Second Chances

Marin Feather stood staring at the spot recently vacated by the stodgy old lawyer her uncle had had in his employ for far too many years. Her sight took in the door, which Mr. Aspinall had closed after his parting remark.

"I was only joking," she said in a bare whisper.

Taking a deep breath and turning to take in the whole of the hallway, Marin decided the old coot must have been joking as well. He wanted this place for his precious library, didn't he? Well, maybe he was just trying to spook her.

"Bad choice of words, Marin," she admonished herself. Slowly she moved down the hall, taking with her the tagged keys left on the table. Aspinall's statement of departing servants made her realize she was all alone in her uncle's house. In a haunted house. . .

"Stop it," Marin commanded herself. "Or you'll end up back where they put you before." She straightened her shoulders and shook her short cropped hair. "And we don't want that, do we Ms. Feather? Oh no, no, no. We didn't like that place, did we?" Realizing she was beginning to babble, Marin took the keys and began trying doors.

She approached the first, a double set of heavy carved wood doors. She briefly admired the old fashioned curlicues emblazoned in the wood. They created almost a hypnotic pattern that caused her to shake her head to clear the places her mind was drifting to. Best not to think about that place, she warned herself. Moving one iron key after another, she placed them in the lock and turned. Nothing. None of them seemed to fit. Sighing, she thought about all the fun she was going to have trying to figure this house out. Especially trying to find a bathroom. She spun around and laughed out loud at the preposterous situation she found herself in. Tilting her head back, she stared up at the high vaulted ceiling. The windows way up caught the barest light from outside's dreary day. And sent that small amount of light rainbowing and cascading around the angular cut of the walls in a spider web of color.

Creak!

Marin jumped at the sound, which seemed much louder since there had been nothing besides her own voice and laughter. The unexpected noise sent a chill up her spine and caused her to sharply intake her breath.

Looking around, she spied the door she had been trying to open only a moment before. It stood slightly ajar. The darkness of the room beyond only magnified the feelings she was experiencing. And for a brief second, she felt herself drawn back to the Phoenix County Sanitarium. The darkness of the room, the door open she had not been able to unlock. The memories spilled from that little locked corner of her mind out into her conscious thoughts.

"No, mommy. No! I don't want him to come any nearer. Please mommy!" Shouts and screams. A man crying out in agony. A woman, her mother screaming her name over and over. And her hands covered in red sticky liquid, dripping down the thick knife she held. Then the darkness. The room they put her in. No mommy. No one. All alone. Marin was all alone.

Shaking from the unwelcome memory, Marin found herself holding her arms tightly around her body, rocking back and forth on the heels of her feet. Tears streamed down her face.

"No," she whispered. "Please, no more." Squeezing her eyes tight, Marin wept at the horrid memories of thirteen years ago.

A soft cool touch breezed across her shoulder. A wispy hand of air, trailing incorporeal fingers over her jacket sleeves.

Marin's eyes flew open and she stared at the doors, still closed and, more than likely, still locked. Taking a deep breath to clear her thoughts, she found her determination strong.

"I will make it this time," Marin spoke through clenched teeth. "I will."

Moving back to the hall, Marin picked up her bag and climbed the ornately railed staircase, in search of a bedroom.

From somewhere deep within the bowels of her new home, an ever so wispy, yet not altogether pleasant sound exhaled from the cracked and dingy walls.

'Yes,' it seemed to say. 'You will.'