I never expected to make it out and, to be fair, I never even realized I was in it to begin with. Back then, it all seemed normal and justifiable, but now it is clear the abuse I had endured.
It’s crazy to think how someone can have so much control over another, even your thoughts stop being your own to become theirs.
I’m glad I was able to escape, and glad to say that all that is behind me. He’s now gone from my life and miles away from me. Now, I’m safe.
To new beginnings! is what the Realtor and I rose our glasses to. …And freedom, I remember adding before taking a sip of the sweet rosé. It was fresh, making me feel good, happy even.
Before I hadn’t been allowed to drink, only he had that privilege…
After a little more small talk, I finally bid Janine goodbye. She was nice, and I won’t deny her help in getting this place, but it was her job and I was her client, not her friend and at that moment I wanted to be with those who truly cared for me, Myself.
As soon as she was out into the driveway I locked the door, both in the key as well as the deadbolt that I order installed prior to the move. It was my home now and no one would be getting in without my consent. Finally, I was in charge of my life, every aspect of it. Never again I would live under someone else’s rule.
I placed the used cups in the washer and left the kitchen, passing through the dining room into the living room, where I sat on the couch, enjoying the silence that ruled over the house, my house.
It felt good saying it and it felt wonderful being alone, free, and independent.
The phone rang disturbing the sweet silence whilst making me jump. I let it ring for a while, not wanting to speak with anyone, but the ringing persisted and soon it started to make me feel anxious, so I stormed back into the kitchen where I’d left my phone.
“What do you want!?” I asked as soon as I placed the phone to my ear.
“ Hello Hanna I j-”
“I told you already, it’s Sophia now!” I interrupted harshly. It wasn’t fair that I was the one who had to change my name, I thought bitterly as I corrected my mother.
My mom sighed, she didn’t like the change either, but it was my life, my new life and I lived how I wanted, not how others wished I would.
“Sophia… I was just calling to check up on you, it,s your first night alone after 15 years and I wanted t-”
”I’m doing just fine on my own.” I again interrupted her, again with the same bitterness.
“If is just that what you wanted to say to me, it’s said. I’m tired and I want to go to bed…” I lied.
I heard my mom sighing again, making me wonder if I was being too harsh with her, cruel even, but the thought quickly vanished as I reminded myself how passive she’d been during my years in captivity. It’s true that I never talked with her about it, but a mother knows, she must’ve!
“OK dear, go rest then. Call me if you need anything, I can be there on the weekend if you’d like,” she said hopefully. I denied her right away though, I didn’t need her, not anymore.
I returned to my couch, but I could no longer find the peace I had moments before. There was something about talking with her that irritated me, and why did she have to call me Hanna? Hanna is gone! She knows this well, why keep insisting on reviving that dead ghost?
Declaring my soiree ruined I decided to go to bed.
In my pajamas and already tucked in, I realized that I wasn’t feeling sleepy, I glanced over the clock on my nightstand and saw that it was not even 11 pm. I thought about returning to the living room and watching a movie but then I remembered that I still had no media service in this house.
“A book!” I shouted with excitement as I sprung out of bed and darted downstairs. I liked to read, although for a while I had stopped, for 15 years to be more precise.
My favorite genre was mystery sprinkled with a bit of horror and as far as I knew King was king.
I rummaged through a box that I knew had some old but good ones. As I found them I retrieved them from within the box, spreading them across the floor. Once all were out I stared at them, picking them at random to inspect their covers as I tried to decide for one of them.
“I’ve never finished this one…” I said as I stared at a bright red-covered book titled - Lisey’s Story.
Satisfied, I returned upstairs back to the cover of my blankets.
The marker was still inside it, marking not only the page I left unfinished but also the last time I’d been free. Back then I was still Hanna, young and full of dreams, how did I allow myself to be caged in such a way? I wondered, feeling my hands quivering as a mix of anger and sadness swirled within me.
Taking a short breath I yanked the marker away from the book and tossed it to the other side of the room.
“I’m not weak anymore!” I muttered as I opened the first page.
King is king, no one can question that, because, after almost 2h, sleep was still nowhere near me, only a voracious appetite to devour page after page.
It felt so good to read again, to put my mind to work and release my imagination that had been trapped for so long.
It came suddenly. A loud bang that exploded in my ears, making me jump and send the book into the air.
“What was that!?” I croaked, feeling my chest throbbing like there was a hummingbird inside it fluttering its winds.
Decisively, I pushed the blankets away and jumped out of bed. I was not weak anymore.
Despite my quivering heart, I walked out of the room with confidence, turning on the lights as I inspected the house.
Nothing in the bathroom, nothing in the spare room, nothing in the living room, kitchen, pantry, nothing anywhere. Where had that sound come from?
Putting on a coat I unlocked the door and walked around the house, looking for anything that could’ve produced the sound and again I found nothing.
“Is anyone there!? I shouted from my porch, regretting not having brought my cell phone to use as a flashlight. Only silence responded, and more nervous than before, I returned back in, locking the door behind me.
I did another quick inspection around the house, just in case there had been something I’d missed and again, I came up short.
I returned to my bedroom, no longer feeling as confident as I had been when I came out.
Now, something felt wrong and I felt watched. This made me feel small and weak like Hanna had been, but I was not Hanna anymore.
“I’m Sophia and I’m not afraid!” I yelled at the empty room.
The clock marked 1:10 AM, but I still felt wide awake, in fact, I felt more so than before. Nevertheless, I picked up the book that had fallen to the floor and gently placed it on the nightstand.
Tucked in and ready to slumber I finally reached for the lamp’s switch but then I paused taking a quick look around. The feeling of being watched was still there, a foolish sensation since I made sure no one was inside the house, but it was there nonetheless and it was impossible to ignore.
With the light still on, I rolled to the other side, forcing my eyes shut in hopes I’d get some sleep.
The next day came and went quickly, It had been years since I had a job and despite its menial nature I truly enjoyed doing it. It was great seeing and interacting with different people, and despite the laborious chores, I spent the day with a bright smile on my face. Still, I longed for the comfort of home as well as its solitude, because despite the friendly faces and idle chit-chat, there was something that still felt wrong in me, unsafe. So at 5 pm I stripped my uniform and darted towards home. The commute was short and in minutes I was finally on my couch sipping rosé and staring contently at the blank TV screen.
The quietude felt good and peaceful, it was such a jarring difference when compared to my previous life of shouts, demands, and beatings.
“I’m Sophia now!” I said, forcing my head to flush away those tormenting memories of when I was Hanna.
My tranquility was soon interrupted when suddenly the doorbell rang. It startled me, making my whole body shake but thankfully, my glass was already empty so no drop had fallen into my immaculate beige couch. That would have been a tragedy.
I walked towards the door and peeked through the peephole and saw a woman there. She was about the same age as my mother, with long curly red hair, and like my mothers used to do on most occasions, she was wearing a silky blouse with an offensively bright jungle pattern. Just looking at it made me feel irritated.
“Hello?” I said from inside. “Can I help you?”
“Hey there, I’m Judith, your neighbor. I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” the woman said in a perky voice.
I, ignoring my instincts, unlocked the door to open it slightly. Still, I kept my foot glued behind it just in case Judith decided to ram it open.
“I’m ha-Sophia,” I said, berating myself for that Freudian slip. “Nice to meet you.”
“I would invite you in, but it’s all a mess, I don’t even have a place to properly sit.” I lied.
“It’s fine, it’s fine, don’t you worry. I just stopped by so you get to know my face and tell you that if you need anything, anything at all, to jump on over.” Judith said as she pointed towards the house across the street.
“I know it’s hard to be a single lady all by yourself sometimes, I’ve been one since Chester left us 12 years ago, so please stop by whenever you want.” the woman added with a wide smile on her face.
“ Will do!” I said forcing some excitement in my tone.
“Good, we girls need to stick together,” she said and turned around waving her hand as she strolled back towards her house.
As soon as she was out of sight, I closed the door, locking it shut.
I went to bed early that evening, looking forward to my date with Mr. King, and just like the night before, I couldn’t let go of Lisey’s story.
It was a compelling tale that spoke to me in so many ways, I just couldn’t let go of it until I’d reached its conclusion.
Hours passed with me devouring word after word until despite my voracious appetite, I just couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.
Upset with my lack of stamina I closed the book, placing it neatly on the stand, and reached for the switch, this time pressing it.
I tossed in bed for a while until I finally found a comfortable position, and as soon as I was in it I felt my consciousness slowly drift away into the realm of dreams.
My journey stopped as I was abruptly awake by the same sound as of last night. A loud bang, like a door being shut violently.
I jolted out of bed with my heart racing much faster than it had been in the previous night.
2 times in a row? That’s a pattern!” I concluded as I moved towards the corridor, each step taken with nervous hesitation.
“Who’s there!?” I shouted from the door, again receiving only silence.
Now, I no longer welcomed the quietude, it made me nervous as if something would suddenly jump from it.
Tension rose in me as I walked along the corridor toward the lower floor. This time I didn’t stop to check every nook and cranny up there, since I was sure the sound came from below.
As I climbed down the stairs, another bang echoed in the dark. I felt backward as I was hit by the sudden dread that came upon me.
“Who’s there?!” I repeated, this time with a trembling voice on the verge of tears.
“I’m not Hanna anymore!” I said to myself. “I’m no longer afraid!” I declared out loud, forcing myself back up and towards the lower floor.
Turning every light switch I could find, I inspected the house looking for the invader, grabbing an umbrella along the way that I held forward the same way a samurai would hold a Katana.
Like the previous night, there was no one there, and all the doors to the outside were locked with the deadbolt still intact. This sent a chill down my spine thinking that whatever was in there, I was trapped with it.
As I left the kitchen, with my umbrella replaced by a chef’s knife, I realized something, something sinister that made my knees quiver and my feet stop. There was no longer silence ruling the house, there was something out there. A constant buzzing that sounded familiar but I couldn’t really point my finger at it.
I took a deep breath and tightened the grip on the knife’s handle before I started towards the eerie sound. I walked slowly, showing the same caution as one crossing a busy road, looking both ways, then forward, before committing to each step. I identified the origin of the sound, it was in the living room.
As I approached its doorway, I stopped frozen by fear. There was light sipping into the corridor from the living room.
“COME OUT NOW!” I demanded in a shrieking yell. “I’m armed and not afraid!” I declared to the invader but again received only silence.
Against my better judgment, I moved towards the light, holding the knife in front of me, wishing I had a real sword or better yet, a gun.
I stepped slowly, turning on switch after switch as I moved until I was a single step away from the living room’s entrance.
“I called the police, you better surrender!” I lied, feeling foolish while waiting for a reply that never came.
“I’m Sophia!” I whispered as I forced myself forward into the doorway.
In a frantic panic, I reached for the switch bringing light into the room. Everything was as I’d left, except for one thing, the TV was on.
I gulped, realizing the eerie sound I’d been hearing was nothing more than static and after a quick glance I noticed the remote on the floor, facing down.
This had to be it. I thought allowing myself to breathe and the knife to be lowered. “That thing must’ve dropped to the floor turning the TV on,” I concluded, feeling a lot better. That was until another bang echoed inside the house, this one upstairs.
I sprung across the living room towards my purse where I’d left my cell phone and quickly pressed 911
The police arrived quickly all the while keeping me on the line with an operator.
“There’s nothing here ma’am!” The officer said, after scouring the house for the third time.
“you say the doors were locked from the inside, so if anyone was to be here, we’d find it,” he added as he anticipated the incoming protest.
“His name is Blaine, Blaine Wozniak…“ I started saying but was immediately interrupted by the annoyed officer.
“We know, we already took note of his name, social security number, and home address and I promise we will look into him ASAP.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but the officer immediately cut me off using that infuriating condescending tone. “ Right Now, I need you to be calm and go back inside, locking everything like you said you always do. We’ll keep a car on this street until you leave to work, and tomorrow we’ll see if we can manage the same, deal?” the officer said extending his hands towards her.
Reluctantly I shook on it, and the man whistled to the other officers ordering them to turn around and leave.
At my front door, I turned towards the street, catching a wave from the officer sitting in his car. Still irritated I didn’t bother to wave back, just pursed my lips with discontentment. Then above the hood of the car, I saw movement, a curtain from the house in front being closed.
“Thank you for attending the circus, Judith”, I muttered between my teeth, feeling now even more irate. This was going to be the talk of the town. The little girl got scared while being alone at night and had to call the cops. I thought bitterly.
As I had predicted, as soon as I got to work I was bombarded with curious questions about the incident.
How did news travel so fast? Beats me, but if I were to bet I’m sure that nosy fire-crotch had something to do with it.
I dismissed my colleagues’ worries, explaining that it had been nothing but they refused to listen, and before I knew it I was agreeing to have dinner with all of them after the shift was over.
I’m not going to say that I had a bad time at dinner, it was nice being out in such a casual environment, just having fun. Still, I couldn’t help to long for my bed and hopefully the end to Lisey’s story.
At about 10h30 I finally got free from them, and at 11pm I was already In my jammies holding the red covered book. Outside was an officer, sitting on his car that again waived at me as I passed by it, and again I ignored his sympathy. Men have no sympathy for women, that much I knew.
That night, I felt a lot more tired than I did previously so, despite my eagerness, progress within the book was slow and after reading the same page for the 3rd time, I forced myself to quit.
I was staring at the clock when it happened, it marked 1:00 AM when again the loud echo of something slamming against another, trespassed into my room. I jumped out of bed towards my window, waving my hand frantically to call Mr. Nice to attention.
The officer darted out of his car into my home, while I hurried downstairs to let him in. Like before the deadbolt was still intact, and after spending almost 1 hour checking around the house, the officer found nothing.
There was a condescending doubt in his eyes as I told him what happened. He nodded politely, taking some notes in his pad, but every now and again he rolled his eyes, it was a subtle movement but there none the less.
It irritated me, making me feel like I was crazy, and that all of this was in my head.
Quickly, to avoid my sharp tongue from saying something I might regret, I dismissed the man, not only from my home but also from my driveway.
Clearly it was useless to have him there, I was alone, and alone I would conquer whatever was happening.
I returned to bed, feeling jittery, although angrier rather than afraid and, for the remainder of that night, no other incident had occurred.
In the morning, as I left the shower I was again assaulted by a sudden shock, feeling my stomach sinking to the floor and almost bringing the rest of me along with it.
In the mirror above the sink someone had scribbled, “NO TV NO FUN”
I ran out of the bathroom and grabbed my phone to call the police.
I recognized the voice on the other side, it was the man who had come to my house 2 days earlier and he too recognized me immediately.
“What happened this time?” the officer said dryly.
“Blaine is here, he wrote in my mirror, he is here NOW!” I cried on the phone.
“Calm down, calm down. That Blaine fellow can’t be there… he was found dead about two months ago.” the officer explained slowly. “also if you look outside you’ll see that an officer is still there, despite your last night’s tantrum.”
Tantrum? How dared he say such a thing? I was being stalked by something and Mr. Nice over there thought me crazy.
“Wait, Blaine is Dead?” I asked, suddenly registering the officer’s words.
“Yep, dead as dead can be. Stabbed multiple times and thrown into a ditch.” the officer replied flatly. “and before you ask, I’m positive about it.”
I hung up the phone, not knowing what to think or say. What if it was really in my head? I wondered, starting to feel a pinch in my stomach.
My self-commiseration was quickly cut short as again my doorbell rang.
I Ignored it at first, but the ringing kept going on and on, whoever it was really wanted to see me.
After putting on the first clothes I found, I hurried downstairs, passing by the kitchen to grab a knife, Just in case.
Through the peephole I saw the carroty hair of my neighbor, making me sigh with annoyance.
I unlocked the door, opening it just enough for my face to become visible.
“What!?” I asked whilst frowning.
“ I wanted to check on y-” the woman started, but I wasn’t having any of that today.
“I’m fine! Thank you, see you later” I interrupted brazenly and pushed the door close.
To my dismay, Judith snapped her foot forward preventing me from slamming it on her face. My eyes widen with shock and instinctively reached for the knife tucked in my pant’s back pocket.
“You’ve been hearing it, haven’t you?” the red-haired woman snapped, making me drop the blade as I was suddenly shaken by confusion.
“How did y-” I started to say, but Judith interrupted me, requesting to come in.
”I can see that you settled yourself in nicely, you even got a place to sit,” Judith said with a blank expression on her face.
I ignored the remark, jumping toward what really interested me.
“This house…” she started saying as she nested herself on the couch with me staring at her impatiently and arms crossed over my chest. I said nothing though, I needed her to speak, so allowed her time to become comfortable.
“… Is Special” she finally added, before pausing again to look around the room.
An impatient ire gushed through me, making me clench my fists. Judith must have noticed this because immediately words started pouring from her mouth.
“Everyone has guilt in them because, after a well-lived life, we all have done something we are not proud off, something that we regret and wished we could undo, and even something we would have done again, despite knowing fairly well how wrong it is.
With time, these actions start to dwindle in our memory, becoming locked away in an unused corner of our mind, But no matter how long they stay away, they are never truly gone.
They will always remain there, dormant until our last day on this earth, if we are lucky.
In this house things change, and what was forgotten, becomes clear and alive within these walls. It is a cruel place this house, especially for people who’ve done unspeakable things and wish to never revisit them again. Those people, for some bizarre coincidence, are also the ones who feel more attracted to this home. People like you, no doubt.
I’m sure your realtor friend didn’t tell you this, but these floors are saturated with the blood of those who owned this place before you, those who could no longer face the guilt and decided to end it all.
I almost did so myself.”
“You lived here?” I asked while processing the words spewed by Judith.
“For a while, less than a year was all I could endure,” she said with a hint of longing in her words. “I loved my Chester and I never meant for it to happen,” she added, dropping her head in silence.
Neither of us said anything for a while. In my case, I just couldn’t clearly wrap my mind around her words. Yes, they were things I felt guilty about, but nothing that would spiral me into something as drastic as ending my own life. It just didn’t fit.
“Judith, I think is better for you to leave…” I said while gesturing towards the door. “I don’t think this will help me.”
The red-haired woman rose from the couch slowly, looking around as she move forward, she looked smaller, sickly even.
“I could never atone for what I’ve done, and I couldn’t live here with it either,” she said slowly placing a hand on my shoulder. “I hope you can do one or the other,” she added before starting for the door.
I accompanied her towards it, keeping a tense silence between us and when she was gone I rushed to lock the door.
The woman must have been crazy, I was thinking when my stomach dropped to my heels, as I saw laying on the floor the remnants of my wedding dress. The fabric had been ripped apart as if it has endured a fit of rage with its bits and pieces laying around the living room, and even creating a trail towards the kitchen.
I followed the trail with my palm pressed against my chest, trying to appease my throbbing heart. At first, all appeared well in the kitchen as everything seemed as I had left it until I noticed something had been scraped onto the cutting board.
“YOU FORGOT BREAKFAST” My heart stopped, as I read those words, hearing his voice in my head. My eyes became flushed with tears as I started to weep uncontrollably while bent over the cutting board. This can’t be happening, this can’t be real, I repeated the mantra while trying to force my tears to a halt.
A loud bang then materialized behind me, silencing me in that instant. My knees shook as I turned around to see nothing, nothing at all.
Not knowing what else to do I grabbed a knife and ran out of the kitchen and hurried upstairs. I was going to pack and leave this place, RIGHT NOW
I jumped backward, hitting the wall behind me, making me dizzy as I saw scratched on my bedroom door the word “AGAIN?”
“GO AWAY!” I shouted to whoever was out there and kicked the door open.
My room was a mess as pieces of clothing were scattered all around. “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” I yelled and in front of me, etched into the wall above my bed, Crimson letters started to appear until they form a sentence.
“YOU DID THIS!”
I didn’t understand any of it, it made no sense. I had done nothing!
Forfeiting the idea of rummaging through the scraps of fabric in search of something still wearable, I grabbed the book from my nightstand and ran towards the door. I never made it out though, as soon as my foot reached the doorway, some invisible force wrapped itself around me and threw me aside.
I landed next to my closet as the door suddenly opened revealing to me my own reflection. Then, as it had happened on the wall, crimson letters appeared in the mirror, spelling my name. Not my name, my previous self name.
“I’M SOPHIA!” I screamed with anger rising inside me. “HANNA IS DEAD!”
“NO!” a guttural scream came from within the mirror. “ YOU DID THIS!”
I threw the book towards the mirror and felt something cracking in me. A torrent of emotion took control as I was transported away from this place and suddenly, I was again in my old home, in my old room.
It was late, 1am the clock said. I just had bought a dress and was hiding it deep in the closet when he came in and caught me doing it.
He pulled the dress away from me, cutting it with a kitchen knife while screaming at me, calling me names while accusing me of despicable acts.
I felt angry, I haven’t done anything wrong, I never did, I was always good. How dared he treat me in such a way? I jumped at him, and he fell with me on top. I felt the knife slide inside him and saw his eyes opening wide with shock. I didn’t think, I simply acted, reaching for the handle and pulling it out, and then stabbed him again and again, and again. I did it until I could no longer lift my arm. NO! HANNA DID IT, I DID NOTHING!
“YOU!” The guttural scream returned and I was again back home.
I pulled my knees to my chest and cried. “I did not mean to,” I said over and over again until finally, my mind collapsed into oblivion.
When I awoke I was still on the floor and in front of me was a shattered mirror with a red covered laying among the shambles. The thorn clothes were gone as well as the etched message on the wall.
I looked around confused and while l processed what had happened, I heard my phone ringing. Almost absently I went to answer it.
“Ha-Soph-”
“Hanna is fine Mom…” I said feeling a strange sense of peace as I voiced those words. “there is something I have to tell…”
This is my story, Hanna’s story.