OPHELIA: Chapter 32

Blurb

Elizabeth Lockwick wants one thing… to ensure Ophelia remains dead.

For years she’s weaved a life seen through rose-coloured glasses in idyllic Vermont with her husband Sebastian Lockwick, an alluring man with a broken moral compass, whose intent lies in protecting his wife. However, apart from her unorthodox understanding of Sebastian’s dark and gritty hidden nature, she finds herself slipping away from her sanity in maintaining this picturesque life.

After receiving a gruesome gift from an unknown sender threatening to expose her, she finds herself haunted and possibly hunted by her buried past.

In order to make things right for herself and ensure that her secret is hidden, she reluctantly travels back to her sleepy small hometown in Wisconsin. A town where young girls seem to be mysteriously disappearing. There, she reunites with the dysfunctional Pierre-Louis’, a French-American family who sheltered her in their manor in her time of need.

With time slipping away, she struggles with her guilt and a dangerous affair and realizes that perhaps Ophelia wasn’t dead after all these years.

Elizabeth suddenly finds herself caught in a game of cat and mouse, unsure of which she really is this time and who she can trust.

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Chapter 32

 

Ophelia shifted restlessly on her bed. Sleep was the furthest thing from her right now. She closed her eyes again for the seventy second attempt to rest but pushed herself up in frustration. She grabbed the bottled water from her bedside table and chugged it down her throat. Getting off the bed, she walked towards the window for some fresh air when she noticed suddenly that there was an individual sitting at the bench in the garden. It was almost midnight, why would anyone be down at this hour? A feeling of unease drifted solemnly within her. She only saw the back of the person’s head but after squinting she assumed the image to be that of a woman with slicked yellow hair tied into a ponytail. The lights were dim and it truly was difficult to see any further. The woman turned to the side where Ophelia got a glimpse of her face. Vivian?

Although her spirit told her no, her feet rebelled against her thoughts and sent her out of the room, down the stairs and towards the back door which led to the garden. Something was off. Something here wasn’t right and she could feel it within her soul and bones. Cautiously, she walked behind. The crisp grass crunched beneath her soft shoes as the night air danced in shivers around her arms.

“You needn’t be afraid,” Vivian softly called. “I’m the last one to even be afraid of.”

“Vivian,” Ophelia frowned as she stood at the side of the seated woman who stared into the darkness of a thick tree deeply ahead. She was lost. Lost in a memory. Lost and almost somehow defeated, “Why are you here?”

She did not speak. Her silence drifted between them as her gaze remained fixed.

Ophelia swallowed, concerned, and took a seat beside her, “I thought you left a while back.”

“I did,” she finally answered, “I did.”

“What is this?”

Vivian sighed softly and lowered her eyes, slightly tilting her head to the side. “I tried. I tried to stop it.”

“What?”

She shook her head, “For years, years I tried to prevent this but I failed. I’m failing. Just like I did as a child.”

“Vivian, are you alright?” Ophelia asked, now concerned about the woman’s mental state before her. “Would you like to go inside? I can call a doctor. You look pale.”

“No,” she laughed in a sad bitter way. “That won’t help.”

“Are you ill? Weak? Come inside, you’ll catch a cold if you sit out like this.”

“No.” she protested firmly, and her voice then softened, “No.”

“How can I help you then?” Ophelia asked.

“Do you want to know the truth?”

Ophelia’s heart stopped. Those words. The truth? There were many truths surrounding her life adorned in quilted lies. Yet, the only truth she was concerned about was Marie’s. Had Vivian…? No. She couldn’t. Why would she? And yet, most of the evidents were pointing towards her. This could have been the only opportunity for Ophelia to learn the truth. She could put an end to this once and for all if it is that Vivian confesses. And yet again, she couldn’t believe this.

“What truth?”

“I want to show you a place,” Vivian stood, and began walking ahead.

A flush of anxiety swept across Ophelia. Where was she going? What did she want to show her? Should she even have followed her? Something within her told her she wouldn’t like it and something inside her told her that following her was also necessary. Was she taking her to the place where Claire took her last breath? God. Taking a deep breath, she made a decision and quickly turned her location on for Charlie just incase something goes wrong.

 Vivian walked towards her car parked at the side, silently got in, and unlocked the passenger seat door for Ophelia. The harsh chilled air ate away at her flesh. Was getting in this car a bad idea? She had a choice. She could walk away. And yet, it felt impossible. If she did, she knew she wouldn’t forgive herself. She’d be filled with regret, with ‘what ifs’. Her heart flipped as she opened the car door and took the seat.

The car drove through the dimly lit road almost in agony, not wanting to reach to its destination. Or perhaps, that was a feeling that crawled within her insides. The minutes felt like hours. Long, strained, endless hours like drips of water trying to fill a large bucket. Vivian remained silent along the way. Her eyes remained fixed upon the road and her mind within a memory.

“What is this, Vivian?”

No answer.

She suddenly pulled the car aside at the edge of a forest track and got out. Without a word, she began walking through the track with a flashlight. Ophelia frowned. She was having a dreadful feeling about this. Getting out the car, she hesitated before following her.

“This is madness, Vivian. Where are you going?” Ophelia shouted. The woman hadn’t stopped. What if this was important? Reluctantly, she followed. A little way in, Vivian stopped near a well. “Do you remember?” She asked.

“What?”

“Do you remember?”

“I-” Ophelia shivered, “I- don’t understand.”

“God!” Vivian paced in frustration.

“What is this all about?”

She walked and leaned against the trunk of a tree, tilting her head back and closing her eyes to allow her face to be soaked in the moonlight peeping through the leaves above. “You need to remember.”

Ophelia’s heart drummed within her chest. This place… she looked around. It was familiar. A sinister feeling crept up her spine about this place.

“Walk down the little hill behind me. Behind the tree,” Vivian sighed. “I need you to remember.”

“This- is this about Claire?… where she-”   

“No. God no.” Vivian frowned with tired eyes towards her. An unsettling silence drifted between them. “Whether you call yourself Ophelia or Elizabeth, whether you move away from this town, it doesn’t change what happened. It doesn’t change the truth.”

**

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