The House By The River: A Paranormal Horror Novel

Chapter 7

More than twenty minutes had already passed since Matt left but no one has come down yet. Emmy was almost done with the dishes for breakfast. Fried eggs, toasted bread, and veggie bacon were on the menu. An assortment of spreads was already on the table. Once cooking was done, Emmy went over to the coffee maker to brew fresh coffee for her and Matt. Then, she put out juice on the table for the kids.

Hearing no sounds coming from upstairs yet, Emmy sat down on a chair that faced a window. Her attention began to wander as she looked at the trees that provided a natural wall around the house, their leaves peacefully obeying the command of the light wind that blew from the river behind the house. The early sun streaked through the window opposite her, its rays falling on the table, lending a yellowish tint to the deep brown, wooden surface.

She felt someone pass behind, the shadow falling on the edge of the table beside her.

“Good morning honey, where are you going?”

The coffee maker sounded off. Emmy got up, approached it, and turned it off.

“I’m just going to check on the flowers mom,” came the reply, followed by the opening and closing of the back door.

Since they moved in, Jean had shown interest in the ornamental plants that they kept in pots and flower boxes outside, along the sides of the house. That was a relief to her, at least Jean had something that can keep her busy. Gina would prove to be challenging, she was sure of it.

Cable had not yet been installed and even worse, there was no internet provider that catered to this side of Burkburnett yet. None that included installation among their standard fee, that is. Emmy remembered, and cringed, at the quote they got from the provider about how much it would cost to run the cables to their property from the nearest junction box.

The only internet they got was from their cellphones and the coverage was shitty at best. One bar that went on and off, and only in certain parts of the house. They were still working on getting a hard line for a phone. The provider hinted that if they wanted to, they’d have to pay for the additional length of telephone line that would lead to their house from the nearest pole – another separate expense. They’d heard about providers putting both phone and internet into one package but none of them catered to this area yet.

She turned around bringing with her, two mugs of coffee and setting it on the table.

“Honey, come down now. Breakfast is waiting,” she called out.

The dining table was opposite the stairs, and she knew that as long as the door to their room was at the least bit open, Matt would hear her. There was no answer. Outside, a flock of birds passed by, momentarily casting their shadows against the table and the floor.

A sickening feeling in her stomach almost made her lurch. Before she knew it, the hairs on the back of her arms were already standing up. It took a second to set in. By the time it did, Emmy was already reacting.

The shadow Jean cast was going against the light.

Emmy raced towards the back door. She looked at the flower boxes on both sides, Jean was not there. She ran to the side of the house, one after the other, and did not see her daughter. Then, her eyes fell on the wooden walkway to the river.

Emmy ran.

“Jean! Baby!” she shouted as she neared the wooden walkway.

Once there her panic only increased. There was no sign of her daughter. The water was undisturbed. She walked back and paced in circles thinking where her daughter might have gone. Emmy held a hand to her face, the other on her hips while she agonized where Jean hand gone. She raced to the front of house hoping she was there. She was not.

The woods? No? Where? She had more questions than answers.

Her heart beat furiously against her chest. Emmy started to sweat profusely. Already, her breath came in shallow and in short intervals. She had no answers but she needed to keep moving.

The only other option was to despair, she could not give in to that, not yet. Emmy raced back to the house entering by the back door, and started calling for her husband as soon as one foot was inside.

“Matt! MATT!” she screamed, her panic now full blown.

Once she cleared the kitchen, she grabbed on the banister and anchored herself to it, using it as a means to pivot fast. She intended to rush through the stairs and storm their room to get Matt. She froze halfway up. A volatile mix of emotions threatened to blow up and bring her down. She smiled, she panicked, she was frightened, yet she was happy. On the edge of the stairs above was Matt. Matt carried their youngest child in his arms. Their puzzled expressions asked many questions.

“Babe? Are you alright?” asked Matt, his concern and bewilderment showing in both his face and tone.

Emmy did not answer, could not answer. She was immensely relieved that Jean was safe. She just nodded to Matt and faked a smile. She motioned for them to come down. Her mind would not stop.

Who was it? Or what?

~0~

“It’s nothing. It’s silly, really,” said Emmy, trying to calm Matt who was sincerely worried.

The couple and their little girl sat across each other on the dining table, all eyes on Emmy. She tried to pacify her husband’s curiosity, tried to assure him. Emmy plastered an unconvincing smile on her face as she poured juice on Jean’s glass and placed an egg, bacon, and a piece of toast on her plate.

She wanted to believe her own words, but her mind would not accept it. Whatever it was that passed behind her answered her. In her daughter’s voice. As clearly as she was talking now.

“Can I have peanut butter?” The little girl asked.

“Sure honey, anything you want.” She answered without thinking.

Emmy only registered that Jean asked a question. In the mess that was her thoughts, Emmy also entertained the idea that she might have just imagined it all. Was that possible? The back door was already open when she ran out and she did not do it, no one had. She heard it open and close. She needed to be sure.

“Hon, you did lock the doors yourself last night, right?” she asked Matt.

“Yeah. I mean, you were still wiping and putting the plates away when I locked the back door, remember?”

“I know hon. Like I said, it’s silly,” she said, trying to exude a genuine smile.

The look on her husband’s face told her that he was not convinced. He nodded, however, effectively dropping the subject. She knew he knew that she was not sure but was not willing to press it just yet.

“Gina’s still not up?” She asked, changing the subject.

“Doesn’t seem like it. I was about to go to her when…” Matt hesitated, “know what? Let her sleep in.”

“I wanted to continue sleeping!” Jean exclaimed.

“You did?” Matt asked in a mocking tone.

“I did!”

“Why were you already up when I came to get you then?”

The little girl shrugged, prompting Matt and Emmy to let out a laugh.

“Alright then, let’s eat!” Matt proclaimed, focusing his attention on the food that his wife prepared for them, “Here’s for you sweetie. Oh, mommy’s already stacked your plates! Let’s see, fried eggs, toast, your favorite spreads and ewwwk, what’s that?”

Matt pointed at a section of Jean’s plate then quickly withdrew his fingers. Emmy’s attention was successfully torn away from her fears at Matt’s reaction to something on the plate. She saw what he was referring to and managed a smile. Jean was giggling.

“Jean baby,” he said to his daughter, “What is this?”

“I dunno daddy,” replied the little girl, her focus also diverted, “Mommy? What is that?”

“Yeah mommy, what is that? Fried… paper?” asked Matt, asking the question before Emmy could answer.

“Oh, shut up, that’s healthy food,” she said, glaring at her husband and swatting him on the shoulder, “This is good for you honey,” this time addressing the little girl.

“Ewwwk, this is some kind of weird alien food isn’t it? From Mars!” Continued Matt.

The little girl was amused by his father’s antics and went along with him, giggling.

“Don’t listen to your father. He’s an idiot sometimes. That’s what happens when you eat too much unhealthy food.” Emmy said, adding two more crisp veggie bacons on her daughter’s plate, “This is veggie bacon. Its bacon made of vegetables!”

The faked enthusiasm in her voice did not connect with the tough crowd. Daughter and father exchanged glances and laughed, the little girl throwing her head back in delight.

“But if turkeys aren’t pigs,” Matt voiced in a singsong manner, referring to that time Emmy served turkey bacon, mimicking Jean, “then pigs are not vegetables. Right, mommy?” said Matt.

The little girl squealed in delight. Emmy did not respond. Instead, to prove her point, she took a slice of it and bit down, exaggerating her facial expressions to emphasize the crunch.

“It’s not bacon, but it looks like it. It’s just as crispy. Hmm, what shall we call it?” asked Matt, pretending to muse over it, “Oh I know, it’s fakon! The fake bacon!”

“Fakon!” echoed Jean.

Emmy shook her head. Usually, she would be irate at this point. She didn’t tolerate senseless play-acting at the table but not this day. This day, Matt came to her rescue. And she appreciated him for it.

The concern regarding her earlier behavior dropped from her daughter’s face and was replaced with a glowing glee over something as simple as fakon. The trio proceeded to partake of their breakfast happily, joking as they went.

When Jean squealed again, Matt and Emmy bolted upright. Something else was mixed in there. They exchanged glances, ears straining.

A bone chilling scream came again. From upstairs.