Annie's Room Page 11

  “You can't lock her away!”

  “Scott,” he continues, looking down at my brother, “wait downstairs.”

  Scott turns to me.

  “It'll be okay,” I tell him, before looking back at Dad as Scott steps out onto the landing. “Dad, you can't seriously be telling me you locked Mom in the basement. Please, tell me I'm misunderstanding, because that's insane!”

  “It's for her own good. She's acting like a child.” He reaches down and takes Mom's phone from my bed. “She shouldn't have given you this, either.”

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask. “You're acting like some kind of neanderthal, you're -”

  “Annie!” Scott yells.

  I turn just in time to see his shocked face as the door slams shut again, leaving him out on the landing as the door-frame rattles once again.

  “It's you,” I whisper, horrified as I turn to Dad. “What's really happening here? Dad, this house -”

  “There's nothing wrong with this house,” he continues, marching across the room and pulling the door open to reveal a terrified Scott on the other side. “Go downstairs now!” he shouts, before turning back to me. Behind him, Scott turns and hurries away. “Annie,” Dad says firmly, “I told your mother that she was in danger of influencing you and your brother, and right now you're just validating all my concerns. Everyone in this house just needs to calm down, step back, and gain a little perspective.”

  “What are you going to do,” I reply, “lock me in my room?”

  He pauses, before taking a step back. “I don't need to lock you in, really, do I? You're kind of stuck already.” With that, he swings the door shut, leaving me alone.

  “Hey!” I shout, filled with frustration but unable to do a goddamn thing about it. “Get back here!”

  I wait, but all I hear is Dad heading downstairs.

  “You can't do this!” I yell, almost shaking as anger builds in my chest. “You don't have any right! What are you, some kind of complete moron?”

  Suddenly I spot something moving out the corner of my eye. I turn just in time to see the faintest flash of motion in the mirror above the dresser, but I'm too late to see exactly what it is. I wait, my heart pounding as I hold my breath, but the room remains still and calm.

  From downstairs, there's the sound of Dad arguing with Scott. He doesn't even sound like himself anymore.

  Sixteen

  Seventy-one years ago

  I hear the car before I see it. While sitting on the porch steps, scrubbing potatoes for dinner, I look over at the dirt road that leads away from the house and I realize there's a vehicle headed this way. Trying not to panic, I get to my feet just as a dark car rounds the corner at the edge of the forest, and I immediately recognize it as a police vehicle.

  It's getting closer and closer with each passing second.

  Trying not to panic, I start wiping my hands on my apron. Father is out in the forest, doing some work down by the lake, and although my initial reaction is to go into the house and refuse to answer the door, I'm sure the driver of the car must have seen me by now. As I try to work out what to do, I watch the car turning into the yard and finally it comes to a stop just a short distance away. I've never seen a car up close before, so the sight is somewhat shocking. A moment later, the door opens and a police officer steps out. He's smiling, which somehow feels wrong.

  “Is this the Garrett residence?” he asks.

  “I...” Taking a deep breath, I try to stay calm. “It is.”

  “Is Mr. Garrett at home?”

  “He's not,” I reply, as the officer steps around the car and comes closer. “He's out, he'll be out all day.”

  “That's too bad,” the officer says. “I needed to talk to him about something important.”

  “I can't imagine what that might be,” I continue, aware that I'm stammering slightly but unable to stop. “There's nothing you could possibly want with us.”

  “Is that right?” He pauses, with a slight frown. “Are you Mrs. Garrett?”

  “I...” I take a deep breath. “I am,” I say finally, feeling a flash of pride in my chest.

  “I understand you and your husband live here with your daughter.”

  I nod, too scared to speak.

  “Is she around right now?”

  I shake my head.

  “Are you okay, Mrs. Garrett?” he asks. “You seem kinda nervous.”

  “I'm fine,” I blurt out, while cursing my inability to stay calm. “What do you want?”

  “Well...” He pauses, as if he's thinking about something. “Well, to tell you the truth, we got reports that a salesman passing through the area earlier this week heard screams coming from somewhere around here. About Tuesday night?” He pauses yet again, still eying me with a hint of suspicion. “He said it sounded like a woman, sounded real bad too. He didn't get to town to report it until yesterday and, well, we thought we should look into it. From what he said, this house seems like the only likely place for it to have come from. We reckon anywhere else'd be too far off.”

  I wait for him to continue.

  “Mrs. Garrett?” he says after a moment.

  “What?” I ask, forcing a smile.

  “Well... Did you or your family hear screams in this area on Tuesday night?”

  I shake my head. He's talking about Mother's screams, of course, on her first night in the basement, but I can't possibly tell him that.

  “Huh.” He pauses again. “You didn't hear anything?”

  I shake my head again.

  “It's just,” he continues, “the salesman said the screams were real loud, like... Well, it's hard to believe he could've heard them out there on the Montelbat road, but you folks here didn't hear a thing. I mean, he said he didn't think there were any houses out this way at all, but when he described the area, we realized there's this place so...” His voice trails off. “Well, M'am, it just seems a little odd, don't you think?”

  “I don't know,” I reply.

  “You don't know?”

  “I mean... I don't know what he heard, but I certainly didn't hear anything. Neither of us did.”

  “Neither of you?”

  “I mean, none of us. We didn't hear a thing.”

  He opens his mouth to say something, but again he pauses. “You do seem awfully nervous, Mrs. Garrett. Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me? Maybe while your husband's away from the property?”

  I shake my head, while fighting the urge to burst into tears.

  “Huh.” He pauses again. “And when do you expect your husband back?”

  “Later.”

  “Later?”

  I nod.

  “I see. Well...” He looks around for a moment, as if he's looking for something or someone. “Sorry,” he continues, turning back to me, “just to be clear in my mind... You're Mrs. Garrett? Rebecca Garrett?”

  I pause, before nodding.

  “Okay. Sorry, it's just that you look quite...” Another pause. “And your daughter, that would be Annie Garrett, I believe?”

  “She's out.”

  “I see. Out where?”

  “With her father. It's perfectly natural. I mean, it's normal. I mean...”

  My voice trails off, and I can't help thinking that it's better if I say as little as possible.

  “Funny, really,” he continues, taking off his hat and scratching the top of his head. “What with her being named Annie, and all.”

  “Why is that funny?” I ask.

  “Well, it's just... What with the other Annie who drowned all those years back.” He sighs, before setting his hat back on his head and turning back to go to his car. “Well, I'll be -”

  “What other Annie?” I ask, taking a step toward him. “Who drowned?”

  He turns to me, before looking toward the trees and pointing. “You don't know about Annie Shaw? There was a family who lived in this house about fifty years ago, before your husband's family moved here. Anyway, from what I hear, the previous owners had
one child, a little girl named Annie, same name as your daughter, Mrs. Garrett.” He pauses, watching the trees for a moment. “Little Annie drowned one summer, just disappeared in the middle of the lake. They say the family was so distraught, the father ended up drinking himself to death and the mother moved away. Such a tragic story.”

  “There was another girl named Annie here?” I ask, shivering a little at the suggestion. “How...”

  For a moment, I think back to that day when I saw a face staring up at me from the depths of the lake. I'd written that moment off as some kind of trick of the light, but now...

  “Well I'm sorry I disturbed you folks,” he says finally, heading back to his car. “I just thought you'd most likely have heard something, but if you didn't, you didn't.” He opens the door before turning to me. “Please tell your husband and daughter that I called by, and let them know that if they heard anything at all, they should get in touch with me at the Dunceford police station. Now that's very important, you understand? If they heard anything, even if it didn't seem like something important, they need to let us know, even though...” He pauses, looking around. “Well, it's probably nothing.”

  I nod.

  He dips his hat at me. “Well, M'am, good day to you.”

  I watch as he gets into his car and starts the engine. Frozen to the spot, I feel as if I can't move a muscle as his car pulls away and heads back along the dirt road. Even after he's out of sight beyond the line of trees in the distance, I stay standing, feeling a sense of cold dread creeping up my arms and across my shoulders. I can't even remember the last time I had to speak to someone from the town, and I'm not entirely sure that I allayed all of his concerns. Still, I'm sure he'll keep away; after all, I told him that we didn't hear any screams, and he has no reason to think me a liar. I sit back down to finish the potatoes, but my hands are trembling and I feel as if I'll cut myself if I continue, so I simply take a deep breath and wait for the fear to pass. The police officer won't be back, I know he won't. Why would he?

  After a moment, I look toward the trees, and it's not hard to imagine a little girl staring back at me. Another Annie, a girl with the same name as me. As another shudder passes through my body, I get back to work.

  Seventeen

  Today

  It's late and the room is dark by the time I hear footsteps on the stairs again. I've spent the past few minutes staring out the window, watching the line of trees at the far end of the lawn; I look out every night like this, just soaking in the sense of emptiness and isolation while wondering about the little nudge in my chest, the hint that makes me think something might be staring back at me. Of course, tonight this is a way to distract myself from everything else that's going on, namely: why is my father suddenly such an asshole?

  Still, it can't last much longer.

  Mom'll put him in his place.

  She has to. There's no way she's some kind of doormat.

  A moment later, there's a creak on the floorboards outside my room, and a second after that the door starts to inch open, casting a shaft of light that slowly crosses my bed.

  I already know who it is.

  “I brought you some food,” Dad says calmly.

  I wait as he comes over to the bed and sets a plate on my bedside table. I know he's looking at me, but I don't want to dignify him by even looking at his miserable face right now. I honestly think I'd throw up, so instead I keep looking out the window, watching the distant trees.

  “You know,” he continues, “I expected your brother to act like a child. After all, he is a child. But you?” He waits for me to say something. “You're old enough to know better, Annie. You shouldn't sulk, it's a very immature way of dealing with things.”

  “So's locking someone in a basement,” I reply through gritted teeth. “Did you let her out yet?”

  “I'm going to do that soon.”

  I feel more anger bubbling through my body. I swear, if I could use my legs, I'd get out of this bed, storm downstairs, and start setting everything right. In my entire life, I've never felt so helpless.

  “Scott ate his dinner,” Dad says after a moment.

  “Great.”

  “I hope you'll eat yours too.”

  “I'm not hungry.”

  “Annie -”

  I turn to him, although the sight of his calm face immediately makes me want to wretch. “At what point in your life,” I continue, “did you decide it's okay to start locking Mom in the goddamn basement?”

  He sighs. “I was worried your mother's irrational fears would start to rub off on you and your brother. And, to be fair, that's exactly what has happened. Started to happen, anyway. I'm going to set that right.”

  “So you think this house is perfectly normal?”

  “Come on, Annie, you've always been more like me, you know all that paranormal garbage is just... It's dumb. It's the kind of thing people like your mother believe so they can pretend there's something more to the world.” He reaches down to touch the side of his face, but I pull away. “I've always felt that you're smarter than all of this garbage, Annie. Honestly, I had you pegged as an intelligent, rational young woman.” He waits for a reply. “I hope you're not going to prove me wrong.”

  I take a deep breath, trying to keep from bursting into tears.

  “With all due respect,” he continues, “you have no idea what's really going on in this house. Sitting up here in bed, you must have ended up with a very warped perspective. You don't know what it's been like down there in the rest of the house over the past few days, your mother has... Well, let's just say that she's been acting very strangely. I even considered calling a doctor out, but I decided against it. We can handle all of this within the family, we don't need outsiders interfering.”

  “Outsiders?” I pause for a moment, staring at him. “That doesn't sound like something you'd say, Dad.”

  “You don't understand. You've been up here all the time.”

  “You make it sound like I had a choice,” I mutter bitterly, through gritted teeth.

  “Please don't start believing in the kind of thing your mother -”

  “I believe in what I see,” I reply, interrupting him. “Things that happen right in front of me, that's what I believe in and...” Feeling as if I'm being watched, I turn and glance at the open door. The brightly-lit landing looks bare, but at the same time I can't shake the feeling that something or someone is out there. After a moment, I see that light is catching the edges of something on the door-frame, and I realize it's picking out the words 'Annie's room' carved into the wood. “This isn't a good house,” I continue. “You said you didn't want Mom to know about what happened here, but she's picked up on it all by herself.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “Then how do you -”

  “She obviously read something,” he replies. “Maybe she found the pages you'd been reading using her phone. Either that, or you disobeyed me and told her.”

  “Disobeyed you? What is this, the nineteenth century?”

  “Don't be smart with me, young lady.”

  “Young lady? Since when did you start calling me that?”

  “I can't talk to you right now,” he replies, turning and heading across the room. He stops in the dark corner for a moment, and then he starts to wheel my chair out onto the landing.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, sitting up.

  “We don't want you getting any dumb ideas again, do we?” he says, stepping back in and taking my crutches too. “You've already tried to get up without permission once.”

  “Permission? What am I, a prisoner?”

  “Of course not, but you're a child and you're stubborn.” He stops in the doorway, watching me for a moment. “I expected this kind of irrational nonsense from your mother, and Scott's just a kid, but Annie... I really thought you were mature and smart enough to keep your head. I guess I was wrong about you.”

  “I guess I was wrong about you too,” I tell him.

  He pauses for a momen
t.

  “I have to go and check on your mother,” he says finally, before checking his watch. “It's getting late, you should eat your dinner and then sleep. With any luck everything'll be back to normal by breakfast and we can put this unpleasantness behind us. I hope you'll play your part in that process, Annie.”

  I watch in stunned silence as he closes the door.

  “Can you at least leave that open?” I call out.

  A moment later, I hear him wheeling the chair away.

  “Are you serious?” I shout, listening to the sound of him heading downstairs. “What the hell is this, some kind of -”

  Stopping suddenly, I realize I can see a shadow moving across the line of light at the bottom of the door, as if someone is out there on the landing. I wait, but after a moment I realize I can hear Dad talking to Scott down in the kitchen.

  “Hello?” I say finally, trying not to sound scared. “Is someone there?”

  The shadow loiters, but the door remains closed.

  “I can see you,” I continue. My heart is pounding in my chest and I feel as if every muscle in my body is tensing up. “What do you want?”

  I wait.

  The shadow remains for a few more seconds, before slipping away.

  “Hey!” I call out, but it's too late. I sit and watch the door for a few more minutes, just in case there's any further sign of someone out there, and then I settle back on the bed. After a moment I reach out and switch on the nightlight. The room is bare and empty, but I can't shake the feeling that someone is nearby.

  It must be Annie Garrett. After all, I'm in her room.

  Eighteen

  Seventy-one years ago

  “No!” I scream as two of the officers manhandle me through the door and out onto the porch. “Stop! You can't do this!”

  “Mrs. Garrett, please -”

  “Stop!”

  “Get her to the car,” one of the other officers says. “She's getting hysterical.”

  “No!” Lashing out, I slam my elbow into the first officer's face and slip free, before two others grab me and pull me back. I reach out toward Father, who's sitting calmly and quietly at the kitchen table as if he's just going to let this happen. “Tell them!” I scream. “Tell them we didn't do anything wrong!”