I never knew my parents, I do remember my mom a bit, she disappeared when I was little and my father, well, I heard he left on the day I was born; some even connected the dots of my father having something to do with my mother’s disappearance, but I wouldn’t know. So I was raised by my grandparents they were strict but very loving; particularly I enjoyed spending time with my grandfather; he taught me a lot about growing into a man, showed me how to shave and talk to women; he even told me how to deal with heartache after my first break up. I knew since my grandparents were much older than me I didn’t have as much time as I would have wanted, but I cherished every minute that was available.
When I was sixteen my grandfather was diagnosed with some type of dementia, it was noticeable; his mind seem to wander bringing up the weirdest things, it broke my heart to see him in such a way. Even more terrifying was the fact he seemed to be aging at a rapid rate, by the time I had finished high school the man I looked up to was a mere shell of his former self, needing assistance from me or my grandmother in every way. This is when he started to say the most bizarre things,
”I got lost in the garage again” is something he would usually tell my grandmother.
I could tell by the look on her face how exhausted she was, constantly looking out for him, especially since he seemed to disappear quite frequently. Once we couldn’t find him for almost 8 hours, we were absolutely frantic and phoned for the police, but like usual we would find him hiding in one of the corners of our garage.
I’ve always hated our garage, something about it always left me feeling angst, especially when I was a kid. I remember my grand father sending me to fetch something from our second fridge that was stored in the garage; to get there I had to walk down a small corridor that connected the small car port to our home, I don’t know why it was built this way but it was and each time I had to cross that dimly lit threshold I would hold my breath with pure trepidation. Though nothing ever would happen I knew it was just my mind playing tricks on me, the shadows that danced around in the corners of my peripheral was all in my mind but I would typically quicken my pace once getting closer to the garage door. Once stepping inside my anguish wouldn’t completely relent, the sense of emptiness simmered in the air as a stale stench penetrated the atmosphere leaving the small space completely devastated.
Although, nothing ever happened, I would always get whatever I went in to retrieve and storm back as quick as my small legs allowed, though this day was slightly different, this is the day I first noticed the statue. It was odd, out of place since my grandparents weren’t much of art collectors but even more disturbing was how life like the statue was; it was of a woman. The sculpture stood about 4 feet tall and during that time it was practically my height, so when I entered the garage I was face to face with the most horrifying scene. The statue itself looked just as terrified as I was, the woman brandishing a gaze of pure horror; I could literally hear her screams in my imagination, to say the least I almost wet myself. I didn’t bother getting what my grandfather sent me in to get, instead, I ran back crying; that’s when I collided into him. He grabbed me by the shoulders firmly and stared right into my eyes,
“What is it boy?” he asked with a stern voice.
I continued crying as my muffled words stumbled over each other trying to tell him about the horrid statue, I think he understood what I said because that’s when he smacked me across the face hard. Say what you will about the older generations but they didn’t tolerate nonsense; so thinking back on it at that time I didn’t blame my grandfather for doing what he did. After hitting me he dragged me back to the garage by my arm, practically breaking it off my small body; he then shoved me towards the statue bringing me once again face to face with the nightmare.
“Look at it boy, look! It’s just a statue, it ain’t gonna hurt you” he angrily told me.
In the moment I felt silly for ever being scared of it and quickly wiped away my tears as I gathered myself.
“Where did you get it grandpa?” I whimpered out.
He snorted and then garnished the hugest smile I’ve ever seen him make, as if I had asked him some profound question.
“I collect beautiful things son, the more beautiful the more I want it” he told me as he brushed his hand across the statues terrified expression.
That’s when his once smile dropped and his stoic frown returned.
“Don’t you touch them, you hear me. You leave them be” he ordered.
I did as I was told and from that day on anytime I had to go in to that ill fated garage I would just ignore the statues, seeing that my grandfathered appeared to collect more of them. Each one demonstrating it’s own expression of fright, I became to numb to it; even though the feeling of dread would linger the times I would have to enter the small room. Even when I got older it always felt as if those statues were staring at me, their eyes following each step I took; I asked my grandmother about them once and she told me the same thing my grandfather had told me when I was kid, that he liked beautiful things.
“But those aren’t beautiful, they’re are abysmal” I told her.
“I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder” she told me with her tired voice.
Something even more odd were how the statues would constantly change, sometimes my grandfather would have several and other times he might just have one and each time it would be of a different woman but always with the same look of terror.
My curiosity for the abnormal works of art never evaded me I just learned to look away whenever I had to go in there; mainly to look for my grandfather. As the dementia took hold of my male role model I used the opportunity to start tossing away the monstrosities, each time sneaking one out the back and disposing of it in our trash bin; neither of my grandparents were the wiser. Oddly enough the statues kept appearing even with my grandfather slowly falling into senility, was someone bringing him the statues; perhaps the artist I pondered. I never really thought about who was actually creating these hideous sculptures, that’s when I decided to thoroughly inspect one of them; searching for the creators name. I picked up the statue and turned it around in almost every direction but couldn’t find any indication of a signature, I don’t know why but I then stared directly into the eyes of the small creation; her eyes bellowing out some desperation and in the moment something about the woman seemed strongly familiar.
I started to think perhaps my grandfather himself was the artist, but, if that was the case what did he mean when he said ‘he was a collector of beautiful things’? Maybe my grandmother was sculpting these nightmares, but that still didn’t make sense. The mystery to the origins of these life like statues captured my attention and I became a bit overwhelmed with the concept of getting to the truth. Against my own judgment I set up a wireless camera in the hellscape garage hoping to see the person that was bringing my grandfather the sculptures. I reviewed the footage every day after work but never saw anything of significance except for once, my grandfather cautiously entered the garage slithering across the view of the camera and then he seemed to disappear; the camera was wide lense it practically captured the entire garage the only thing I couldn’t see were the dark shadows in the corners.
I fast forward for the next several hours but still the garage lay vacant, my eyes glued to my computer screen as the lines of forward progress jived around until finally there he was. To my astonishment he appeared out of nowhere, I rewound the video to the exact moment he seemed to manifest and noticed there was a time glitch in the recording, about a three second lapse. I was left bewildered on how my grandfather could suddenly appear in a matter of seconds. I grabbed my chin as I softly stroked it in deep thought trying to figure out what this all meant.
As the months passed my curiosity faded seeing how ill my grandfather was becoming my focus was on him and supporting my family, after all, that’s all I had; though the statues just kept showing up. No matter how many I threw away they seem to haunt me, while the garage kept it’s menacing presence deeply wedged in the place I called home. Then the unthinkable happened; my grandmother suffered a stroke, she didn’t make it, it was a nightmare; the only mother I’ve ever known now gone. Now it was just me and my grandfather alone in the house; I had to watch his every move since he kept disappearing. To say the least I was devastated, not only was my family falling apart but I was exhausted; taking care of someone that you love as they wither away is something I don’t wish on my worst enemy, it is truly life shattering. This is when my inquisitive mind returned on the garage, only because that’s where I would always find my grandfather,
“I got lost in the garage again”
“Yes grand dad I know” I would tell him.
This went on for the next year, by this point he could hardly walk, at times I would catch him crawling toward the ill fated dark corridor that led to the small room. I would have to grab him by the arm and forcefully pull him away, I was getting tired and contemplated the idea of bordering off that part of the house. That’s when the most mystifying question dawned on me, if I locked it away would the statues kept piling up; would they inundate the small space and explode through the walls? I quivered in disgust imagining such a thing.
“I got lost in the garage again”
“Yeah grand dad I know, you’re safe” I told him as usual, though this time he said something different that I’ve never heard him say before.
“They always get lost, I don’t let them follow me”.
That got my attention, I didn’t know who he was talking about, who were ‘they’?
“What did you say grand dad?” I softly whimpered out.
He didn’t repeat what said instead he looked at me with a vacant stare, him protruding a world of emptiness, I don’t know why I would think what he said meant anything.
It wasn’t long after that moment did the illness take it’s toll on my hero, and he passed away. Seeing him laying still in a coffin was the most surreal moment of my life, a man that was fearless laid alone in a world I only could hope treated him good.
It was now me and the house, loneliness engulfed the small home as most of the time I kept the lights off, I didn’t want to see anyone not that there was anyone to see. I quit my job and stayed home most days, drinking my sorrows away the best I could; my grandparents left all the bank accounts to me along with the house so there really wasn’t any need to work. I would wake up and stumble around in the darkness even urinating on the floor at times, I would then scurry over to the couch. Sometimes I would turn on the television but never really look at it; I would just take comfort in the noise it created. I did rummage around some of my grandfathers belongings, trying to resurrect that deep connection I had with my once hero, I didn’t find anything of significance, though I did discover an odd sketch he had folded up in his wallet; it was a bizarre design of lines going in different directions; at first glance it looked a bit like a puzzle. I don’t know why but I stashed it in my pocket, perhaps a feeble attempt in trying to reconnect with the man that taught me so much.
It wasn’t until one night was I about 14 beers in and realized I had run out of alcohol. I practically destroyed the kitchen looking for something to drink, it was past curfew to buy more but it was too early for me to stop . This is when I remembered the second fridge we had in the garage, I hadn’t been in there for months but figured maybe there were some left over chardonnay my grandmother left behind; it was a long shot but being sober was something I was not comfortable with. I stumbled across the kitchen kicking empty beer cans out of my way as the stench of rotting food simmered around me. I entered the dark and elongated corridor that led to the garage and walked through, I collided against the walls as I did my best to stable my balance and that’s when I remembered the mystery of the garage; I remembered being so frighten of this corridor always letting my imagination get the better of me. This time in my drunken state I laughed at the fictional ghosts that haunted me as I angrily swung at dead air, but stopped after a few seconds; I was already out of breath. Nothing was there, nothing was ever there, I spent years being scared of the darkness but in actuality I was afraid of the emptiness, something I was now faced with.
I entered the small and secluded garage, I didn’t bother turning on any lights, a bit of the moon shined through the small windows that resided toward the ceiling, enough light to guide me to my destiny; more alcohol. To my delight I did find something, it wasn’t chardonnay or even beer but it would do the job, I found some champagne. I chuckled thinking of what I was going to celebrate, solitude or insanity? I had a good laugh and closed the fridge door, I then started walking back to the corridor when in the moon light did I see one of those hideous statues. I had completely forgotten about them and I fell backwards on to the floor from being startled, clashing down with a heavy thud; luckily I didn’t break my bottle.
“Shit!” I yelped out.
As I sat on the floor I began looking around, searching for more of those little demons but it was only the one, as usual the woman looked terrified. I promptly got up off the floor and headed towards the sculpture picking it up and raising it over my head with malice intent ready to destroy the horrid creation, but then stopped myself thinking of how much my grandfather cherished these things. I carefully placed the statue back down on the floor, my head dipped down with defeat; sorrow pouring out my heart, I could feel tears slipping down my face as I shuffled my way back to the corridor. I was ready to collapse back down unto the couch and drink until I blacked out, wishing to never wake up, to remain in the world of slumber or even better in the realm of nothingness.
As the dark thoughts swirled around my mind something caught my attention, which was, the corridor seemed to be longer than usual and suddenly my misery quickly morphed into befuddlement. I began walking a bit faster as the shadows that I mocked mere minutes ago now seemed to be gaining ground on me and soon I collided into the door. A sense of relief wash over me as I giggled from how silly I was being, I opened the door and stepped through, to my astonishment I was back in the garage.
“What the hell” I whimpered out as I still held my bottle of champagne.
I shook my head thinking now maybe I had drank too much, so I headed back towards the door this time a bit more aware, I walked down the dark infested corridor and like before it felt longer. I had quicken my pace but tried to keep my cool understanding this was all some alcohol induced hallucination. I outstretched my arm in the pitch darkness waiting to feel the firmness of the door, after what felt like minutes I finally felt it. I quickly stepped through and to my dismay I was back in the garage, though this time I wasn’t alone. There were more of those disgusting statues at least 10 of them all staring at me with their gross terrified expressions. That wasn’t all, the garage itself seemed bigger, as if it had increased in space but even more disturbing was I now saw another door.
”What the hell is going on” I cried out.
My heart must of been racing a million miles an hour as I finally relinquished my bottle and grasped at my head in confusion. The sounds of my champagne shattering on the floor rung out like church bells. This is when my memory gets a bit foggy, I don’t remember much other than the room spinning as I began to vomit on the floor and a cloud of haze inundated my vision, all I could do is sob as I passed out.
I awoke on the kitchen floor, the cold marble soothed my burning body as the sunlight seeped in through the windows, I had the hugest headache but remembered everything that I saw. I stood to my feet as my body cradled back in forth trying to gain my balance, I stared over at the corridor and felt fear creep into my very soul. I thought of the statues, were they keeping me there; did they not want me to escape? I didn’t know what to think, but I knew what I wasn’t going to do and that is I wasn’t going to the let the experience stop me from drinking.
After leaving the house for the first time in weeks to get more beer I pondered on my experience, I spent most of the day doing my best to convince myself that it was all some gruesome nightmare, it indicative of how lonely and sad I was. So I kept to my routine sitting on my couch in the dark as I pounded one beer after another trying my best to forget the sorrows of this dreadful reality. I even bought myself some smokes, something I didn’t do often but figured why not do the things that could lead me to death quicker. So I spent most of the night drinking and smoking, you can probably guess that I was truly at rock bottom; I even entertained the idea of ending it all but a stronger thought seemed to keep crawling it’s way back into the forefront of my thoughts and that was that dam garage. I needed to know if what I saw was real, was this what my grand father meant when he would get ‘lost in the garage’? I put my smoke down on the couch and stormed towards the dark corridor with only the moon light shining through the windows to guide me. I gripped the door knob to the mystifying space tightly as I deeply inhaled; scared of what truths I would uncover.
I cautiously made my way down the darken and vacant corridor treading carefully not to encounter some ghastly entity. As I finally came to the garage I held my breath and entered, as always it was dimly lit and isolated, sound seemingly able to escape the clutches of this small space. I looked around carefully being ready for the unexpected but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary; not even those dreadful statues. I slapped myself against the head berating myself for being so impractical thinking anything different would reveal itself and I headed back towards my kitchen. As I entered the dark corridor the now familiar sensation of endless walking invaded my senses as I knew I had return to the nightmarish realm of uncertainty. Making my way to the door I once again was back in the garage, I repeated this several times and ended up the same; back in that poorly moonlit room.
After about five attempts I finally was face to face with those demonic statues but this time they didn’t look like how they usually did, instead, they were human size about 5ft tall; while their bodies contorted in disfigured positions frozen in place by some unnatural force. Staring at their faces their life like features still projected terror, more alarming as how tears seem to slip down their porcelain skin the closer I got to them. This is when I finally saw the extra door, I could feel fear doing it’s best to conquer me but I had to know where I was, perhaps this was the after life and only by passing through more doors would I be able to see my grandfather. So I entered the mysterious additional door ready to encounter whatever creature this world felt like dishing at me.
As I slithered my way around the disturbing life size statues I began to hear the faintest sound; it sounded like a melody as if someone was humming but more specifically a woman humming a song. It was coming from the new door, I couldn’t tell you why but, I felt attracted to the soft voice like a mosquito attracted to one of those blue light traps and with that I proceeded to the door. As usual stepping through was the all too familiar corridor and I walked down now with more confidence than trepidation. Stepping back into the garage I could see how much more bigger it had expanded, it practically the size of a small warehouse, luckily those horrid sculptures were gone and I found myself alone. I felt like exploring around but quickly saw that there were now two additional doors added to my journey. I contemplated of which one I should venture through but then still heard the vague sound of humming and I decided to follow the beautiful sound. I travelled through door after door getting closer to that beatific harmony wanting to know who was creating it.
I no longer saw any statues but the once small garage only grew to the size of an abandoned building while revealing at least 10 extra doors to me. Though, my chose of door was simple, I continued following that beautiful sound of music, my soul guiding me towards whatever afterlife I deserved and after several more trips down the rabbit hole finally did I get to a realm that was bigger than anything imaginable, a void in space that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe; this wasn’t a garage but rather a new world. My ears picked up on how loud and present the humming had now become and something in the back of my mind captured me, the melody sounded too familiar; a sound of discernment.
“Hello?” I shouted out, hoping whoever was making such an angelic noise would respond.
That’s when the humming had stopped, I narrowed my eyes in the dimly lit void hoping to see anyone and that’s when I spotted a bit of movement. It was a person, or at least I presumed it was; in fact it looked like a woman.
“Hello, please stop” I pleaded as the figure seemed to be running away from me.
“I’m I dead?” I asked.
Finally the person stopped to look at me, their face being disguised in the shadows of this realm. As I approached closer light seemed to follow me; as if I projected some energy shining the small space that encapsulated my area. Finally the persons features were revealed to me, it was a woman about my age, something about her felt emotional; like I knew her. As my eyes followed her movements I clearly saw the fear consuming her face, she was terrified at least for the first few minutes and after a moment her body relaxed and realized I was of no threat.
“I thought you were him” the woman told me.
“What are you talking about, who is him?” I asked.
She just continued looking at me with wonderment as if I were some alien from another planet. The more I reflected on the moment; it came to me why that song sounded so familiar and with bewilderment gaping out of my mouth I had to know who this person was.
“That song, you were humming, my mother use to sing me that song when I was little” I told the strange woman.
She remained a bit reserved but then smiled, in the moment I realized how distraught she appeared; her hair was unkempt and disheveled; dark rings sagged underneath her ocean blue eyes while her posture seemed to tremble without control.
“I use to sing that song to my son, before…”
She paused.
No this was impossible, I had to be dead or at least in coma of sorts, that’s it I drank too much and had passed out on the couch as I consumed my smokes. Though staring at the woman’s face I realized she looked a lot like me.
“Mom?” I yelped out.
She shuttered in place at such a comment but then stared at me as she tilted her head side to side.
“No, my son is five years old” she told me.
It started to make more sense, she must of got lost in here in whatever this place was, that’s where she had gone, this is why my grandfather always came here; he must of been looking for her.
“It’s me mom, you’ve been missing for about 20 years; everyone thought you were dead.” I told her with a shaky tone.
She grasped at her mouth with her hand, seemingly in shock but her eyes portrayed a look of belief; she now knew who I was.
“Has it been that long? I tried to find my way out, I wanted to get back to you; but every time I was close he would drag me back in; deeper and deeper each time.” my mother told me to my bewilderment.
“Who is ‘he’? I don’t know who you’re talking about, is there someone else here with you? Is it my dad?” I asked her.
That’s when in the corner of my eyes I picked up movement in the darkness getting closer, I gulped heavy from fear not knowing what was approaching, but as the darkness dissipated from my energy I clearly saw it was more women, dozens of them getting closer to me and my mother.
“Wait, who are they, what’s going on mom?” I trembled with disgust as I grabbed at my mother like some kid wanting shelter from the monsters.
“Don’t be afraid, he brought them here too, there’s many of us some are in different realms; I don’t know how big this place is but I know there might be hundreds of us” my mother said.
As the other women got closer I could see there distraught faces, all of them revealing a look of despair and that’s when it dawned on me, they were the statues; they looked just like them. I didn’t understand, how was this possible, that’s when my mother placed her hands on my face and gravitated my stare towards her.
“Your grandfather brought them here, he brought me here too, when I was younger I caught him in the garage he had a woman tied up, it was clear what he intended to do with her. I yelled at him, begging him to release her; I always knew that my father was a sick man but I didn’t know how depraved he really was. Realizing that I now knew the truth he grabbed me and pulled me in deeper into whatever this place is, at first I tried my best to find a way out; but after awhile it felt useless. Occasionally your grandfather would come down here to visit the girls and I would follow him, wanting to know how to escape. I would always get close I knew I was close but he would always catch me and drag me back. I’m not the only one, plenty of us have tried to find a way out and I think some of us had escaped, because they disappeared unless my father did something to them” my mom told me.
The statues, that’s what happens to them when they get close, when then almost find their way out and I; no! I would throw them away, was I killing them? I began to shake my head in disagreement not being able to accept such a story, I could feel my stomach turning knots along with a sudden urge to vomit.
“No, impossible, my grandfather wouldn’t have done that, no!” I shouted out as I began to sob into my mothers embrace.
That’s when I smelled an odd odor, I saw the other women looking around presumably smelling the same thing.
“What is that?” my mother asked.
That’s when I realized it was the scent of smoke, I remembered leaving my lit cigarette on the couch and that’s when I saw a bit of smoke simmer in the empty sky above.
“We have to get out of here” I told the women.
“No, there’s no way out, I’m sorry son you’re stuck here too” my mom told me.
“You don’t understand I think the house is on fire, I don’t know what happens if this place gets burned down, we have to go”.
That’s when a spark of resolution ignited in my mind, the weird design I found in my grandfathers wallet, I reached in to my pocket and pulled it out. Looking at it, I saw that it was a map, the intricate turns it was like one giant maze but with this I saw the way out.
“I know how to get out of here, c’mon mom, let’s go!” I frantically yelled out as I grabbed my mother by the hand dragging her along with me.
By this point the stench of ash strengthen while the daze of heavy smoke became more visible it even blocking my vision. I did my best to interpret the hand drawn map, choosing each door carefully not wanting to back track; I could see some of the girls were getting left behind but honestly I didn’t care, all that mattered was my mother. I gripped her hand tightly not wanting to let go, afraid of her being gone once again. I don’t know how I knew; perhaps it was the cloud of smoke that inundated the air or maybe intuition but I knew we were close, seeing the garage slowly shrinking back to it’s normal size. We were almost there and I smiled with excitement, that’s when my mother stopped me yanking her hand away from mine.
“What are you doing? We just have one more door” I told her.
“We can’t leave the other girls behind, we need to go back for them”
I looked around and realized it was just us, everyone else seemingly wasn’t able to keep up. I got bit annoyed and grabbed at my mothers hand trying to forcefully pull her with me.
“No! We have to go back, it’s because of your grandfather that those poor girls are trapped here, we need to save them and if you don’t want to help then so be it I’ll do it myself” she angrily told me.
The smoke filled the small garage to the point I barely could make out the shape of my mother, I began choking and gasping out for air, but mother did not relent and she ran back into one of the doors.
“Mom, no wait!” I whimpered out trying to grab at her.
I felt dizzy, my eyes were burning from the ash while the place itself raised in temperature, I was loosing my vision and I fell to the floor wishing for my mother to come back. As I laid still on the floor I could see ambers of fire beginning to penetrate through the ceiling, though, I felt calm knowing I would now enter into the eternal void of the afterlife and I only prayed that my mother would be there. That’s when a firemen burst through the garage door, he was wearing some breathing apparatus and I assume he must of saw me on the floor.
That was the last memory I had, I woke up in the hospital, I didn’t suffer any injuries other than the smoke I had inhaled. I tried explaining to everyone about the garage, about the women, about my grandfather. They all just looked at me like I had lost my marbles, maybe I did, apparently that cigarette I left on the couch sparked the fire. They told me that breathing in all that smoke could of led me to having some hallucinated dream, at least that’s the official explanation; but I know the truth.
I drove back to the ruins of what was my home the next day, I rummaged through the wreckage looking for any signs of the garage and that’s when I saw it, the porcelain skin glistening in the bright sunlight. I ran over and uncovered it, my heart beating with intent, I prayed it was her; I wanted it to be her. Looking at the statue it was intact, no cracks no scuffs, but to my dismay it was not my mother. I looked at the face and it was no longer terrified, instead its small face had a look of hope.
I carry that statue everywhere I go, because hopefully it will help me find a way back. I often dream of eventually getting back in, maybe not any day soon, perhaps when I’m an old man; maybe I’ll resemble my grandfather and I will carry that statue into the garage only for her to manifest into a real person and maybe then she will smile, hug me for saving her. Perhaps that’s when I will hear a humming coming from behind me, that sweet song that once cradled me to sleep and just maybe I will turn around and she will be there happy to see me; just maybe, one can only dream.