Library
Jace's brother couldn't skip classes, so he decided to e-mail Jace with a picture of the latest story. Jace resent the e-mail to me. As for now, I just needed a quiet place to read the story. I quietly took an empty seat and took my mobile out.
Reading Sophie's stories were gut-wrenching for me. I silent my phone as I read, waiting for the horror. The Smiling Man became like an ever-present in my life too, I received Sophie's last story – "The Smiling Man Steps back" When I read the title I got a little excited that it may be the story of how Sophie finally overcame her fears. How wrong I was.
Cordelia had started to sneak jugs of Oil, which she'd stolen from the town's people, into the Castle at the Smiling Man's request. The King hadn't noticed because he was preoccupied with an on-going war. She had hidden the jugs in the dungeons below the castle, and one day when the King went out on a raiding party the Smiling Man told her to douse the castle in it.
"Pour extra in Ophelia's room, around the doors and windows too -we must cleanse this place…you are such a good girl.", Sophie wrote of the Smiling Man's metallic voice.
The story ends with Cordelia standing outside the castle with a flaming torch in her hand. There's a line of flammable oil leading to the castle, just begging to be lit. The smiling man put a hand on her shoulder, its icy cold and grips tightly. It's the first time he's touched her, she feels terrified but inexplicably reassured that she's doing the right thing. He leans in to whisper, she feels the cold breath on her neck. I dropped the paper onto the floor, I didn't read any further. I phoned Mr.Smith; her English teacher.
I told him about the story and became extremely worried. He told me that he is going to check on her immediately. I couldn't let this opportunity go to waste. I ran towards the parking lot. I urged Mr.Smith to let me come with him. He accepted as he didn't want to waste any more time.
I don't understand what is causing Mr Smith to be so worried. Is it Apathy? Mr Stirling answered the door and Mr Smith explained the situation to him. He denied Sophie had anything to do with it at first, but eventually, he admitted that he was working night shift the previous night and couldn't account for her. That's when she appeared in the doorway, the look of horror on her face sufficient for a young girl who'd walked into her living room on a Saturday morning only to see her English teacher sitting there.
He asked her about the oil and she denied it, softly at first, but the harder I pressed she became more and more aggressive.
"You're not in trouble sweetheart, we just want to help…"
"I'm trying, I don't know…I just…", her head snapped up towards. "…Go home! Leave! Go home!" She screamed, her eyes rolling back in her skull as her voice contorted. The girl began pounding the wall with her fists, her legs flailing and teeth gnawing.
Mr Stirling pounced to his feet quickly and grabbed his little girl as she had, what looked like, a seizure on the floor.
"He's here…he's in the room…I can hear him whispering…don't listen to him, Cordelia"
"Quick, hand me that syringe!" he barked at me firmly, but calmly.
I complied and watched as he injected Sophie's arm with a clear looking medicine. The ease with which he'd done it made me think that this kind of thing was a regular occurrence in that house. Sophie's mouth began to foam as she shook violently one last time before her muscles finally relaxed. My heart wrenched as she came to and began sobbing in her father's arms, he gripped her tightly with a stoic look welded onto his face.
"I think you should leave now…" He said to me.
"But…what the hell was that…I…?"
"Please! Leave us alone!"
********************
I could feel my hands shaking as I walked home, I had not been prepared for that. My feet seemed to respond by directing me to my local corner shop, where a bottle of calm-me-down juice was calling my name.
"You okay, Mr Smith?", I said to Mr Smith; who was driving.
"Eh…yeah…", he mumbled.
Me: "Can I ask you a question? A few questions."
Mr Smith: "Go ahead and ask."
Me: "When I told you about the story, why did it invoke such a reaction?"
Mr Smith sighed and answered, "In our meeting; Mr Stirling told us that Sophie and her little sister had become more and more reclusive since his wife and him and separated. He told us that he'd been worried himself, but with 2 kids and 2 jobs he hadn't had much time to talk to her about it. He is just like me, a single father who couldn't spend time with his kids. Hell, I also have two daughters just like him. Guess, I am just feeling guilty that I couldn't pay attention to my daughters."
"Look…" he said, leaning in closer "I wasn't going to say anything but is everything okay with you?"
Mr Smith parked his car by the side of the road; as his phone started buzzing. He picked up the phone and brought it close to his ear. I could hear their conversations, perfectly.
Mr Smith: "Gary, I am really busy right now."
"Look... this is important.", said Gary from the other side. "I wasn't going to say anything but is everything okay with you?"
"What do you mean?", Mr Smith asked, puzzled.
Gary: "I caught Abby shoplifting here last week…now I know we go way back but, you know…"
"My Abby?"
Gary: "Yeah…she sneaked packet of fish fingers in her backpack when she thought I couldn't see. Most kids try lifting sweets or booze you know? I'm not taking it any further, just thought you should know"
Then it just me.
Me: "Mr Smith, start the car."
Mr Smith: "What?"
Me: "Just start the car. She is Cordelia, Your daughter is Cordelia."
Mr Smith's eyes shone. He dropped his phone on his lap and drove as fast as he can towards his house. He understood what I meant.
'The fishmonger grabbed poor Cordelia by her long coat, she yelped in pain as she turned towards the angry man. He released her as soon as he recognised the Princess's face…his heart sank as he realised he'd just violently grabbed the King's eldest daughter', Sophie had written.
By the time we reached the house flames reached out from every window, the roof collapsing in as I stood there, numb. Plumes of smoke and fiery blasts erupted from the window of a room, the fire seemingly fiercer there. I could smell that awful burning. The firemen were already gathered, trying to extinguish the flame. Mr Smith ran towards the door, only to be stopped by the firemen there.
A girl was sat on the lawn, humming as she made daisy chains. A line of scorched grass lead from her to the door. She didn't seem to notice the blaze as she tied knots in the flowers.
I sat down beside her and watched on helplessly as the roof came down upon my world. I felt the heat from the inferno on my face and wondered if it was all a dream or if the heat would wake me up.
The girl sat up after she'd finished making her chains. She tied one around her wrist and held the other in her right hand.
"Is that for me?" I asked from behind a numbed throat, pointing to her hand.
"No," she said. She pointed behind me and said, "It's for him."