisible line drawn by death – forever. Forever… What a terrible word! And on this side Jennifer was all alone.
The girl opened her eyes again – those memories were too painful, they came back each time she was in the cold. Nevertheless, she wanted to see no one at the moment.
She had only dim recollections of today’s funeral – as if it had been not a real event, but just a record on an old film.
Two wooden coffins, the priest’s dull speech, flowers held by few of mum’s and dad’s colleagues with faces she failed to remember – could that possibly be real? Maybe she had just been sleeping and having a long-lasting nightmare?
Just now – what if she had already woken up and everything would be as usually? Dad would be sitting in the living room in front of the TV, and mum would scold her for not having taken her clothes away into the wardrobe.
She had such an unbearable desire to believe in it that, having sprung to her feet, she hastened to her house; however, growing headache discouraged her easy stride. And somehow the sight of a wide open door caused some free-floating anxiety. Having climbed the stairs of the backdoor, Jennifer proceeded to the corridor and entered the living room after having passed through the kitchen.
People were still there – those that had come to honor the memory of their neighbors and friends; of the owners that would never step across the threshold of this house again…
As soon as she entered the living-room, all muffled talks abated and everyone present including the priest turned to her. As if they had been expecting something of her, however Jennifer had no idea what on earth it was. Everything she wanted at the moment was to close the door after herself and see none of those stranger faces…
“How are you, sweetums?” their neighbor, Ms. Walker, appeared at her side. It was a skinny spinster they had never really been friends with, despite they had lived side by side for many years. But now, on the day of the funeral, she behaved as if she had been first on mum’s friend list. A clingy bony hand fell on her shoulder – it should probably stand for comfort.
Without answering anything, Jenny threw the hand off her shoulder silently and ran towards the stairs to the second floor. The girl heard muffled voices from downstairs imagining notes of disapproval in them – they were probably talking about her. But Jennifer didn’t care of it now, just the same as of the fact that she should have been sitting with the guests according to the etiquette rules, hearing out their condolences and thanking for their concern.
However, Jenny didn’t want that at all as all those respectabilities were false and needless – none of the people walking across their living room with their solemnly grieved faces and secretly examining the unshowy, but expensive furnishing was really a friend of their family. And hardly anyone was really mourning about the loss. Now she felt anger for them and for the whole world that had stolen her backing, her carefree and joyous life. Why, why in the world would Ms. Walker continue to walk her dogs every day, watch her series every evening and drink tea, while her young, good looking, lifeful parents would become nothing but a recollection? And she would never – never! – be able to hug them again…
Having got to her room, Jenny closed the door after herself and sat at the window without turning on the light. Voices and sounds were heard from downstairs, but she remained indifferent to them. Even when someone knocked carefully on her door and a female voice informed her that Ms. Walker and Mrs. Brown would stay here for the night for her to feel calmer, Jennifer answered nothing.
She didn’t see any point in observing some stupid proprieties anymore.
Chapter 3
Predators in Darkness
She didn’t know how much time had passed before she started feeling overcome by slumber after all. Without taking her clothes off, Jenny came over to her bed and cuddled in it, hoping to fall asleep. She almost succeeded; however soft sound of steps made her alert. Who could that be at such time? Could one of the neighbors that had decided to stay for the night possibly want to roam the house for some reason?
Nothing was happening for some time. Jennifer dipped into drowsiness, but then steps sounded again. Only this time she thought it was a large dog running down the corridor. Her drowsiness was gone in a split second. Jenny sat in her bed and strained her ears. It didn’t take her to wait long: strange noise sounded again, though this time it seemed there had been two of the animals. Bewildered and frightened, she stood up quietly and approached the door, hesitant to open it.
Suddenly and pitchy in night silence, a blow boomed on the door, making her start back. It was followed by short roaring, as if some unknown beast got infuriated after having run against a barrier. With heart racing in her chest, Jennifer froze in the middle of the room, while monsters began raving on the other side of the door: they were roaring and throwing themselves against the wooden panel obviously not designed to hold such an onslaught. Claws were scratching the floor as if there was no tomorrow; howling and clack of teeth added to the sound.
Jenny was scared stiff. Numerous thoughts raced through her mind in a second, including bewilderment: why in the world didn’t her neighbors that had stayed for the night come rushing up to her until now? For it was simply impossible not to hear what had been going on behind her door. It seemed the terrible noise could even wake people from neighboring houses. But still no one had raced to rescue her…
A blow on the window behind Jennifer made her bounce off to the wall and back against it. What could it be? But the window, just the same as the door, was closed and night misty haze was hiding the invisible threat.
Trying to subdue her jitters, Jenny made two slow steps towards the window – and then froze, unable to make a single move. A huge black raven was sitting on the windowsill. The bird didn’t move and therefore seemed unreal, as if drawn on the damp glass by night itself.
Jenny moved her hand, involuntarily striving to wipe off the ominous silhouette. However, as soon as she moved, the raven flapped its huge wings and beaked the glass again. And suddenly, eyes of this unreal bird blazed up like dying embers in the blackness of the night: the raven stared at the girl with an unspeakable fury.
That was the last straw: obeying to overflowing fear, Jennifer screamed…
Chapter 4
When Home is not a Shelter Anymore
Ms. Walker and Mrs. Brown were sitting on the bed beside Jenny. The girl couldn’t help noticing those telling glances the neighbors shared while she was trying to