Where Does It Hurt? by Rowan Aubert

Author:Rowan Aubert [Aubert, Rowan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Deroulement Books
Published: 2024-09-13T00:00:00+00:00

June 13, 2024

I wake up in the dark, the room thick with the kind of stillness that only exists before dawn. I reach for my phone, but of course, it’s not there. Emma has it. Sometimes I have it, sometimes I don’t. It’s something I’ve gotten used to. At first, I told myself it was temporary, that I’d ask for it back. But now… it’s just how things are. I let out a breath and push myself out of bed.

The mansion is cold, almost eerie in its quiet. I slip on my robe, the hem brushing against the floor as I pad down the stairs. My feet carry me automatically to the kitchen, and I glance at the clock on the stove—5 a.m. The house feels empty, like a sleeping beast. I could go back to bed, pretend everything’s fine for a few more hours, but my mind is already elsewhere. That door. The one I unlocked before.

I can’t stop thinking about it.

My pulse quickens as I move through the hallway, my bare feet silent on the polished wood. The door is still there, closed, looming like a secret that doesn’t want to be found. I reach into my pocket, my fingers curling around the tweezers. They’ve become my constant companion, my tool for unlocking Emma’s mysteries.

The lock clicks softly, just like before, and the door swings open. The smell hits me immediately—stale, rotten. It’s stronger now, more pronounced, and my stomach turns. The room is dark, but I don’t need much light to know where I’m going. The closet door. I remember the smell coming from it, like something decaying behind the wood. I step closer, my fingers brushing the surface.

There are three locks on it, each one more secure than the last.

I manage to unlock the first, my hand shaking as the lock clicks open. My breath catches. One down. But the second one... it’s too tough. I try to steady myself, but the tweezers aren’t fine enough for this. I stare at the locked door, frustration bubbling inside me. There’s something in there. Something I need to see. But I’m not ready yet.

My gaze drifts to the wall, to the photos I had tried not to look at the last time I was here. And there she is—Elise. Her face, frozen in time, staring back at me from a photograph pinned in the center of Emma’s twisted collage. My sister. I feel a lump rise in my throat.

I should’ve helped her. I should’ve been there when she needed me. But I wasn’t, and now she’s gone. And this… this is the only thing I can do. To find out what happened. To make it right.

I kneel in front of the drawer next to the closet, fumbling with the lock, but the tweezers are too thick. I feel a surge of helplessness rise in me, my chest tightening. I glance at the clock—it’s almost six. I can’t waste more time here. I need to keep moving.

I head back upstairs, the house still cloaked in shadows, the silence suffocating.

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