I grew up as one of three siblings in Massachusetts.
There’s me, my sister Joelle (aka; Jojo since her middle name is Josephine,) who’s two years younger, and our baby brother, Matthew, who was kind of a whoopsie-baby - nine years younger than me and almost seven years younger than Jojo.
As the eldest brother, you can sometimes get a little cocky. For example, telling your little sister to move out of the most comfortable chair in the living room, and saying “well, I was born first!” when she protests that she was sitting there first. However, if my parents overheard me, they were quick to remind me that that wasn’t true. The mostly black and white photos of the little blonde girl that dotted the house seemed to look at me with her pale eyes and made me feel guilty.
You see, Susie was actually born first, on Christmas Eve, no less. The first year my parents were married, mom got pregnant with a daughter. They named her Suzette Carol Patterson. She was a beautiful little girl with blonde hair like Joelle’s and blue eyes like mom’s and my own. From the photos and stories, it was obvious that she was the light of mom and dad’s life. Especially after trying for a second child and mom subsequently having a miscarriage when Susie was three.
Two years later, when Susie was five, something horrible happened. She was at recess during kindergarten, and was playing on the monkey bars. She’d attempted to hang upside down from them like she usually did, but a mean girl who was a little bit bigger and older pulled her down by her ponytail, causing her to fall hard on her head. She’d actually been pronounced brain dead and passed away in the hospital two days later.
It changed my parents forever! By the time I came along a little over two years after Susie’s accident, my parents had become ‘helicopter parents.’ My mom quit her job as a high school science teacher in order to homeschool me, Jojo, and later on, Matt.
Since dad was an engineer, we had plenty of money for mom to homeschool the three of us and still live fairly comfortably. We went on annual vacations, and had a pretty large house. The house had two stories, five bedrooms, a spacious attic - or so my siblings and I were told - and an ocean view! Other than the fact that we were forbidden from going into my dad’s attic workshop and were never allowed to attend public school, our childhood was pretty great! When I was six, a kid named Arthur Sweet moved in next door. Artie was two months older than me, and we quickly became best friends.
The Sweets were from Fairview, Texas, so as a lifelong Chatham resident, I showed Artie the ropes of living on Cape Cod. In return, he inadvertently helped me build quite the social life by introducing me to his circle since he attended public school. I’d even been invited to a few middle school dances, and had my first girlfriend by the time I was 12 - a little green eyed brunette named Jenni Hawthorne.
The Summer before Artie and I would enter our freshman year of high school, he’d hosted a sleepover one night. Artie was 14, and I was about two weeks from it, so we were kind of hitting that rebellious phase. Our buddies Ryan and Mikey were there, and Jenni was having her own sleepover that night with Artie’s girlfriend, Laura and Ryan’s girlfriend, Stephanie, plus a cousin of Laura’s that was in from out of town for the Summer, so of course, I had to go to Artie’s place! The girls were expected to sneak out and drop by that night!
It was a great night. Laura’s cousin, Katie, was hot! Mikey got lucky, but there was no way in hell that I would breathe a word of those thoughts to Jennifer!
By the time I walked home, it was a cool, rainy, Summer Tuesday afternoon. If I were to judge based on the scowl on her face, her crossed arms, and her tapping her foot, my guess would be that my mother was not happy with me.
I could see Jojo smirking at me from the coveted living room recliner. I shot her a quick ‘go to hell’ look before smiling brightly back at mom! “Hi mom,” I greeted. “You look lovely today!”
She really did look nice. She was wearing this cream-coloured pantsuit with a black blouse underneath, cream-coloured heels and her blonde hair was pulled back into a smooth bun. She was even wearing the gold locket we’d given her last mother’s day and didn’t look as tired since she was wearing makeup.
“I told you to be home by 11:30 a.m., Scott. What time is it right now?”
I looked at my wristwatch. I’d come prepared for this question. “Well, according to my watch, it’s only-“
“3:30, Scott Bishop! It’s currently 3:30 pm!” She snapped, motioning to the clock. Bishop was my mom’s maiden name and my middle name. I looked to where she was pointing, even though I didn’t need to before looking back at my mom.
“Jeez, I’m sorry, mom. I guess I overslept. I was having so much fun hanging out with the guys that we ended up staying up way too late.”
My mom sighed, her look softening. “It’s okay, Scotty. It’s just that I need you to be a little more reliable now and do what you say you’re going to do. I mean, I told Jojo to be home from Amy’s by 11:30, and she was home by 10:00! This business dinner is very important to your father and it’s important that I go, since they told him to bring his wife. I need you and Jojo to watch Matty for me today, and I absolutely need you to be on time and do exactly as I say since this is the first time your father and I are leaving you three home alone. Now I only have an hour to pick up your father and be at the-“ Her sentence trailed off, as she squinted her eyes at me for a good two seconds. “Is that a bruise on your neck?”
Joelle nearly choked on the orange juice she was drinking and I flushed beet red, quickly pulling up the collar of my shirt to hide the hickey as a nervous chuckle escaped my lips. “Yeah, sorry. We were wrestling!” I explained, a little too quickly for my own good.
My mom suddenly looked horrified for a second before it was quickly replaced by a mix of disgust and annoyance and garnished with an eye roll. “Who? You and Jenni? I’m gonna go have a talk with Arthur’s mother tomorrow, and see if she knows her son is helping girls sneak in!”
Joelle started cackling as my face burned harder.
My mom walked over to Jojo and once again, her hands went on her hips as she scowled - this time at what would be her carbon copy if Jojo didn’t have brown eyes like dad’s. “I wouldn’t be laughing too hard at your brother, Joelle! Now I have a better understanding as to how to keep this from happening with you in a few years!” With that, she kissed my sister’s reddening cheek and gave her a hug. “Love you, sweetheart!”
“Yeah. Love you, too, mom.”
She then walked up to me, and gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek, too. “Love you, Scotty! The emergency numbers are on the fridge, including the Sweets’ and the number for the restaurant. I also left you guys some money to order a pizza! Okay, I’m off! Matthew is upstairs taking his nap, so make sure you two are watching for him when he wakes up! Bye!”
With that, she walked past me and out the door, driving off.
I stepped off the threshold and into the living room, eyeballing the recliner and the 11-year-old shithead sitting in it. “How long have you been sitting there?”
Jojo gave me a smug look and took another sip of her orange juice. “Oh, about an hour and a half before you finally got home.”
“Well, get up! You’ve been sitting there long enough, mom left me in charge, and Ryan let me borrow the new Watchmen comic. I have to give it to Mikey by Friday! Go check on Matthew or something.”
Joelle smirked up at me. “No, I don’t think I will. I was actually here on time. Why don’t you go check on Matthew since mom left you in charge?”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. She was kind of right, as much as I hated to admit it. Matty was four, and he was at the age where him getting quiet and not being asleep meant trouble.
I quietly crept up the stairs. Mom had left his door open a crack, so I looked through it. Sure enough, he lie sleeping peacefully in his bed. The light from the hallway seemed to reflect off his light blond hair.
I let out a sigh of relief and started to walk to my own room so I could read the comic Ry had leant me, and hear if Matthew got up, when the door at the far end of the hallway caught my attention.
The stairs leading to the attic were behind it, that much I knew, but we’d been living at this house since I was four months old and not once in my life had Jojo or I been allowed to go up there. The door was almost always locked, and while I didn’t expect that day to be any different, I decided that I would try it anyway, just for shits and giggles. I placed my backpack on the floor and approached the door.
To my surprise, when I turned the brass knob, the old wooden door actually opened with a creak.
The darkness on the other side of the door kind of sent a chill up my spine. I quickly closed the door, and darted back downstairs as quietly as I could.
“Jojo!” I whispered harshly, causing her to look up at me with a start.
“What?! What is it?! Is Matthew okay?!”
“Yeah, he’s fine, but come on! Check this out!”
Jojo finished her orange juice, placing the glass on the side table, and followed me as we tiptoed back up the stairs and down to the end of the hallway.
“What?” She whispered, looking around. “I don’t see anything.”
I said nothing and simply opened the attic stairwell door.
Jojo’s dark eyes widened and met mine. “They left it unlocked?”
“Apparently so. Come on, let’s go see what’s up there, but don’t touch anything. If one of us breaks something, they’ll definitely know we’ve been up there.”
She nodded in agreement and I went to my room to grab my flashlight, turning it on as we made our way up the dark staircase. I made sure to close the door behind us.
When we got to the attic, Jojo flipped the lightswitch, flooding the room with a warm, dim, light.
We saw dad’s work table and all of the things he must use for the projects he undertook up there, and something a little peculiar - a small room that appeared to be an add-on with a light pink door.
Joelle and I exchanged uneasy looks. “What do you think they keep in there?” She asked.
“I’m… Not sure… Do you wanna open the door and find out?”
“I mean, I guess so. Maybe whatever’s behind it is why we’re not allowed to come up here.”
I nodded and walked closer to the door, turning the silver-coloured knob.
The small room was dark, but the light shining in from the rest of the attic seemed to reveal a large painting that we couldn’t seem to make out, shelves with old stuffed animals, and most disturbingly - a small, humanoid figure about the size of Matty that appeared to be slumped over in a rocking chair.
Jojo screamed, and I almost did, too, for a second! “Shhh! Jojo! It’s okay! It’s just a doll!”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned on the lightswitch for the small room.
The doll was a strange green-gray color. Its skin almost looked like it was covered in bruising. Its head still hung down and the doll’s blonde, curly hair hung in - seemingly meticulously styled Victorian ringlet curls, and styled with a large pink bow. It wore a beautiful pink, ruffly, gingham dress with a white pinafore over it, light pink socks with white lace at the top, and white Mary Jane style shoes. It was kind of creepy.
“Hey, Scotty, look at the painting!” Jojo said, pointing up.
It seemed to be a professionally done, painted portrait of our parents and Susie. They each had a hand on her shoulder, beaming with pride in the direction of the person doing the portrait and Susie had the same bright, giant, happy grin she seemed to have in all of the other photos of her. Strangely enough, she seemed to be wearing the same outfit as the doll, except that her hair was straight and she was simply wearing a pink headband instead of the bow.
Joelle suddenly screamed, snapping me out of my thoughts, and ran back down the stairs, nearly tripping as she did so.
The “doll” had raised its head and was now looking up at me with glassy blue eyes. It looked just like Susie in the face! Its mouth began to open with a mechanical whirring sound, causing maggots and flies to tumble out of it.
I stood there, frozen in fear, just staring at the doll as its mouth mechanically moved in a crude mockery of how a person’s mouth should actually move when they’re speaking as a voice that I could only assume was a grainy, tinny-sounding recording of my dead older sister’s voice sweetly asked “Mommy? Daddy? Will you play with me?”
I finally found my footing as the artificially reanimated corpse began to stand up and say “Yay! We’re gonna have so much fun!”
I quickly shut off the light to the small room, slamming the door shut and turning off the attic light as I proceeded to follow Joelle’s lead and run down the attic stairs, slamming the door shut behind me.
When I ran down the second flight of stairs, I found Jojo sitting on the loveseat in the living room, sobbing and holding a terrified, confused, and barely awake Matty.
I sat on the loveseat next to my sister, and put Matthew on my own lap, holding and comforting my siblings as they cried and tears of terror pricked at my own eyes. “It’s gonna be okay, guys. Jojo, listen to me, we’re gonna forget this ever happened, okay? Matty, it’s alright, buddy. There’s nothing wrong. We’re fine. I’ve got you. Do you guys understand?”
Mom and dad came home at around 7:00 pm. We ended up ordering the pizza, but the only one who really touched any of it was Matthew, no matter how much I prompted Jojo to eat just a slice. I didn’t blame her, though, I was too nauseated to eat.
My sister and I never forgot what we saw in the attic that day, no matter how much we tried. Our relationship with our parents started to become strained after that. We couldn’t look at them the same way since finding out that they - in their grief - did something absolutely disgusting. The grave my other siblings and I visited several times a year had always been empty, and our parents had always known since they were the ones that robbed it. My sister became terrified that one of us or our brother would be the next to die and suffer the same fate.
By the following Summer, when Artie and I were 15 years old, we were no longer friends. I wanted to tell him what had happened to me and my sisters that day. I wanted to tell him why, that time we were walking down by the river and found that rotten dead raccoon, I immediately started vomiting and sobbing as the mental image of Susie’s dead body standing up from her rocking chair entered my mind. I never could. Instead, I found an old 5th of whiskey with a cigarette butt at the bottom a little bit further up the bank, and I drank it all, spitting out the butt in the river when I was finished and trying not to puke again. I started partying all the time. Instead of drawing, comic books, and D&D with Artie, Ryan, and Mikey, my new hobbies included cheating on Jenni with any girl that would touch me until she rightfully dumped and publicly humiliated my ass, and getting drunk with Daniel Carson and his band of soon-to-be frat boys. I was constantly surrounded by people, but the only time I didn’t feel alone was when I was hanging out with my siblings.
I left home on my 18th birthday. Before I left, I warned Matthew for the last time in years to never so much as get close to the door at the end of the upstairs hallway. I didn’t tell him why. I couldn’t bring myself to. By that point in my life, I was already an alcoholic, trying to wash that mental image out of my mind. Besides, how would I even tell an eight-year-old what mom and dad had done?
Jojo turned her attention heavily to school. It was hard, but she eventually got accepted into an ivy league and left home two years after I did. She’s actually a neurosurgeon now, and so is her husband. They have two beautiful, healthy children who don’t have too much contact with Grandpa Patterson.
In October of 1993, mom passed away in a car accident. Matt was 15 at the time. I didn’t want him living in the same house as dad in case he tried something with our mother’s corpse, too, so I threatened to tell the police what was in the attic unless he agreed to quietly sign over custody to me. I was 25, and while I still very much had my issues, I was at least working on them. Needless to say, dad granted custody without much of a fight. Matthew talks to him the most out of the three of us, but I haven’t had contact with dad at all since that day.
Raising my kid brother and battling my addiction while I worked two part time jobs was challenging at first, but we eventually made it through without him ever knowing what Jojo and I found in the attic that day.
Matt’s a high school teacher now just like mom was and also happily married. On the day he married Justin, he asked me to walk him down the aisle since I was more of a dad to him than our real dad. Of course I happily agreed to do it!
After all, what else are big brothers for?