Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25121533-20140701061329

Paramour





When the woman awoke from her slumber, the red glare of the bedside alarm clock scalded her eyes sharply. It took her a few seconds before her vision adjusted and she could read what time it was.

''3:49. Why the hell did I wake up at 3:49 in the morning?''

The alarm clock ticked to 3:50.

''Maybe it was a bad dream. But as best as I can recall, I didn't have any nightmares.''

The bedroom door creaked open. It was an eerie sound, ligneous and full of dread. Its hinges groaned in agony, and the noise seemed to stretch onwards for an eternity. For a moment, the woman was petrified, her half-conscious mind frantic with panic and fear. She was facing the wall, her back to the bedroom door, and she dared not turn to inspect this intruder. Her breathing slowed to a silent halt.

''Someone has broken in... They're going to kill me or even...''

In the tranquil, yet foreboding silence that occupied the room, she heard footsteps. It took less than a dozen paces for the unseen figure to reach his destination. When he arrived at the bedside, he stood still for a moment.

''I'm going to die. This man is going to kill me...''

''But what if it wasn't a man at all? What if it was some kind of-''

And then two thumps echoed off of the floorboards, and the shadowed figure shifted his weight onto the bed. The woman realized her misjudgment of the situation.

''I've spent too much time alone. I'm just nervous, that's all. I've been through a lot these past few weeks.''

...

She had moved into this house seven months ago; a quiet, friendly suburban neighborhood with parks and playgrounds and houses that were almost exactly the same, but with different colored paintjobs on every street. Red for Maywood Avenue, Yellow for Sanford Court, green for Hubert Road. It was cute and vain, and sometimes the woman despised it, but it was a relieving change of pace from the crowded, bustling blocks of the city. She had lived like that for years, in a cramped and messy apartment, clothes and trash strewn across the floor, and no time or energy to clean it. She worked two jobs, and both were mediocre at best. The pay was... decent, for someone like her, but there were problems in the family... The woman's mother was loving but she didn't have the means to take care of her daughter, and she could become very abusive. She didn’t know her father, and assumed that her mother didn't either. At eight years old she was forced to live with her aunt after a rather... nasty incident occurred, and they became very close after some time. She may have been strict, but it had all been for the girl's wellbeing. However, when the girl turned 22 years old, it was discovered that her aunt had a terminal lung disease, and soon she became incapable to take care of herself. The woman had to devote a large amount of money and time to her ill aunt. This lasted for several years, much to the disbelief of her doctors, and it gave her niece an arduous financial burden.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">...

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">She began to relax; her muscles eased up and her breathing resumed at a normal rate. The still unseen man shuffled in the bed and moved in close to her, stretching his arms around her waist. He planted a light kiss on her cheek, whispered softly "I love you," and began to passionately massage her. She did not get up, but it was enough to make her smile. She thought that her husband assumed that she was sleep and did not wish to rouse her, so she decided it would have to wait until the next day.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">I almost forgot what love felt like...

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">...

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">That was when she met him. She had been living in her small, filthy apartment for years now, repeating the same routine of life for so long. Her life was obviously going downhill, and she knew it was. With most of her time and money going to her aunt, and her working two jobs, her social life was... lacking, to say the least. But this man did not seem to care. He took a liking to her very quickly, and she did the same to him. After a few months, she moved in with him, her housing clearly not being suitable for proper living, and then a while after that, they got married. He had a good enough career for her to give up her second job, and soon she began to make more friends, and better ones at that. Gradually, her life began to come together, piece by piece. Even her aunt was seemingly making a steep recovery from her illness. When she had moved into her current town with her husband, it was all very odd to her. Everything was perfect, or at least appeared to be on the surface. For the first time in her life, she was happy; almost too happy...

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">...

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">It only took her a few minutes to fall asleep in the warm, safe embrace of her husband’s arms. Her eyelids began to droop, and then she slipped into a welcoming state of slumber. The woman woke up with more energy and enthusiasm than she had in quite some time. She sat up in the bed, stretching her arms and letting out a muffled yawn. Streaks of sunlight beamed through the glass panes of the bedroom window, warming her skin and showing the dust particles that were floating in the room. I really need to clean the house soon. With everything going on of late, it was difficult for her to perform otherwise mundane tasks. She stepped onto the wooden floorboards, and walked into the conjoining bathroom, noticing the shoes sitting on the opposite side of the bed. She noticed, upon entering, that a few of her drawers and cabinets were slightly a hinge. Whether it was her exhaustion causing her to not shut them last night or her husband searching for a household item, she did not know. In any event, she took a shower and got dressed. When she stepped out of the bedroom and into the living area/ kitchen (They both emptied out into the same space) she heard a sizzling noise, and could pick up the aroma of something savory. She smiled when she saw breakfast cooking.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">So caring and considerate, even when I should be the one looking after him.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">Even though she had spent every night for the past few weeks in her house, the woman only now felt truly at home. Her lover was nowhere to be seen, however. Looking past the kitchen, she perceived that the second bathroom (the one belonging to her spouse) seemed occupied; the door was closed with a yellow glow shining from underneath it, and the sound of gushing water emanated from inside. She figured that she would give him some time and not bother him to hurry up.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">...

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">Almost immediately after the couple relocated to the new town, the woman began to feel... out of place. She had never lived in such an organized and clean manner. At first it was almost too much for her, after some time though, she overcame it. But... that wasn't the real problem at hand. Beginning at an early age, she had always been quick to become anxious and was very uncomfortable when encountering new situations. She never felt truly at peace emotionally, besides perhaps when she was with her husband. She was well aware of this, and had no doubt that it stemmed from her abusive mother. Even so, these feelings of unease worsened after she moved into her current town. Sure, her neighbors were very kind, and there were hardly any criminal incidents nearby, but somehow she couldn't help but feel like she was... being watched. There never seemed to be any physical evidence of it, or maybe her mind just refused to acknowledge it, but she still felt the ever looming presence of prying eyes. On many occasions she found herself shutting the blinds and locking the doors to the house, and later she would have to make up some excuse to her consort, not wanting to sound ridiculous trying to explain her discomfort.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">...

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">A few minutes later, the food was done cooking and the woman's husband had yet to emerge from the washroom. Hence, she turned off the stove and sat down at the nearby dinette with two plates full of breakfast. Deciding that she would wait to eat, she went back into her bedroom and retrieved her cell phone. When she saw that she had a missed call, she muttered a curse.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">Damn, I completely forgot.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">It was from one of her friends. The two had been well acquainted for several years and had developed a good relationship. They had both gone through rough childhoods, and just generally connected well with each other. Anyways, while her husband was away on a business trip for a few weeks, the woman had made arrangements to go to lunch with this friend. They had agreed on meeting at a certain diner on Saturday afternoon of this week, the day before her husband was planning on returning home. However, due to all of the chaos that engulfed her life recently (her aunt's illness worsening by the minute and some troubles at work) she had totally forgotten about the arrangement. The missed call was from a few hours ago, so the woman called her back. There was an answer at the third ring.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">"Hey, I'm so sorry," she said.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">"What?" Her friend sounded confused.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">"I forgot about lunch yesterday. I'm so sorry. Things have been crazy."

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">"I thought we were going to meet today?" She said, her tone even more puzzled. "It's Saturday." Only now did the woman realize her ignorance.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">''Of course, today is Saturday. I thought it was Sunday because my husband came home last night. He must have finished his work early.''

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">"Yeah, of course... I don't know what I was thinking."

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">"Are you okay, hun? It doesn't sound like you're doing too well." She was obviously concerned for her friend, but the woman was feeling stupid and embarrassed, so she didn't want to carry on the conversation. When she heard the water stop rushing in the bathroom, she found her excuse to leave.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">"I'm fine. I've got to go now. I'll see you tonight."

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">"Okay. Bye." She was hardly finished speaking when the woman hung up the phone. Only a few seconds had passed when she heard the sound of an engine on the road. She peered out of the window that was situated beside the dinette... and in that moment all of her previous feelings of happiness and comfort dissolved into dust. Immediately terror began to overcome her, and a lump formed in her throat. The car being driven towards the house was a black Ford Focus.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">My husband owns a black Ford Focus...

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">The event may have been passed off as a meaningless coincidence... but at the moment there weren't any vehicles in the driveway other than her own car. At that exact moment, a wooden groan came from down the hall. Even though her neck was stiff with dread, she somehow found it in herself to turn towards the bathroom. What she saw... what she saw horrified her. The man standing before her was lanky and gaunt, with thinning grey hair and cadaverously pale skin. He was clearly freshly shaven, and was wearing a robe.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">My husband's robe.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">But he was not her husband.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">To say the woman was appalled would have been an understatement. For a few moments, she was transfixed, mortified, even. After those moments however, she instinctively jumped to her feet from the chair, knocking a glass from the table to shatter on the floor. Even then, however, her legs became rubber, and she could not run. The front door to her house seemed an impossible distance away, but even if she did dash for it, she had no doubt that this abomination would be on her tail. The deathly man walked at a casual pace towards his target, grabbing a knife from the kitchen counter as he walked past.

<p style="margin:10px20px20px;font-family:Garamond,'PalatinoLinotype','BookAntiqua',Calibri,Georgia,serif;letter-spacing:0.10000000149011612px;text-indent:15px;">"Where are you going, my love? We haven't even had breakfast." He smiled. <ac_metadata title="Paramour (short story by me)"> </ac_metadata>