OPHELIA: Chapter 8

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 8

I’d promised myself one thing; once I’d written on a page, I’d never turn back. And for a time, I had managed to place my sin onto paper. But promises, my dear Ophelia, are meant to be broken at some point. Men always do so, so why must we not? I’ve been writing for years. I’d trap these memories like birds within cages and starved it of attention. Its body would rot and stink and if I’m quite honest the decay was unbearable for it brought back bad memories. And yet, my dearest Ophelia, though it pains me to wound you, ask; what good is opening the cage for a dead bird?

Elizabeth closed her journal and placed the inky pen to the side of her desk. The sky through her bedroom window had been an earthy pink with yellow hues which melted softly onto the blue canvas. There was something surreal about the image before her, something tragically poetic. It was calling out to her, like bait on a fisherman’s hook. It taunted her. Reminded her of the box she was trapped in, how soft the outside world is. Just a little step. Just a step outside into the vast world. Just a little taste of how fresher the air must be, less stained of sour blood and empty hearts. What a mirage it was.

The past three days or so she had buried herself in the safety of her room and office, focusing on her designs and ever-so-often found herself writing entries within her keepsake journal to process her thoughts. Sebastian had returned home earlier than often which came as a relief to her for the past few days. She barely wanted anymore interactions with Christopher or his fiancée. Besides, her mind had already been busy worrying about Claire Marie. Regardless of hiring a private detective to gain information on her whereabouts, her mind never found rest nor had she been sleeping properly. Constant worry had been plaguing her and her hope was running quite thin. She was running out of options.

Sebastian’s voice could be heard from the outside of the bedroom, in the study. Christopher had just existed with some documents while Kristen remained fixed, slyly catching glimpses of Sebastian who searched for a particular book on the shelf.

“This is a wonderful house you have here, Mr. Lockwick,” she attempted to make conversation.

“The credit goes to my wife. It was all created for her, in her choices.”

 “But surely it does have a masculine touch.” She took a few steps casually nearer to him. “That to me is the most fascinating part.”

“How so?”

“Oh,” her breath adjusted a bit slower and softer, “With you here, I don’t know, there’s something a bit sensual about a man and a woman alone in a house.” She slowly placed her hand over his elbow and dragged it teasingly towards his wrist which was placed on a certain book.

“I see,” he stated dryly and pulled his hand away, along with the book.

Elizabeth couldn’t bear to see the woman humiliate herself any longer. It made her intensely uncomfortable. Yet, in a way, Christopher’s scandalous fiancée entertained her. She made her way downstairs to take her medications when she found him making a cup of coffee for himself in the kitchen.

“You could have asked the butler,” Elizabeth genuinely suggested. There was a small part of her that felt pity for the man before her. Was he already aware that his future wife had such whore-like qualities?

“I rather not be dependent on anyone.”

“Alright.”

Just as she turned, he answered again, “What’s your game?”

“I beg your pardon?” she arched an eyebrow.

His breath hitched slightly as he took a step near her, “What’s your game?”

She frowned disapprovingly, remembering how triggered and angry he used to be around her. “None you haven’t already played yourself in.”

His teeth clenched and she thought about how karma decided to work upon him. Though there were good memories with him the bad memories always outweighed. She’d remember how he’d invalidate her, how he’d tell her she was too sensitive, she’d remember the times she’d want and beg for a little closure, but he was always too selfish to do so. She remembered how he valued the opinions of other women in his life. How every afternoon after work he’d visit his neighbour to assist her late at night with her job assignments. What was her name again? Kari? Carrie? She can’t even remember. Or perhaps go out on a friendly Valentines’ lunch with another female and blame her for feeling hurt about it. She’d remember how he’d disrespect her and her feelings every single time he had the opportunity. How he’d taken advantage of her heart and how naïve and sincere she was. She’d opened her heart to someone as vicious as him. A boy who couldn’t even own up to his mistakes until now and apologize. A boy who only thought of himself, but it was already too late by the time she realized, for it broke certain parts of her and killed what was left of her inner child. She didn’t deserve that.

Looking at him now, Elizabeth felt nothing but distasteful scorn and pity. Perhaps he deserved such a downfall. For it is said, a man who’d commit such heartless acts in the past must face his present. A present that brings him to the top, only to watch him crumble before he can take in the view. And so, it is said, the higher you are, the more brutal the fall.

Elizabeth was over this by now. She was over him. However, his sudden appearance back into her life did bring in unwanted triggers which is why it was best for her to keep her distance. He didn’t deserve to even be in her presence at this point, which is why she was glad he walked out of the kitchen and away from her.

A sudden pain jolted within her head as she went towards the medical cabinet in the kitchen for her medication. Her worry was becoming of her and this wasn’t the right time. Her vision blurred as she walked up the stairs and her body weakened. The sounds around her faded to a numbing muffle while a silent siren rang into her ears. Her face hit something cold and hard and suddenly there was nothing.

Voices were faintly heard. She shifted and felt soft pillows hug her body. Her eyelids were heavy, too heavy to bear the burden of opening. Her strength fell flat, pressed down like weighing rocks upon her body.

“Four years ago she underwent surgery for a brain aneurysm, is this connected?” She heard Sebastian’s voice softly ask while a woman answered.

“Fortunately, no, her high blood pressure seemed to be from a spike in anxiety and stress-related issues. Has she been taking any medications which were not prescribed for her condition?”

“Not that I know of.” His voice faded in intervals and she could hear few words being exchanged. Doctors. Episode. Remain here. Strange. Continue with her medications. Rare. Under control. Her blurry vision enabled her to see the faint image of a woman in white leaving the room and again a thick molasses blanket covered her to a haunting silence of the senses.

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