A stranger in the attic

“Is, are you sure you want to go? I can book you a flight anywhere that you-“

“Mom,” Isabel interjected, giving her a look. Letting out a long, exasperated sigh she turned her attention back to folding her shirts neatly into her suitcase. She closed her eyes and laid her hands on the soft cotton fabric of her white summer dress. “I need to get some fresh air, and the cabin is the only place I want to get it from. I just need to get my head straight, you know?”

“Is this because of Joshua?” Her mother blurted out, getting ahead of herself.

“No!” Isabel snapped a little too sharply, earning a surprised and appraising glance from her mothers hazel eyes. Isabel knew that that reaction gave her the answer her mother had wanted. She was only waiting for Isabel to say it out loud. “Yes and no.” She finally admitted, running a hand through her newly dyed hair. She had gone with a more subtle dark red this time. Orange wasn’t really her mood lately.

“Oh Isabel,” her mother sighed, shaking her head. “You shouldn’t have gone to the wedding…”

Isabel sat down on the bed next to her mother, setting her hands in her lap. “No, I’m glad I went, I-“ she paused, letting out a pained breath. “I just need to let him go.”

 

 

The lake was just how she had remembered it. She swore that if she held up a photograph of the cottage next to the real thing, you would be able to tell the difference despite the age gap. She had also thought the house only seemed big when she was little because she was so young, but it really was a big cottage. Too big to even carry the name of a cozy, cabin by the lake.

Its chimney was made of stone and dark shingles covering most of the roof and sides of the house, its Victorian style windows and architecture complete with a wrap around porch and the old porch swing that faced the water. Isabel stood before the cobbled path in all its glory before taking a breath and walking up the path. She smiled at the sound of the wooden steps creaking as she walked onto the porch as she set down her bags to rummage her pockets for the key.

 

Once she succeeded, she put the key into the lock and turned until she heard a click. Slowly, she opened the door and let it open on its own, taking in the whole atmosphere. Light streamed through the windows across the furniture and the rugs, she could see bits of dust floating in the air.

 

The first thing Isabel noticed that wasn’t here the last time she had stayed here with her mother was all of the painted and unpainted canvases leaned against the walls and stacked on one side of the dining room table. Her mother often stored some of her things here so Isabel didn’t think much of it.

 

The fatigue from the drive started to take its toll on her, influencing her decision to make the bedroom her next destination while reminiscing about childhood memories. Picking up her suitcases once again, Isabel made her way up the staircase, down the hall, to the door of the master bedroom. She twisted the doorknob slowly, letting the door creak open softly as she entered the room, setting her suitcases down, peeling off her jacket and kicking off her shoes. Her main and only focus in that moment was the cozy queen sized bed in front of her: where she would spend a few hours of the afternoon in a long-awaited slumber.

 

 

 

Isabel woke up to darkness and the sound of crickets from outside her window filled her ears. She groaned and looked at the clock, realizing she missed her chance of going back into town for groceries. She got up to a sitting position slowly, letting her body take its time to adjust. She ran a hand through her disheveled hair and let out a long sigh. Her breath suddenly hitched in her throat when she heard the sound of faint sound of music playing from the ceiling. Music was coming from the attic loft. Panicking, she realized someone must have broken in.

Did she remember to lock the front door? She didn’t think much of it at the time since it was a remote location by the lake. The only other residence nearby was another house on the other side of the lake.

What if a homeless person just wandered into the house?

Isabel moved as quickly and as quietly as she could to rummage through her suitcase for something that could be used as a defensive weapon. She grabbed the hair dryer hastily and opened the bedroom door, quietly praying to not make a sound.

Isabel tiptoed cautiously up the next flight of stairs almost like in a horror movie, where the girl tries to escape the killer but he pops up out of the corner and slashes her throat. Isabel quickly shook her head of those kinds of thoughts but still grasped her throat just at the thought of it. Nevertheless, she continued on to the loft, noticing that the door was left cracked open, letting light streak across the stairs. Isabel squinted at the sudden light and stopped when she reached the door, her heart pounding in her chest as she dared to take a peek at her intruder.

 

            To her shock and dismay, the supposed intruder was PAINTING! IN HER HOUSE! Humming along to Elvis on the radio!

Isabel swallowed hard and found herself studying him. He had to be at least six feet tall. He had sandy blond hair that was lightly tousled from the back. She could see his back muscles flex through his as he moved the paintbrush across the canvas. She leaned forward to get a closer look at this mysterious man and lost her balance. She put her hands out to the door to keep herself from falling. Her weight swung open the door, nearly sending Isabel sprawling into the room.

 

She had caught his attention. Breathing heavily, she tried to put herself back together, ready to run and throw at a moments notice. He quickly turned around at the sound. “It’s about time you"“

WHACK!

 

Isabel had screamed and chucked the hairdryer at him as he staggered back, clutching his forehead. She had hit him in the head.

“Nice way to greet someone!” He exclaimed, letting out a groan as he bent down and writhed in pain. “Shi--- what the hell did you hit me with?” he asked again as Hayley stared at him from the floor in disbelief.

“F**k that hurts!” he yelled again.

He pulled back his hand and Isabel saw a trail of blood trickling down his cheek. Finally snapping out of it, she scrambled to her feet.

            “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She gasped. “You’re bleeding!” She exclaimed as she tried to take a closer look at his forehead. But as her gaze trailed up to his injury, they stopped and locked with a pair of green eyes. Not just any green eyes. These eyes had gold around the irises; almost making his eyes look amber with his eyebrows knitted in pain.

His eyes slowly softened as he too, took in the pair of eyes staring back at him. “I know.” He said softly.

If Isabel weren’t so concerned about his injury, she would’ve laughed. Then again, she kept forgetting that he was a perfect stranger, in her house! “Let me go get the first aid kit,” Isabel stammered, turning her heel to go back down the steps. She heard him start to follow her. “No, no. Stay where you are! You might pass out.” She ordered him before racing down the stairs to the bathroom.

She rummaged through the mirror medicine cabinet for a bottle of ibuprofen, grabbed the first aid kit from underneath the sink, and wetted a washcloth before racing back upstairs. She found him sitting on the worn green couch, with his palm still pressed to his forehead. She motioned for him to lie down and set the cloth on his forehead before she grabbed a nearby stool and set it near the couch, and sat down to open up the first aid kit. “Thanks, umm..” he trailed off, not knowing her name.

 

“Isabel.” She said simply, taking the cloth of his head, to sterilize the cut. He winced at the touch of the alcohol. “And who might you be?” she asked almost snarkily.

 

“O’Callaghan. John O’Callaghan.” He said slyly, wincing again at the peroxide.

 

“Well Mr. O’Callaghan, can you tell me why are you up here in my loft, painting in the middle of the night?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

He chuckled and looked up at her. “Well Miss Williams, I live here.”

Author's Note

What do you think of it so far?

Reviews

[Melody]

LOVE IT!! I don't care how late I am! I love it! :D

[SimplyDelicious]

WOAH, so they're roommates? Awesome twist.

I love it, keep me updated