Authors: April Sadowski
Tags: #romance, #thriller, #paranormal, #time travel, #teen adventure, #scienc fiction
Then she heard what sounded like sliding
panels directly behind her, she couldn’t tell whether they were
wood or stone, and then a creaking noise. “What the hell?!” she
exclaimed, turning around. “The door just disappeared. This is
nuts.”
“This is out of time.” a man said, and Sasha
could have sworn he just
appeared
from nowhere.
“Who the hell are you?” Sasha asked, as if
hell was becoming a regular part of her vocabulary. She made a
mental note to expand it.
“Mankus Everidge, how do you do?” the man
answered with a bow, introducing himself. As she looked him over,
she realized his clothing was incredibly outdated.
Was
he
a ghost too?
Sasha went back to the man’s question,
regarding her health and general well-being.
“Not really that great right now. Where did
you come from?” Sasha wondered, although part of her wanted to ask
him “when”, rather than “where”.
As if nothing was out of the ordinary, Mankus
replied. “I came from here. I haven’t left. Welcome to my house.”
His house? As if anyone could live in such a place. Is this what
the school was before it was a school? Someone’s house? Maybe
Mankus is still a ghost.
Sasha shuddered at the thought.
“Your house? This is a school.” she told
him.
“I’ve heard that one before.” Mankus replied
with a light chuckle.
“By who?” Sasha wondered.
“A girl called Betsy, many years ago.” he
told her honestly. A shiver ran up Sasha’s spine.
“What do you mean by ‘many years ago’? She’s
only been missing a year. At least, if we are talking about the
same Betsy.” Sasha said to him.
“A year in your time. Not
mine
.”
Mankus told her. As the candle light danced over his face, she
noticed the corner of his mouth upturn into an almost sinister
smirk.
“Mister...Mankus...whatever you are called,
how do I get out of here? What happened to the attic?” she asked
him.
“As I said, this is a place out of time. Your
school — your attic — may not exist outside of this place, my
house.” Mankus said, his face as unmoving as stone.
“What do you mean? What about my friends — my
mom?” Sasha asked franticly. She couldn’t even begin to fathom the
rest of her life in this dark, dreary, and creepy house...living
with a strange man.
Mankus looked down, sadness reaching into his
face. “You’ll be lucky to ever see them again.”
“Where’s Betsy, then?” Sasha wondered.
If
she isn’t here, she must be outside the house.
“She found her way back, so to speak.” Mankus
replied.
“Can you stop giving me answers in forms of
riddles?” Sasha said tensing up as her nerves ran on edge. Mankus
raised an eyebrow.
“Go over to the corner there and tell me what
you see. I know you have the gift. Hardly anyone without it ever
comes here. I have learned to interpret.” Mankus told her. “Perhaps
learning isn’t the right word. I’ve acquired a skill. You will see
words in this place, but I will see images.”
“The gift? You mean the feelings I get? The
things I see sometimes?” Sasha inquired.
“Impressions of the past and future.
Premonitions at times — yes.”
“Fine. I’ll go over.” Sasha said reluctantly.
While Sasha crossed the room, wood creaking underfoot, Mankus took
a seat nearby. Sasha stared at the corner. Nothing. Then, all of a
sudden she started to see words forming in her mind. It was almost
as if someone was trying to communicate with her.
If these are
impressions, what are they from?
“I see three words.”
“What are the words?” Mankus asked, his voice
solemn and almost distant, as if he wasn’t really all that
interested.
“The first is art. The second is grease. The
third is judge.” Sasha told him. Mankus breathed in deeply, tilting
his head back.
“Ah.” he said to her.
“What does that mean?” she asked him quickly,
unnerved at his attitude.
“She left this place and became an artist.”
Mankus stated. Sasha’s eyebrows drew up in a bunch on her forehead
as she was thrown into puzzlement.
“But she’s only a teenager. How could she
possibly become an artist without proper instruction? Her work
couldn’t have been that developed.” Sasha said. Sure, there were
some stellar art students who could have made a living from their
work, but it was one of those crafts where you really had to be
great for anyone to notice you and she’d never heard of Betsy and
her amazing artistic talent.
“No, you’re right. She failed. She had to
work in a kitchen. Hence the grease, your second word.” Mankus
explained. Sasha still had no clue as to how he knew all these
things. He said he learned to interpret. How?
“What about the word ‘judge’?” she asked.
“There was a fire.” Mankus told her, his eyes
growing wide, as if he was seeing all that had happened in his own
mind. “She became badly burned and the fire was a result of poor
maintenance. She sued the restaurant and the judge awarded her
millions.”
“So, she’s all set then?” Sasha asked,
thinking how Betsy couldn’t possibly want to come back after being
a millionaire
“Yes, if you wish to call it so.”
“When did all of this happen?” Sasha
wondered.
“Your future perhaps. Or
maybe
your
past. Who knows?” Mankus said mysteriously. Sasha huffed. She
wasn’t going to get anywhere with him, she knew.
“Then how do I get back?” she asked the
man.
“You can wait for a door to appear, or try
and find the one you originally came through. I can’t guarantee
you’ll find your way back.” he said to her. His tone then became
even more solemn and much quieter. “Sometimes they never do. They
just get...lost.”
“Were the people outside the attic door lost?
Betsy was there and she found her way out.” Sasha mentioned.
“Out of time.” Mankus added. “She didn’t end
up where she
should
be. Her imprint is yearning for her past
life. The one she was
supposed
to live.”
“I don’t know if I believe in all that. What
if she’s been here this whole time?” Sure, it could be true. It
didn’t explain how exactly this whole place appeared out of a
closet, but there were plenty of creeps in the world and capturing
young girls might be right up someone’s alley.
“You can try to find her.” Mankus offered and
provided more instruction. “Just be wary of the doors in this
house. Some lead nowhere. Some lead out of here. Some lead to
another room in the house. They are always changing.”
“Can you help me find my way back?” Sasha
wondered. Mankus looked down at the ground, blinking slowly.
“I could...but then I would be lonely
again.”
“Why can’t
you
leave?” she asked him,
noticing the pain that has started to stretch across his face. She
wondered how old he was.
“The doors don’t lead anywhere for me.” he
told her and she could tell he was telling the truth.
His
truth anyway.
“None of them?” Sasha asked, her jaw
dropping.
“In the house, they are all
to
the
house. The exterior doors all lead to a closet. Only for me.” he
told her. No wonder he was sad.
“Where are the windows? I’ve seen some here
and there. It’s too dark to see what’s out there.” Sasha said.
“Oh yes!” Mankus said, his face perking up.
“Sometimes the windows show what is on the other side of the door.
If
you can find a window and see what’s on the other
side.”
Sasha was trying to process it all. She was
stuck in a place between time, with a man who was stuck
in
time, and with hardly any way to get out of her predicament.
Suppose I found a window and door. What would I do? What if it
was the wrong time, like Betsy? How long had Mankus been trapped
here? He had to have parents.
“What
time
are you from?” she finally
asked him.
“I...don’t know.” Mankus said to her. “I’ve
been here since I was a child.”
Sasha shuddered at the thought of a child
being all alone in this depressing house. “A child? How old were
you?”
“Ten. I don’t know what happened exactly. All
I know is my parents went to go to the market and never came back.
When I went looking for them I realized all doors led to closets.
I’ve met people who tried to give an explanation of why this is
happening, but I’ve given up trying to fight this prison.” Mankus
told her, releasing a lonely sigh.
“Where do you get food? Supplies? Candles?”
Sasha asked, feeling that even though she was talking to an adult,
his still hadn’t matured from being left as a child. He still
wanted human interaction and friendship, the basic necessities of
human sanity.
“Through the doors. Whenever I open a door, I
always find something I need on the closet floor.” he said.
“So it’s almost like you were
chosen
to be here?” Sasha assessed, trying to provide some comfort that
his situation wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
“I guess I’m the caretaker of time.” Mankus
said softly.
“Time travel, more like.” Sasha laughed
nervously.
“Are you going to go, then?” Markus wondered,
his voice strained. His eyes started to glaze over, as if he was
fighting tears.
“I have to. I have to find my way back.
They’ll all be looking for me.” Sasha said to him, but he shook his
head, as if she didn’t understand.
“Unless you find your present time, but
that’s very rare.” Mankus said solemnly.
“Do people ever get lost and then come back
to you?” Sasha inquired. Mankus nodded quickly.
“That’s what happened to Betsy. I’m not sure
if she found her way back to her own time though. It was, at least,
close enough I’d say.”
“Well
I
am ready to get back.” Sasha
stated, feet firmly planted in front of her.
“Look for the windows then.”
“Okay.” Sasha said, her voice just above a
whisper as she looked around her surroundings.
As Sasha moved through the house, careful to
not disturb any lit candles, she heard sliding sounds, very similar
to the ones that made the door behind her disappear as she first
entered the house out of time. She walked tentatively on the wooden
floors of the house, reaching out when the darkness consumed her,
trying to find any semblance of the trim of a door or window.
“So I’ve got to be careful about which door I
go through. Hmm.” Sasha said, to herself, but audibly. A few doors
and windows appeared for her, some windows looked through to the
other side, but the other side was brick. In what seemed like an
instant, the room lit up and she was able to see a window appear.
The window was responsible for the sudden cast of light.
“Okay, there’s a window. Hey! That’s my
school. It’s so weird how it’s surrounded by fields. I don’t see
any houses.” Sasha said, looking through. The building was old,
maybe 1930s, before they started building the houses around there.
Much of what Sasha recognized was missing and she realized, just
before it “slid” away, that it must have been the original school,
before they demolished most of it to expand to what she attended.
“There it goes. I wonder how long it will take to find
another.”
Sasha moved around the room again, trying to
find a way across into another room, when she heard a sliding
sound. As she turned, she noticed the school again, and the sun was
shining brightly through. “It looks right. The houses are there and
the additions are in place. Looks like my stop! Now I’ve got to
find a door.” It didn’t take her long to find one, as the doors and
windows had a tendency to appear together.
Sasha opened the door and was greeted with
the warm glow of the sun. “I so hope I’m in the right time now.”
she said, breathless. In truth, she should have been more careful.
She might have realized that the sun should have been going down
instead of glowing so brightly in the sky. As the door shut behind
her, she turned and noticed the house was completely gone.
“Shouldn’t you be in school?” she heard a man
say behind her. She turned back and saw a uniformed police officer
standing in front of her on the sidewalk she was also apparently
standing on. She only came up to the middle of his chest and
wondered how tall he was.
Maybe eight feet?
That didn’t make
much sense, but she shrugged it off. Nothing was making much sense
lately and Sasha wanted to almost pinch herself to make sure she
wasn’t dreaming, as if it would even work.
“Huh?” Sasha asked, puzzled.
The police officer looked down at his watch
and stretched his arm out so she could see it. “It’s ten in the
morning. Classes have started, haven’t they?”
“Oh. Yea.” Sasha said to him, calmly, not
wanting to make trouble. In the back of her mind she was terrified.
It couldn’t have been later than six or seven at night when I
entered Mankus’ house. How could it be ten in the morning?