Lemon-Coloured Dress And Violin

I am Pyotr Ilyich Dreamville. I'm 19. And I think, things are changing.

IT HAD BEEN a week since I left Dreamville Sanctuary.

I stayed in streets where no trace of K could ever find me. Same way as before, I slept on the pavement or in the cold metal bench in the park, but unlike what I used to do, I chose the place that was out of people sight. K was eager to let me stay in that goddamn house and even forcing Ludwig to believe we were going to get along. That would never happen knowing he had a broken and the most stupid point of view any man could be in.

I begged for alms. I forgot about university I was studying at before. And that Johannes problem was still in my head like it had lived there before. I tried to live a new life again-- more silent, more subtle, more cautious, more caged so people would not ever notice me.

"It has been 10 years..." I spoke in thin air with my hands on my waist and a phony smile plastered on my lips.

Eyes straight on the house, now roofless, I had lived at before. The house I burnt with my deceased mother inside. The house where my childhood was built and my tomorrow was planned. The house where I felt safe and comfortable. The house I tried to forget yet still carved in my deepest thought like it was meant to stay. The house that I used to consider home.

"Here I am again, mother."

I ambled through the rusty gate that was an average tree high tall as soon as it screeched in broken note the moment I opened it. Farther was our house still standing firmly, it was not totally burnt because most parts of it were not woods, however the trace of fire in those burnt black walls and shrieks of poor hold of metal were evident and heard when you trailed it over.

I entered through the door.

An strange smell welcomed me as it lingered on my nostrils. The smell of chlorine, the smell of newly cleaned floor, and the smell of well-preserved corners lulled my nose. The place was strangely clean and no trace of dust was felt as I ran a hand on the black wall. The sun was almost out, the night was nearing to fall but its frail light showed me that this roofless house was under maintenance.

Who lived here?

I searched the first room near the entrance, but no one was there. However, it was not totally empty. There was a cage and inside was a violin with its bow bathing in blood. The wall even had a huge painting of satan slitting the throat of the sinner. And the bed beside the cage had a lady mannequin in lemon-coloured dress with no head , laying down uncomfortably with her whole clothing drenched in crimson blood.

I stepped back in terror that my back reached the wall.

"M-Mother..."

It was the last position of her as I slit her throat cold-handed. She was in her bed asleep and the sun was almost up back then. I awoke earlier than my alarm clock, hence I played my violin for a moment, practicing Caprice No. 24 of Paganini that my mother was teaching me. I enjoyed the rhythm and danced in the air with my violin eyes closed. I sometimes did that to wake up mother from her slumber. I turned and turned and turned and turned till I bumped into the door of mother's room. Usually, she woke after a minute of my performance but that time, she didn't. So I stopped playing and opened the door myself. She was asleep deeply. She was strangely in lemon-coloured dress and her face was covered in make up that was ruined with her dried tears. She was making inaudible noise I could not comprehend. So I shook her on her cold feet and even called her name but she was not still awoken, she was drowned in her own subconscious and did not mind me at all. A minute later, she roused from sleep and rose. However, her eyes were still closed and still in her dreams. That moment, the nine-year-old me lost my temper and I raised my bow sky high and dashed it through her throat, making her head almost  separate from her very body. She gasped for an air for a second, but her heart stopped beating. As soon as she became lifeless, her blood trickled down and ran through her dress up to her bed. She crashed through it with blood spitting off her open neck. After that moment, I burnt the house with no guilt-- which I did not know why. So it left me at sixes and sevens how did this room have all these stuff positioned from the last time I had seen it?

"Uh, sir, I guess you were too early..." the voice of a lady in her forties broke into the scene making me jump that my heart ended in palpitation.

"Too early for what?" perplexed, I asked.

What is this woman talking about?

"We open around seven o'clock in the evening, sir. Right now, we are still under preparation. So if you may, I'll escort you out." She smiled I assumed fake.

"What do you mean we? Who are you with?"

I glanced over her totality and scanned every single part of her. She looked so messy. Her hands were covered in paint so were some parts of her face. She was wearing a brown apron with different shade of primary colours, she peered through my sight in confusion as soon as the question left my lips.

"Uh, my co-workers?"

"What do you people work for?" I knitted my brows and titled my head sideway.

"Oh, you seemed new here." She folded her arms and crossed her legs. "A haunted house. This whole place became a haunted house after the blaze was extinguished. That's what we were working for."

The fuck?

I scoffed in disbelief.

How come people have the guts to make my dearest home a haunted house without my permission?

"Uh, have you at least asked for permission to the owner of this, uh... skunky house?" I questioned, perhaps it was the best not to tell her I owned this damned burnt building.

"Well, dear, we tried. After a year ago this house was burnt, the owner of the village seemed to not like it standing tall at the vicinity of the public, the reason why the president wanted to take this whole thing down. But we couldn't just afford free spaces for nothing, hence the family of Oriot has suggested to make this whole hell useful. That's why we made it a haunted house and it has been operating for whole nine years successfully. Thanks to the owner... which we really do not know who because their stay here wasn't even documented," the woman spoke in her most  attention-worthy voice.

Our stay here wasn't ever documented? Could that be the reason why I had no friend at all here aside from Sally's son which was a kilometre far from here? We resided here illegally... the thing I have only known just now if not for this woman.

The fuck?

"By any chance, have you seen a violin here when you checked the place?" I turned my head to where the violin with its bow inside the cage lied.

I didn't know if that used to be my violin or it was burnt in fire with mother.

"Hmm..." She ran a forefinger on her chin and stared at the, uh, roofless top. "I couldn't really remember but I guess there is. I mean, Mr. Oriot told me that this set up here was inspired by the first thing he saw as he opened the door. A skeleton on the bed with no skull and a violin with its bow strangely covered in dried mud. That was actually the reason the Oriot family come up with this concept-- a haunted house."

I nodded in response and ambled through the bedside. I kneeled down and leveled my chest on the soft bed where the mannequin lied. I sniffed it for a second and it smelled odd; it smelled old that I supposed this was the same bed where my mother fell lifeless. It wasn't burnt, I didn't know why because I was certain I burned this whole thing before I left. How did the fire not trail onto this bedsheet when I left it soaked in gasoline?

Mother is alive?

I gazed over the woman staring at me with confusion evident on every inch of her face. She was clueless why I did the sniffing that she even raised her right brow as she leaned on the doorway.

"Pretty boy, why did you ask it by the way? It seems so strange why you specifically throw that violin-related question. In your look, you seemed a newcomer of this village. How come you know it?" She was skeptic I assumed was normal. Who wouldn't?

I stood and patted my knees to get the dirt off me. I faced her with emotionless face I used to wear all the time.

"Nah, I just found it odd why there is violin inside the cage. I mean, it's a bit strange so I asked if the set-up was related to something unusual like horror movies scene, I was really a fan of death... that blood trickling down... I love it," I replied, partially a lie.

She nodded and shrugged as she glanced over her wrist watch circling over her right arm.

"Oh, dear! 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... 0..." she counted, "now the haunted house is open! I guess I'm gonna leave you here so you could enjoy yourself. And, uh-uh, don't mind paying for entrance... since you're new here, it's my treat. Have a great night, pretty boy."

She exited quickly with remarks that I didn't even speak my farewell. I guessed she was just running errands but I hindered her way off.

I ran a look in every corner of the room. Everything was now lit up with red lights to enhance the eerie atmosphere of the place. The moon had already awoken with the sleep of the sun, so the operation of this haunted house had begun.

I went out.

I wandered off the place and nostalgia was still kicking in even with the change of ambience. Everything was now different than it used to be, but the feeling stayed the same.

This kitchen where mother would cook me my favourite Fricassee and she would stare at me with her hands on her cheeks, wearing apron, as I ate happily the dish she offered me.

This storage room where we stored in our stuff for cleaning. I would run inside of it every morning and run a mop on the floor as mother chased me, laughing about how the way I got away from her hold.

My room where I used to build my future in my head. I could see mother dying grey and old in my arms as I fondled her hair with the Caprice No. 24 on play in the background.

And finally, this music room where I first held the violin with my evil hands, playing the piece of discomfort and bewilderment.

But everything changed, it wasn't the same anymore. Every single corner of every single room was very different... which I thought great because these helped me get over everything again.

I heaved a long sigh.

The scary shouts and pull of chains went louder and louder as I strolled in. Perhaps for the additional eerie impact to the people.

"You're the first person here, young man, and you seemed... new. Are you enjoying? Or shall I say, do these things frighten you?" The man in 40s barely laughed as he randomly popped up beside me, asking questions I least expected.

I stared at him. He was in suit. He acted so formally including how the way he laughed and how the way he stood with chest out and chin up while his hands were crossed around his back.

"Uh... Do I know you?" I asked.

He chuckled that his wrinkles showed as he widened his mouth, showing his perfect set of teeth I assumed dentures.

"Pardon me for I have forgotten to introduce myself." He smiled so widely that both sides of his lips almost reached his ears. "I am Mr. Oriot... Johannes Oriot."