If the rest of the Estate was something to go by then by all means the bathroom was no different. It was a simple room comprising of the usual bathtub, toilet and a basin which still had a bathroom mirror above, however ineffective due to it being shattered. The central crack and ( what I can only assume were ) smudges and droplets of blood would suggest that the mirror was either the brunt of someones anger or there was a minor accident at some stage.
The basin itself was filthy and filled with a combination of what seemed like a lifetime worth of dark, dirty water, cigarette ash and butts, paper pulp and God only knows what else ( In fact I wondered if God did know or whether he hadn't forgotten this place existed ). A plug chain hung limply over the front of the basin - I tugged at it, feeling lucky enough that I didn't have to fish through the mess in order to drain the water.
The basin spluttered and belched as it greedily quenched its dry throat with the putrid water. The rumble of the drainage sending shards of mirror to the floor and leaving small distorted fragments of my own image staring back at me. A man that I hadn't cared to look at in some time. I looked old and weathered much like this house, my life up until now had beaten me down, taken all and offered nothing in return. We can fool ourselves into believing that we live the good life - Wife, kids, house with a white picket fence and good job to pay for it all. But its all just smoke screens and mirrors in the end. Nothing more than an illusion in the end.
It was through my reflection that I was drawn to the plug chain still clenched tightly in my hand and the mound that hung from its end, anchored by the plug. It was a clump of matted hair at first glance, but closer inspection revealed skin and bone. It was a fragment of skull, scalp to be precise, well preserved with skin and hair still in tact. From that moment every dent, scratch, scuff and every smear throughout the bathroom made sense. The mirror above the basin wasn't smashed in anger or in any accident. It was smashed in a struggle.
The where abouts of the scalps owner remained to be seen, but any sense in logic pointed to the direction of the bathtub. Its contents looking the same if not worse that that of the basin making it impossible to see what lay in its depths. Now, normally my gut feeling would have been to about face and walk right out of that bathroom door, back down the stairs, and right out the front door never to return again. But something inside made me stop and think that perhaps submerged in that bathtub was someones Offspring, someones parent, someones sibling - someone that deserved the right to a proper burial. And then on the other hand the bathtub could be completely empty.
There was only one way to find out.
I rolled up my sleeves and plunged in, hands spread out like a blind man without a guide. Praying that this deep dark abyss was empty praying that my emotions and suspicions were simply getting the better of me, praying that my prayers would be answered and I'd reach the bottom.
Regardless of which God you pray to and no matter how hard you pray - you will always get an answer.
Except sometimes - the answer is not the one you're hoping for.
My hands brushed passed the bone of a shin, up to the slimy flesh of a thigh, past an exposed pelvis and then meeting a bony, five fingered hand.
And before I knew it, I was pulled in. The skeletal hand wrapped around my wrist, fluctuating with weakness and strength as the corpse emerged from the black water, pulling itself upright against my struggle.
"you sonofabitch" it wailed "you put me here, you sonofabitch". Water and black scum streamed from the faceless skull as it spoke.
The corpse thrashed about in the dirty water and tried to pull me under, my legs pressed against the floor of the bath my only leverage in the fight to pull away. The bath groaned under the stress.
Water thrashed more violently as the struggle continued. I pushed harder with my legs, trying to break free.
And like a cork popping from a champagne bottle the weak, corroded floor of the bathtub burst under the pressure swallowing myself, the corpse and the bathwater into the deep black hole below.
To be continued:
Next issue: Deeper Underground
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March 10, 2009 at 11:46 PM
Morbid as this may sound..I like your writting and the pics too..Can't wait for the next post.
March 11, 2009 at 8:29 AM
Alpha -
Thanks for the feedback. I hope to keep you and other readers just as interested with the direction I'm taking in future posts.
March 12, 2009 at 11:34 PM
You're a good writer...I was with you right up until you put your hands on the corpse then reality waned.... Are you planning on writing a book? Certainly have the talent for it. Penny
March 13, 2009 at 8:40 AM
Hi Penny,
Thanks for your comments and encouragement. I do hope to one day write a book, It is one of my long term Goals but this blog in itself is my first attempt at telling a story to an audience so in a roundabout way its a gauge to see whether or not people are interested in my writing style.
As for the reality aspect of the story I can assure you that while this blog is a work fiction, there are elements in each post that I've drawn from real life experiences - for the other part there is the element that suggests strongly that the house is either not entirely what it seems, or those living in the house are not entirely what they seem.
I hope I can keep you interested with the next entry which Im currently in the middle of writing.
March 14, 2009 at 6:10 PM
Can't waite to see where all of this goes, I have to admit tho, Unlike most books I read, when I read a blog I always have that "need" to hurry up and turn to the next page but unable to... so I shall sit and waite haha
March 16, 2009 at 8:25 AM
Hi mRae,
Glad you like it - I hope to have the next issue out this week. It would have been sooner however im having a few technical issues at home, slowing the process down.
Stay tuned...
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