The Forgotten Girl

Chapter 13

Maddie

Bella lives in an apartment complex on the more rundown side of town. It’s still way too early for her to be at work, so I’m hoping that she’ll be there. But after knocking on the door for several minutes, I realize she’s not. I think about just waiting on the steps until she comes home, even if it’s tomorrow morning after she gets off work, but there’s a large Rottweiler barking at me from the window next door, a sketchy looking guy across the street smoking and drinking who hasn’t taken his eyes off of me this entire time, and two very large guys screaming at each other near the corner. It’s making even the inside of me nervous. I should leave, but instead I find myself wandering around the side of the complex and to the back door of Bella’s place. At first I just stand there, staring at the doorknob, wondering what I’m doing, but then I realize that I do know what I’m doing. I don’t know how I know, but I just do.

Without thinking, I pluck a hairpin from my hair and pick the lock on the door. It takes only seconds, as if I’m a pro, and I’m guessing that somewhere in my past I’ve done this before. Many times.

I open the door and step inside Bella’s home, noting that there’s a sink full of dirty dishes, stacks of mail on the counters, and takeout boxes all over the kitchen. There’s absolutely no kitchen table. No barstools. No furniture at all. And it’s the same in the living room. The only thing in there is a sleeping bag on the floor. The curtains are drawn shut, the air is musty. It’s as if she barely lives here.

I double check the address she gave me a while ago that I punched into the phone just to make sure I came to the correct house. It matches, but still, I wonder if she gave it to me wrong or something. Or maybe she just lives like this.

Deciding maybe breaking in wasn’t the best thing to do, I start to turn around to leave, but pause when I swear I hear a muffled cry coming from down the hallway. I’m not sure whether I should leave or run. Maddie wants to go. Lily wants to stay. You need to see what it is.

“I’m afraid,” I admit aloud and shudder at the truth. Not necessarily afraid of the danger the crying could lead to, but how much I like that it could. My thoughts drift to what the crying could be. Someone hurt? Someone upset? Someone locked up who I could hurt?

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I ask as the last thought streams through my head. I start to back away, tugging at my hair, but invisible strings tug me forward, toward the crying. At this moment, I’m a puppet and Lily is my puppeteer and suddenly she’s in front of me, taking my hand and tugging me down the bare hallway. She leads me through the stale air until we reach the end where there’s a single shut door. Light is slipping through the cracks underneath and cries are flowing from the outside. Pain. Whoever’s in there is hurting.

“I don’t want to see,” I whisper in horror as my trembling hand reaches for the doorknob.

“You need to see,” Lily insists.

My fingers brush the brass knob. A jolt of heat shoots up my arm as I turn it and push it open. Light spills over me. Screams pierce my ears. Something flies at me that’s heavy and strong. Pain. Heat. Tears. Blood. My insides feel like they’re ripping out of my body.

Fire!

Fire!

Fire!

Burning!

Burning!

Burning!

Help me!

Help me!

Help me!

“You killed me.”