Buried in Sunshine (28 page)

“I would want do the same for you if our
situations were reversed,” Alexis says as she nods. “In a way, I’m
going home…I guess. We were never meant to be permanent things. I
realized that is how life is for everyone—only I know when my end
will come. I’m grateful for the time I had.”

“I wish things could have turned out
differently,” Emma says as she begins to feel deeply upset. She
tried to barter for a better deal, but the sun would offer nothing
else. “I wish we had more time to talk, I hate that we had
animosity between us.”

“I’m just full of bad memories…I would have been
a terrible companion,” Alexis says as she shakes her head. “It’s
best that I go.”

“I hope I can be as brave as you two are,
someday.”

“Be brave,” Alexis says as she places her hand
against Emma’s shoulder. “In life, whenever the opportunity
comes—be brave.”

“I will,” Emma whispers. “I promise.”

A knock on the door interrupts their sad moment.
Emma rushes out of the room and heads down the stairs, followed by
Alexis. She opens the door; there is no hesitation as there is
nothing further to fear. After all, the worst lies ahead in that
tunnel.

“I’m here for the end of the world party,” Ethan
says in a slight drawl. The smell of alcohol is heavy on his breath
as he stumbles in with a few boxes of pizza in one hand and a giant
box of canned beer in the other.

“Ethan…?” Emma says, surprised that he has
decided to show up. “The world isn’t ending…”

“I would have been here earlier,” Ethan says as
he sets down the beer on a stable part on the hallway floor. He
looks down into the basement. ‘Forgot about all that mess… anyway
would have been here earlier, but my tools were stolen a few days
ago—I filed a police report and they found my sledgehammer buried
in the hood of a cop car that someone abandoned along the side of a
road out in the country…know anything about that?”

“Nope,” Emma whispers.

“Not a single thing.” Alexis adds as she looks
to Emma and represses a smile.

“Did you drive here in your condition?” Emma
asks as she grows furious at Ethan for his recklessness.

“What does it matter?” Ethan adds as he attempts
to make his way to where the kitchen once was and sets the pizza
boxes down on the edge of a table that precariously hangs above the
series of platforms. “It’s all over tomorrow right?”

“It’s not over.” Alexis says. “Not for you—or
Emma, or Justine.”

“Well then don’t I look like a dick?”

“Just relax,” Emma says as she helps Ethan up
the stairs as Alexis follows behind.

“Ethan?” Justine asks as she emerges from Emma’s
room to see the stumbling man attempt to ascent the spiral
staircase.

“Hey…” Ethan says in an obnoxious tone. “Do you
want a beer? They’re downstairs.”

“I don’t drink,” Justine answers shortly as she
returns to the room to be with Hope.

Emma helps Ethan into her room and lays her down
against her bed. “Just sober up...how long have you been drinking
anyway?”

“How many hours has it been since lunch?”

“You mean noon?”

“Sure,” Ethan adds.

“About eight and half,” Emma says as she shakes
her head.

“About eight…and a half…” Ethan repeats. “You’ve
got a very comfortable bed. I like couches though. It’s harder to
fall out of a couch. I like hammocks as well.”

“That’s really interesting,” Alexis says
sarcastically.

“Is he sick?” Hope asks as she sits on the floor
next to Justine.

“He’s just an idiot right now,” Alexis says as
she shrugs her shoulders. “It’ll pass.”

The sun shines dimly through the curtains of
Emma’s room as a single beam of light passes through the small
opening. Particles of dust dance in the beam as everyone, except
Ethan, looks to the last ray of sunlight.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Justine says as she
places her arms around Hope.

“I have to go now…” Hope whispers as she looks
to Alexis.

“Yep kiddo,” Alexis says with a nod. “Here, take
my hand—it won’t be so bad.”

“I’ll see you in soon,” Emma says as she leans
in and gives Alexis a hug, she then reaches down and places her
arms around Hope’s small form. “Both of you…”

“Elizabeth should be here,” Justine says.

“She’s sleeping,” Alexis says as she looks sadly
as the last beam of light fades away turning the room a shade of
grey. “It’s better to go out that way.”

Emma looks away as the painful process begins to
unfold. She remembers how it was for her—the intense burning, the
pain. She only had to endure it one night.

Justine begins to cry as the final embers
disappear into the evening light. Emma walks over to Justine and
places her hand to her back and begins to rub her back
reassuringly. “It’ll be alright.”

Emma looks to Ethan, who has passed out
completely. “Well, I was going to offer you this bed.”

“I don’t think I could even sleep,” Justine says
as she looks to Emma as fresh tears stream down from her eyes. “I
know what Hope is. I just can’t help but feel sad.”

“Hope is who I was when I was happiest—or the
most innocent,” Emma adds. “Terrible things happened to me right
around her age, things that I didn’t even remember because I had
blocked them away. She helped me remember, both her and
Alexis.”

“All I see is a person—a young girl.”

“I feel the same way,” Emma says as she looks to
the darkness that is encroaching outside the window. “I feel that
way about all of them. I would keep them safe—but the price would
be too heavy.”

“I know…” Justine says as she wipes away the
tears from her eyes. “I’ll still have you though, right?”

“Of course,” Emma says with a laugh. “We’re
friends.”

“You’ll paint with me?”

“I’d love to learn,” Emma says as she leads
Justine out of her old room and shuts the door. “If you’d want to
re-teach me, I would be happy to paint with you.”

“She paints the strangest things,” Justine says
as she attempts to break away her sadness with a smile, “She
painted a dolphin…in space.”

“Like I said,” Emma says as she laughs. “I was
an odd kid.”

Emma opens the door to her attic bedroom and
gestures to the bed. “You should try and rest—I have a feeling
we’re going to be up very early.”

Justine nods as she walks over to the bed and
plops down allowing a sigh to escape. “What will you do?”

“There’s something I have to take care of,” Emma
says as she feels drawn down to the basement. “After that, I will
try and rest.”

“Alright,” Justine says as she pulls the blanket
up to her knees as she sits up in bed. “Take care of yourself, I’ll
see you tomorrow.”

“Take care,” Emma says as she nods. “Try and
rest.”

Emma shuts the attic room door and begins to
descend the spiral staircase. There is something on her mind that
has bothered her from the very beginning, that strange room with
the stone slab—the one that gives her shivers of fear every time
she passes it. Emma navigates her way down the platforms, careful
to not slip and fall. It is as though someone attempted to make a
series of cliffs to climb down, but disregarded to make it safe in
the least bit. Bits of broken splintered wood jut out dangerously.
Some of the platforms slope forward; others are covered with
protruding nails from the wooden floor. Emma’s feet finally reach
concrete as she begins to head down the hallway. She takes the
first turn. A strange feeling of dread overwhelms her and begs her
to return to the safety of the upper floors of the house. As Emma
enters the concrete room with the stone slab on the middle, her
anxiety has grown exponentially. Her pulse is racing.

“What is it about this room?” Emma asks herself
aloud as she paces around the stone slab, she runs her fingers
across the smooth surface. Different flashes of memory play in her
head, slaughtered pigs being cut apart—their corpses hanging from
hooks in the large wooden beam at the far end of the wall. Emma was
sure this was probably real, but how did it relate to her? An idea
came to Emma’s mind as she crawled up and sat against the cold slab
of stone.

“Well…” Emma says as she takes a breath in and
attempts to calm her panicking mind. “I suppose there is one way to
find out.”

Emma places her back against the smooth surface
of the stone. Through her thin white dress her body shivers against
the slab. Emma rests her head uncomfortably against the completely
flat surface. She brings her hand up her head and whispers a simple
command. “Sleep…”

Day 7

Chapter 8: Re-acceptance

Emma awakens from a fitful night of sleep. Her
mind is confused. She does not remember what she is doing here—or
how she got here. Panic overcomes her as she realizes that for a
moment, she cannot remember who she is. The only thing she does
know, or feel rather, is that she has to get out of the house.

Emma stands in front of her door; she puts her
ear to it as though she anticipates something terrible. When
nothing but silence is heard, Emma feels that it is safe to venture
out of the house. She tiptoes past her father’s office, careful
that the floorboard does not creak and give away the fact that she
is awake. She does not understand why she is so fearful.

Once clear, Emma passes the bathroom and rushes
down the spiral staircase as swift as her small feet will carry
her. She runs through the red hallway and opens up the door and
slams it behind her. As she circles the house and begins to run
into the woods, she hears the voice of her father as he emerges
from the house.

“Emma?” The voice booms. “You’re not to leave
the house!”

Emma senses that she is doing something
wrong—she quickens her pace as she hears footsteps in the brush
following her. She runs and runs until she squeezes through her
secret passage in the tall brush and enters the thick forest.

“Emma!” The voice booms off in the distance.

Emma stops to rest just outside of the
greenhouse filled with plants and flowers. Catching her breath, she
pauses and places her hands upon the warm glass; the sun is
reflected through the trees and shines brightly against the
panel.

“Emma!” Her father’s voice yells. He is growing
closer.

Emma runs into the greenhouse. She looks for a
hiding place. She spots the bed in the corner of the room. She
crawls beneath the bed. Curiously, Emma spots a white box that has
been stuffed into an empty spot carved out beneath mattresses and
the wooden frame. Emma takes the box and opens it—she finds a
silver knife with the letters ‘SOL’ engraved on the blade.

“Where are you?” Her father’s voice says as he
nears the entrance of the greenhouse.

Emma wraps the knife in her dress and ties it in
a knot. She crawls out just as her father spots her from outside
the window.

“Stop…!” Her father shouts.

Emma begins to run down the hallway. Her father
follows a distance behind her. Emma continues to run as fast as she
can—desperate to not get caught. As she reaches the end of the
hallway she is met with a bricked off wall.

“No…” Emma whimpers as she pounds her fists
against the wall. She is boxed in, and her father is swiftly
approaching her. Emma places all of her weight against the wall, it
does not budge. She looks to the right of her and begins to strike
her fists against the brick—it makes a strange hollow sound. Emma
places her small weight against the brick wall and it gives away,
opening up like a door as it squeaks on its hinges.

Emma runs with her hands outstretched in the
darkness as she attempts to navigate her way in the hidden hallway
that she has found. Her heart pounds in her chest as she hears
footsteps approach. Emma begins to run blindly, her arms scraping
against the rough rock. Emma charges through another door as she
finds herself in the basement of the house. She attempts to close
the false brick door behind her, but finds that there is no handle.
She can hear her father as he rustles his way through the darkened
hall. Emma begins to run, she heads into the closest room she can
find—a room that has a large stone slab in the center. She runs
into the room and cowers behind it the stone table.

“Where are you?” Her father asks as he enters
the basement. “You should know better than to disobey me.”

He rounds the corner and enters the room.
“You’re in here, aren’t you?”

Emma tries to keep as quiet as she possibly can.
The footsteps echo in the room as he approaches closer. A hand
reaches from around the table and grabs her by the collar of her
dress. Her father lifts her up into the air and drops her down onto
the table, knocking the air out of her lungs.

“You want to play games?” Her father asks as he
climbs atop the table and inches closer to Emma. “Is this how you
want it?”

Emma attempts to back away as her father places
his hands upon her dress and begins to pull up. He does not notice
the weight of the blade she has tied up. His mind is elsewhere.
With one hand her father pins her down against the cold stone slab.
With the other he reaches to Emma’s legs and pulls down her
panties. Emma’s free hand fumbles with the makeshift knot that she
has tied; she manages to undo the knot as the dress and grasps the
silver blade.

“It didn’t have to be this way,” her father says
as he pushes down against her causing her pinned arm to flare out
in pain. “You could have just waited in your room and it would have
been over—it’s going to be so much worse because you tried to
run.”

Just as the man attempts to force his body upon
her, Emma grasps the knife tightly and thrusts it with all of her
might into her father’s stomach. Her hand feels warm as the
sickening flow of blood begins to cover her hand. It begins to drip
on her bare legs as he collapses to the side against the table.
Emma drops down to the floor. A trail of crimson blood flows down
from the table and begins to seep into a drain on the floor. She
peeks over the edge of the table, her father is shuddering. His
body is shaking. He attempts to make a noise but only gurgles up
more blood. He attempts to reach the knife that has been completely
submerged into his stomach. Before his fingertips can reach the
handle, he stops moving completely.