OPHELIA: Chapter 35

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 35

 

I’d stop wondering after a long while about how cruel people can be and their reasons for their normality of that sort of behavior. Whether you had raped my body or raped my soul, sometimes I ponder which was worse. For the flesh heals and turns to a scar, a trademark of a memory bitten into your body whilst a stab to the soul is bandaged by what people like to prescribe to you as Time. I don’t think time heals these wounds. What? Give me a dose of time and I’ll be fine? Is that it? That’s childish. That’s what society molded us into saying for comfort. That’s what we’ve been normalized into telling a person to comfort them without an actual understanding of the pain inflicted. The deeper I fall into this endless hole, the more I begin to realize that maybe the only way ‘out’ is to accept that I am falling. Perhaps acceptance of the pain is the first step in the remedy of a virgin wound.

Ophelia stared at her scribbled paper and placed her pen to the side. Writing often helped focused her thoughts when there were too many at the same time. She shut the book close and took a small sigh. Her room was dimly lit. Light only swept through from the windows. It was a gloomy day outside, a reflection of her heart it seemed. The grandfather clock echoed through the hallway from downstairs. 12pm. She realized that she hadn’t left her room since, nor moved from her bed. Her body felt heavy and her head was aching. Possibly since she skipped breakfast. Vivian had texted her the location to meet. A time was not mentioned.

Ophelia frowned heavily. She hadn’t responded to it yet. As much as she wanted to run away from it and pretend last night didn’t happen, she knew that she’d regret it if she didn’t meet with Vivian. Maybe it was the least she could have done. After all, she probably wouldn’t have even been found that night by Monty and Stefan if it wasn’t for her.

Grabbing her phone, she quickly messaged.

I’ll be there at 2pm.

The hours quickly flew by. Stefan had taken his mother to the doctor while the rest of the family had kept to themselves. Rosie had been in an utterly morbid state. It was evident she had been crying all night. Her husband hadn’t been here as well. It must have been so lonely for her, Ophelia thought as she stood outside her door after checking in on her.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped outside the manor, walked out towards the road, and waved at the next taxi. She recognized the old man as one of the local taxi drivers of the town. Age dawned on him but his strength seemed to be untouched as he greeted her a good ole’ day. Ophelia showed him the address on her phone and he nodded. The car ride was silent for the most part. He drove carefully as slowly, perhaps too slow for her liking. She probably could have reached faster if she had walked.

In the near distance ahead, a faint image came into her view. The ruins of her first home stood there with the grass almost overgrown and an ache at every corner. Her eyes unknowingly filled with tears but she held herself together. Somehow, the memories were beginning to break her and she remembered the real reason why she left this town. Not because of what had happened to her, not because of what she did, she left because the memories, the pain, the agony, it was too much. The thought of her parents, dead, gutted her as the very first time it was confirmed.

“I knew them,” the old man suddenly began, “Good people. Pity what happened.”

A tear suddenly escaped her left eye. She quickly wiped it away and took a sharp breath to recompose, “How long again?” She asked, changing the topic, to focus on her destination.

“Not far ahead.”

“Good.”

It wasn’t long until the car stopped before a little track. Her mind suddenly felt hazed.

“I can take it from here.” Ophelia paid and thanked him. She shut the door and watched as he drove off. Turning back to the pathway, her head ached. This place…

It felt like a dream.

Like a blurred nightmare.

It didn’t feel right.

She frowned and felt as if a heavy force had consumed over her body. The house wasn’t far ahead she reminded herself. A few thoughts of comfort, and she walked ahead, through the pathway. She’d been here before.

A sick feeling knotted within her stomach.

Her fingers trembled over the white picket fence that boarded the house. Her mind couldn’t process this. Her throat dried. She wanted to stop, to faint, to go back. And yet, her feet kept taking her forward, towards the red painted door. A ball of thick, ached, heavy saliva struggled down her throat. She rang the doorbell. This had to be some mistake.

The door swung open and Terilla stood before her, her faced swelled into a smile. “What a surprise!”

“Indeed,” Ophelia mumbled quietly whilst processing the information before her.

“Rilla,” Vivian suddenly called to her as she made her way to the door, “Let Ophelia inside.”

“Oh sister,” Terilla pouted, “If I had known that Ophelia was coming, I wouldn’t have made a date with my friends.”

Vivian shot her a stern look. Ophelia entered as Terilla left.

“I know this is a lot to absorb right now. I know you must have a million question in your mind.”

Ophelia plastered her frown upon her face. She looked at the woman before her, as she closed the door behind in caution.

“Who are you?” Was all Ophelia could have managed to ask.

**

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