Lonely

A strange meeting in the woods on a dark, stormy night.

            In a dreary forest in the middle of nowhere, dark clouds and torrential rain blocked out the sky. The only sign of light was the headlights of one broken down car. The owner was frantically trying to find the source of the problem, cursing the seven miles between him and the nearest gas station. Slamming the hood down and hoisting his jacket above his head, he jumped inside the car to escape the downpour.

            Shaking the water out of his hair, he took out his phone to try and call someone. He tried the repair man, no response. He tried his friend, no response. He tried his family, no response. It was just his luck that this was one of the few areas where there was no service. Frustrated, he tried turning on the radio, only to be greeted with static. He slammed his fist against the dashboard, hoping something would start to work.

            Head hung low, all he could think about was the terrible night ahead. Reaching to turn off the headlights, he stopped when he noticed something in-between the trees. Putting the head lights on high, and turning on the windshield wipers, he could barely make out a large structure, nestled between the trees. Taking the keys out of the ignition and zipping up his jacket, he headed out into the rain to investigate.

            Climbing through a thicket of bushes, he stood in front of an intimidating, black, iron fence, with jagged points to keep away unwanted guests. Pushing on the gate, it swung open easily with a loud groan. Within the confines of the gate was a two-story house, painted black with white curtains drawn on all the windows. The house looked ancient, with architecture that hadn’t been seen for decades. Walking towards the building, he noticed a simple flower garden, which had become a monstrous growth of weeds and vines that engulfed the lower front of the building.

Trying to open the door, he found it to be locked tight, so he knocked, figuring it couldn’t hurt. Waiting for a few minutes, he considered that it was probably a stupid idea to think someone would answer. Walking away from the door, he heard the distinct sound of someone running down a set of stairs. He turned to hear the clicks of locks being undone.

            The door opened slightly and he saw a girl’s pale white face, hidden behind a veil of black hair. She looked anxious and scared, like she was expecting the grim reaper to take her away.

            “Hello?” she asked, with a small, quiet voice.

            The man briefly explained his situation, asking if it would be okay for him to use her phone. The girl seemed nervous, like a mental argument was going on in her head. Opening the door a little more, she put an open hand to her chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t have a phone, but you can come inside if you want.”

            He stepped inside the house and hung his jacket on the coat rack. The house was dimly lit by a series of candles, illuminating walls made of oak and an antique rug with intricate patterns of red and gold on the floor. Walking further in, he noticed that he had entered a sort of foyer, leading into the rest of the house. The small entryway drew focus to the large staircase leading up to the second floor. Brushing a hand against the bannister, it felt as smooth as silk, with markings hand carved into the ornament adorning the end. It was a near perfect work of craftsmanship, save for a large crack on the bottom step. It looked like something had struck it hard.

            The girl shut the door, holding a candle in her hand. She looked to be in her early twenties, with eyes that showed wisdom beyond her years.  Black hair was draped over her shoulder and half of her face, pale and sunken in, as if suffering from a form of malnourishment. She wore a plain, black dress with white frills on the sleeves and flat shoes, both of which, more likely to be worn by an old woman than someone her age.

            “This way please,” the girl said walking in front of him and guiding him down a hallway. He was led into a living room, with an old fashioned fire place and a large collection of books lined up on the shelves. The girl took it upon herself to light the fire and offer a chair to him. For a while, the two sat in silence, not knowing what to do.

             “M-my name is Lily,” the girl stuttered out, wanting to break the silence.

            In return the man gave his name.

            “Oh, that’s a nice name,” she responded, trying to force some form of conversation.

            “What are you doing out here by yourself?”

            “Oh, um,” she responded, surprised at the abrupt question. “I moved out here when I got a small inheritance from my uncle. I barely knew him, but he gave generously to most of my family when he died. My family started to get a bit greedy after that. They kept trying to get each other’s share and horde it as much as possible. I figured it was about time for me to leave the house, so I picked out a good spot in the woods and had this house built for me.”

            The flickering flame brought a glare to the various vases and statues among the books. A log fell over, and Lily jumped in her seat. “Sorry, I’ve been a bit anxious recently”

            “Considering how remote this place is, I can’t say I’m surprised. You must have known that not many people come out here.”

            “Oh I knew full well of that. Actually, that’s the entire reason I picked this area in the first place.”

            He was confused, and waited for her to give some kind of answer. Lily just stared, silently at the fire.

“Do you want to tell me why?,” he prodded.

            She began twiddling her thumbs. “I’m not exactly the most sociable person. Even when I was a child, I preferred playing by myself. It wasn’t for a lack of trying though. On multiple occasions, my parents brought me to parties and other gatherings. I tried talking with people my own age, but…” Lily trailed off, looking for the right words. “I, just wasn’t able to interact with them for long periods of time.”

            “I made a handful of friends, which was a wonderful surprise to my parents. However, as the years went on we became further, and further apart. We barely even saw each other by the time my inheritance came in. I guess it was better in the long run. Just would have been more people to come and try to get some of the money.”

            Lily’s face became sorrowful. “But that didn’t stop them from coming. Each one trying to spend time with me and get on my good side. I had people that had shunned me, begging at the door. It was all too much.”

            The man laid back in the chair and tried to get comfortable, although it felt like the chair hadn’t been cleaned in decades. “With no one else out here you must get bored right?”

            “Not really. When I had this house built, I took it upon myself to gather a collection of books that would last me quite a bit of time.” Lily smiled. “Reading was always my method of calming down after forced social interaction. With no one to bother me, I could read over a thousand pages in a day. It became my goal at every party to find the nearest book and hide myself away so no one would bother me. I had to start getting creative once my parents found out. They had family members keep me in their sight at all times. That didn’t stop me though,” Lily declared, with pride. “I became very adept at evading my stricter relatives. A few of them actually helped me.”

            Lily tilted her head down and lowered her voice. “Books were also the reason my family began to resent me. They couldn’t take it anymore. My father began to systematically destroy every book I had. One day I came home to find him making a bon fire with my book collection. Tears streaming down my eyes, I begged him to stop, but it was no use. He destroyed my entire collection.” Lily hugged herself tight.

            “That’s awful.”

            “I wasn’t able to get any more books after that. The few that survived, I had to keep hidden, or otherwise they would just be more fuel to the fire. The only thing he allowed was the bible and the occasional school book. To his delight I did start going to my friends’ houses more often, even if it was to borrow their books. I am quite grateful that I no longer have to worry about that.”

            “I’d would say so,” the man said, remarking on her shelves, upon shelves of books. “Looks like you’ve outdone yourself in reclaiming your collection.”

            Lily seemed to perk up a little bit, “Yes, that’s where I spent most of the inheritance.” Lily stood up and began walking alongside one of the bookcases. She slid her hand along the spines of the books, caressing the intricate designs on each of them. “Sadly, I think I underestimated my own ability. I’ve only lived here for a couple of years and I’m already nearing the end of my collection.” Lily stopped as her fingers left the last of the books. “I don’t know what I’ll do when I run out of things to read.”

            Hearing this, the man searched around his pockets and pulled out a small, raggedy book. It was paperback book that he had bought for dollar right before a trip. The cover was a combination of geometric shapes of varying colors. The title was covered by the ripped remains of a price down sticker. If he looked close enough he could make out the title, “An Unusual Shape.”

“If that’s the case, why don’t you take this?” The man handed Lily the book, who eyes immediately lit up as she looked over the worn-out book.

            “Are you sure? I don’t want you to give something to me in exchange for staying here.”

            “Don’t worry about it. I’ve read it a hundred times already. I picked it up at random and it became one of my favorites. I was actually planning on getting a new copy anyway.”

            Lily flipped open the book, reading the summary on the inside. “I haven’t heard of this one.”

            “Really? It was really popular a few years back. It’s hard to believe that someone like you would miss that.”

            “Well,” Lily began to say, turning her face toward the bookshelf and placing her newly acquired treasure in an open spot in exchange for another book. “I haven’t had a chance to acquire new books lately, let alone keep in touch with what’s going on in the public. Part of isolating myself meant trying to block out as many outside sources as possible.”

            Lily sheepishly, walked over to the man and held out the book. “Please, take this.”

            The man gently held the tome in his hands, treating it like it was made of glass. The pages were bound with black leather, and the title written in golden letters on the front, “The Lone Flower”. The man eased the book open, seeing the pages yellowed with age, yet not a single rip or tear to be found.

            “I can’t take this,” the man said, trying to hand the book back to Lily.

            Lily pushed the book back into his hands. “No, please take it. It’s only fair that you get a book in exchange. It will be a little reminder for both of us.”

            “I can hardly say that our meeting has been that memorable,” he replied, begrudgingly holding the book in his arms, planning to put it back when he got a chance.

            Lily’s eyes became filled with dread. “I didn’t do anything to offend you, did I?”

            “No, no!” he replied, realizing his poor word choice. “It’s just, I haven’t met someone so enamored to have a guest is all.”

            With a sigh of relief, Lily reassumed a calm demeanor. “I see what you mean. I’ve just been so lonely. After a while I began to miss the family and friends I abandoned when I moved out here.”

            Making sure the book was in the right place, Lily checked on the fire and sat in her chair. “I’ve become somewhat desperate for company. The other day I heard a knock at the door and was so excited I ran down the stairs and fell” She let out a small laugh. “Turns out it was just some curious woodpecker. I ended up cracking both the stairs and my forehead, just for the sake of some bird.”

            “You cracked your head? Did you call someone?”

            “No, I took care of it.”

            “No one just takes care of a cracked skull. You must have gotten someone, or else we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

            “R-really it was fine,” Lily stuttered out, turning her back to him. “Just needed a bit of rest is all.”

            As if on cue, the grandfather clock in the living room chimed midnight. “Oh is it that late already?” Lily quickly said, trying to change the subject. “We really must be getting to bed.”

            Before the man could say anything, Lily began pushing him up the stairs, for the first time showing some sign of strength.  She opened the door to a bedroom with even more books and a full-size bed. The man sat on the bed, feeling the age of the bed as every spring seemed to strain against his weight.

            “I’m sorry, I really don’t use this bed much, but it’s all I can spare at the moment. I hope it’s enough.”

            “It’s fine,” the man reassured her, placing the book on the nearby nightstand and fluffing pillows in an attempt to make the bed somewhat comfortable.

            Lily began to close the door behind her. “Good night. I hope I haven’t troubled you too much.”

            “Not at all. Thank you again for letting me stay here to tonight.”

            “Well, it was nice to have someone around, even if it is for just a short time. I thank you for that.” Lily stood at the door, the man could see her eyes had perked up for the first time since he arrived at the house.

            “Good night.”

            “Good night.”

            Lily closed the door behind her and the man tried his best to go to sleep. He could hear Lily downstairs, putting out the fire and climbing up the stairs to go to her own bed he assumed. Eventually, even on the old bed, he drifted off to sleep.

            He awoke to the sounds of chirping birds, slowly rising him from his slumber. The room looked much less dreary as the sun’s rays shined through the window. Sitting next to his bedside was the book given to him by Lily. He figured that it was a good a time as any to return the book and find a way to get back to civilization.

            Tiptoeing down the staircase, he once again passed by the cracked bottom step. Intentionally, he skipped it, feeling some sort of dread. He crept into the living room, the fireplace only ashes and the clock still stuck at 12. Placing the book back on the shelf, right next to the one he gave her, he decided it would be best to at least say goodbye before he left.

            He crept upstairs and began to search for Lily’s room. He knocked on every door, hoping to wake her up gently. Opening each of the doors, he found a master bath, a large clothing closet, a food cellar, and a few rooms devoted solely to storing more books. It appeared that the only bedroom in the entire house was the one he slept in.

            Stepping outside onto the overgrown lawn, he called out her name, hoping to find her. Walking towards the back of the house, he gazed upon what used to be a magnificent garden, overrun with vines covering the marble statues. In the center stood a dry fountain, depicting a mermaid holding a jug of water, which he presumed used to flow into the fountain. Standing in the back of the garden was a single tombstone, impossible to read due to the overabundance of vines and the wording being withered away from age. It was time to leave.

            He returned to the house one last time to get his jacket, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of Lily. Walking through the ancient, black iron gates, he got into his car, miraculously starting up the first time he turned the key. As was about to leave, he felt something in his jacket pocket. It was the book Lily had given him. Opening the front cover he found something scribbled in ink on the first page.

            Thank you for being my friend.

           -Lily

Reviews

[Marie]

This is a good story; mysterious, very well written.