She felt a nagging sense of inferiority in comparison to Max. Her income wasn't enough for her to dress well, and the white shirt and navy blue skirt she wore were sale items purchased at the local bargain store. At the time, she'd found them nice enough for the beginning of her new career, but not now that she stood in the presence of a man of obvious wealth and sophistication.
Her phone vibrated from her purse, the man's eyes dragged to the bag by the noise. "Do you need to answer that?"
Her lips fell apart on an answer that she couldn’t easily voice. Shaking her head after a few awkward seconds, she forced the answer from her tongue. "No. I'll get to it when I'm done here."
He grinned in response. "Very well. If you'll allow me to squeeze around you, I'll happily open the door."
Due to the slope of the roof, two people couldn't stand next to the door at the same time unless one was willing to be on hands and knees. Not willing to stoop in front of a man she barely knew, Alice politely moved aside to allow him closer to the jammed partition.
The antique handle gave out a deafening clang when Max finally dislodged the door. Dust wafted out, just like every other room in the house. Shadows and cobwebs filled the interior, a single bulb hanging down, swinging slowly as if caught in some imaginary breeze.
"Can you turn on the light?" Fear laced her voice.
Reaching inside, he pulled the switch. The bulb failed to fire to life. "I'm afraid not," he said, moving away from the door so that he could stand upright and brush the dust from his clothes. His eyes locked to hers. "You're welcome to take a look."
Caught in his hypnotic gaze, she fought to find her voice within the thick blanket of attraction that wrapped her. Barely a whisper, she finally responded, "Yes. Thank you."
Bending down, she inched forward beneath the slope of the ceiling, her head moving inside to look at the closet, when she felt the soft touch of Max' hand to her back, the contact startling in its familiarity.
Her phone vibrated again.
12:30 p.m.
Gray walls.
Black table.
Plastic, fake red roses.
Still the same.
"Are you ready, Alice? As usual, you're right on time."
"Yes, doctor."
White door.
Dark wood desk.
White and beige striped couch.
Still safe.
"Take a seat," the doctor requested, "I'd like to begin the session discussing what you told me last time we met."
Although her body felt more under control than it had the last time she'd met with Dr. Chance, time still moved sluggishly, every small movement, or the slightest sound, stretched out far too long. Alice felt like she was working against some invisible force, a tension pushing against her uncomfortably as she lowered herself onto the couch.
"You look better," the doctor observed. "Your movements aren't as fitful as the last time we met." He waited for her to look up at him before commenting, "The medications must be working."
Shaking her head slightly, she tried to remember the last time she took the medications, but the past day was hidden beneath an opaque blanket, her pain and stress too much for her to remember events with any clarity. If he said the medications were working, she'd believe him, even though she couldn't recall anything before sitting in his waiting room.
"What did we talk about the last time I was here?" Even to her own ears, her voice sounded far off and broken.
A soothing balm against the chaos in her head, his words broke through the fog. "We discussed the beginning as I'd requested. Although, I'm somewhat confused by what you told me."
Alice forced her eyes to his, opening her mouth to answer, but then deciding against speaking at all.
Realizing she wouldn't respond, Doctor Chance added, "You told me about a house you were trying to sell. Do you remember?"
Blinking her eyes, she brought herself back to the present, shaking away dreams that still held her in their grasp. The visions would stop when she woke, but the terror and pain always followed, no matter what she did to escape.
…drip...
"I remember the house," she admitted.
"Why did you take me there? That house had nothing to do with your sister. Did it?"
Her head fell forward into her hands. "I don't know, exactly. It was the phone calls, I think."
"What about the phone calls, Alice?"
...drip...
Shaking her head, she attempted to dispel the thick clouds that lingered after she dreamed. The present was never so elusive as that moment, her struggle a losing fight to remain on track with the conversation.
"I think...I can't be sure because I don't specifically remember checking the phone, but I must have. They were telling me something, most likely that she was gone. I don't believe I needed the calls to tell me that. I already knew something was terribly wrong."
He was quiet for a moment, contemplative. "Explain it to me."
The last thing Alice wanted was to go back there...to that day. But if it would help her heal, if it would leave them with nothing but the dreams left to discuss, she'd indulge him.
"I felt scared the second I stepped foot into that house. It was a slithering thing at first, a tendril wrapping my spine."
She shivered, forcing herself to walk back into the run down house on the corner of First and Woods. "There was no reason to fear the house. It was only a neglected structure."