John, Mitt and I used to always hang out at the old dilapidated house down at the end of the street. For a bunch of restless pre-teen boys we found the two story house the perfect hideout for our little club. Built in an odd Gothic style from the blackest wood, it stuck out amongst the quite suburban bungalow houses that stretched out from it in every direction. Like a castle with spires that stretched to the sky. As kids we found the allure of its hidden secrets too much to resist.
We knew that it had been abandoned for many years, longer than any adult could remember. We also knew that all of the parents forbade their kids from going near it. For my group that just made it more enticing. If the adults did not wants us to enter it, than there had to be something special about it.
Something forbidden that called with it the promise of adventure.
Three years on I found myself standing in front of the grand oak doors that graced the front of the building. When we were kids we had been stumped on how to open them. Back then the golden door handles had been chained together with a iron chain, each link as thick as a child’s arm. Even Mitt's dads bolt cutters had failed to get threw them.
Now the handles had been broken off and the chain lay some distance in the grass, rusted and abandoned. I reached out with a hand and placed it against the door.
It felt cold and withdrawn.
A long time had passed since we had left the house and so much had changed since then. Mitt and John no longer lived on the same street as I. After the last night in the building, Johns family had fled the suburb and moved interstate. Mitt was enrolled in a different school and he wanted nothing to do with me. Eventually I learnt that he had also moved out of town.
At the time it was the closest my mother had come to showing concern. She grounded me for for a month. Two days later I realised she had already forgotten about it, the memory drowned in vodka. I never went back to the house though, scared of what might await for me there.
Scared of what Tanya would think of me.
Glancing behind me, I could see the orange hue of the setting Sun. Taking a deep breath I pushed on the door and it swung open surprisingly easily. Golden light shone through the doorway, illuminating the dusty red carpet of the foyer.
Entering the building, I ran my hands over the wood panels on the wall. I listened for any sounds from further inside the building, but I couldn't hear anything, it was a sullen silence. Standing in the middle of the foyer I lifted my torch and shone it around. The light dancing off the marble floor where the carpet did not cover, or catching on the red wood panels of the wall.
The inside was as extravagant as the outside.
I was in awe just like when I was a kid. After we had been blocked from entering the building, we had managed to find a way in by the outside entrance to the cellar. I smiled when I remembered how excited we were when we found our way up to the foyer. For a bunch of suburban kids from struggling families, the sheer amount of opulence of the building was astounding. From elaborate chandeliers hanging from the roof to the velvet furniture. It made us feel like nobility.
There was less fire damage back then though. I could easily see the black charred burns across the east wall, at the centre of the burn marks was the doorway to the parlour room. The marks seemed to reach out like vicious claws and the closer I got to them the more they seemed to suggest pain and a feeling of foreboding. I knew she would be waiting for me in there and I still wasn't ready.
The fire was the official reason we never went back. We had been accused of starting it and being arsons. Running, screaming and crying from the building as smoke and red flames rose from it. It was why John's family had left and Mitt changed schools. It was why I was alone now. We didn't tell anyone the truth.
No one would have believed us anyway.
With John and Mitt gone and with a reputation as a firebug, it was not surprising that I would become a pariah. Rumours and gossip meant no one at school wanted to hang out with me, except some of more troublesome kids. I never got along with them though. Most days were spent looking after my mother or studying.
I felt for the small container in my pocket and clutched it. I knew to anyone else my intentions tonight would be considered insane, but I was committed all the same.
At the centre of the foyer was a grand staircase that led to the second floor. Like the rest of the foyer, a rich red carpet cascaded downwards, covering the marble stairs. The stairway curved downwards and had a marble railing that followed it down. The shape of dancing figures cut into it.
I smiled as I looked at it, this is where we first met Tanya.
After entering the house and standing stunned in the foyer, John had spotted a dark figure at the top of the stairs. When we all looked to see what he was pointing at, it leapt on to the railing and rode it down on two feet. Skidding to a stop in front of us it was a girl in an old frilly dress. It was a hell of an entrance. If we hadn't been so impressed maybe we would have thought to question why she was here.
I made my way up to the second door, the memories of children racing up them guiding me. The soft foot falls of kids running from one room to the other. Sometimes pretending to be nobles in a house, other times just playing a game of hide and seek.
I moved from room to room, immersing myself in the memories of our adventures that summer, of the times Tanya would lead us on some adventure. One room still had remains of the fort we built of old cupboards and boxes. Another was painted from floor to roof, garish and ridiculous pictures covered every inch of it. I chuckled when I remembered how impressed we where that Tanya didn't get any on her.
Eventually I turned back and made my way towards the foyer once again. I began to notice that the house hadn't made a sound since I walked up the stairs. It's silence suggesting just like me, it was lost reminiscing of better times.
I ran my hand over the banister and a thought popped in to my head. I threw my legs over the railing and pushed off. The air roared past my ears and I let out a laugh of excitement and fear. The marble was as smooth as the first time I did it. I could feel the eyes of the house stare into my back. I hit the floor hard and couldn't manage get my feet under me in time.
I stumbled once and then fell, hitting the marble hard, my breath knocked out of me. Gasping and groaning in pain I could feel the house shudder a little, the walls creaking. It was a laugh, I could feel it. Standing up and brushing myself off, I looked back towards the parlour. The burn marks still reached out from it, but they were less menacing. In fact they seemed withdrawn, almost shy.
I approached the doorway and carefully stepped into the room. The memory of the final night came flooding back.
***
“Guys! Look at this!”
Johns voice was shrill with excitement, his hand waving us over hurriedly as the rest of his body was hidden behind a cupboard door.
The three of us. Myself, Mitt and of course Tanya had been looking around the parlour room. Tanya had gotten us the key when we said we wanted to see more of the house. The parlour was cozy, with an unused fireplace and large soft chairs that faced it. Dust covered much of it, but it still had an inviting feel. We even managed to get the fire going.
Hurrying over to John we stood behind him as he pulled a large record player from the shelves. Placing it gently on the coffee table in the centre of the room. He looked at us and flashed his teeth in a wide smile.
“Do you think it still works?” Mitt asked, peering at it carefully.
“It should, mother cared a lot about it.” Tanya's voice was alluring, soft and with a strong accent, something European. Whenever I heard it, I felt my heart pause for a brief second.
“Are there any records?” I said, looking at Tanya.
Tanya raced over to a box in the cupboard and pulled a large square sleeve from it. We watched with anticipation as she set the record and dropped the needle on to it. There was a pause filled with the crackle of the needle dancing on the surface of the vinyl before a long drawn sound of a violin began to fill the room.
Soon it was accompanied by a piano and many other instruments, the song building up pace until it lit the air on fire with a melody that forced the spirit to dance in tune. I felt a tug at my hand and looked to see the silver blue eyes of Tanya staring into mine. Her hand had taken hold of mine and she was trying to drag me to the open space of the room.
“Tanya wants to daaaance with you Ryan! Ooh lala!” Mitt already started to mock us, John laughing at his side.
I felt my face go red and I tried to mutter some excuse about not being able to, but Tanya ignored me. Instead she told me to my hands in hers and let her lead. I was so sure I stepped on her feet, but knowing what I know now, I doubt that would have been possible. Instead it was if she glided around me giggling as I stumbled after her.
I could feel myself smiling, mirroring hers as we stared into each others eyes. Her touch felt odd, it always had. When we ran through the halls of the house, playing games or hiding from each other. She had always been the one to hold my hand and pull me around. Every time I all I could do was remember the sensation of the touch. It was like she had no permanence in the present.
There we stood, now just swaying in place to the rhythm of the music. Our faces drawn closer and closer at each beat. I could see her soft face framed by the brown locks of her hair and the cold white lips, only touched with the hint of pink. Unable to stop myself I leant in and kissed her.
Like her hands the kiss was almost insubstantial. Sweet, gentle and cold, but still just a memory.
For an entire summer we had hung out and become close friends, that moment should have been a happy one. It was, for that brief moment. But eyes closed and leaning into her I felt weird, like the floor had given away. I was woken from my stupor by John and Mitt shouting in shock.
Opening my eyes I saw Tanya's closed still, but something was off. Glancing down I saw us floating some few feet off the ground, suspended like dust in the light of the torches. I cried out in panic and it was as if the wires holding me snapped and I feel through the air, crashing down into the coffee table. I yelled in pain as I felt the splinters cut into me, the record player was sent smashing into the floor, the disc shattering.
The rest of the night became a blur, a nightmare. Tanya saw us staring at her in fear, the blood from my cuts staining the wood and carpet beneath me. Something broke in her. As I tried to speak out to her, she became a black shadow, a wraith.
A gust of wind tore the room apart, sending embers from the fireplace everywhere, fires quickly erupting where they landed. The wind and heat chased us from the building, breaking the front door open and sending us staggering into the cold night air. I remember looking back at the house until an ice cold grip clutched at my heart and I ran. From the fire, the nightmare, from Tanya.
***
I looked around the blackened room where I stood. In the centre of it was the broken table, the record player left where it had been destroyed. The comfortable chairs just burnt out husks, all the warmth of the room had become a shadowy chill. There was no sign of Tanya, but I knew she was here.
The room bared down on me. The darkness grappling with my soul, trying to force me to leave. I could hear the quite sobs from the shadows and the cold made my breathe release small plumes of frost into the air.
“Tanya, Please... I just want to talk.”
I held my breathe, hopeful, desperate that she would let me speak to her.
Something stirred. A shadow slipped from the others and out stepped Tanya. Her old dress fluttering about her, dancing from one realm to another. Not quite there but it made you think it was. Her hair had less lustre, no longer did it glow, but almost fell matted across her face.
Hidden from view, I could not see her face, but I could feel her eyes watching me, waiting.
“Why did you come back?” Her voice was deathly quite, emotionless. It made me shiver in fear but I dared not show it.
I could not speak though, the words I had been practising, the reasons and excuses dashed from my head. She didn't wait, instead she glided closer, her hair beginning to rise behind her like she was floating in water. I felt my foot move on its own as I pulled away from her.
Tanya paused and watched me. She seemed to shimmer and the shadows grew restless.
“Are you going to run again?”
I closed my eyes and swallowed. Willing my foot back I instead took a step towards her. Time seemed to slow and I could feel my blood pounding in my ears.
“No, I won't run away, not again,” as I spoke I could see the shadows draw towards her, the window of the parlour began to draw in the moon light. “I should never have run from you that day, I regret it more than anything I have ever done.”
We had closed the gap now, just like that night we were now just a breathe away from one another. The moon light began to play tricks with the shadows, the destroyed furniture began to look restored, now shining in the silver glow. No longer did ice cling to the air and worm its way into my skin. In fact I began to feel heat spread across my face.
Looking up at me, Tanya's hair began to reveal those dazzling silver blue eyes. There was no anger in them, just sadness and I felt tears of my own begin to form.
“I was so lonely, I was so angry. I thought you had abandon me like everyone does, eventually.”
She lifted a hand to my face and gently ran her thumb through the tracks of my tears. I leant into her hand and relished the memory of it on my face.
“Why did you come back?”
“I missed you,” I whispered. “I lost almost everyone I cared about that night, now I have no friends, no family, I'm alone.”
I thought back to the still form of my mother, still sitting her chair like she always did. The child protection service telling me about my new foster family. The news I would need to leave the town and move across the country.
I had realised then that I did not want to leave.
I pulled the bottle of pills from my pocket and held them up in the light. She watched me, curious, yet she radiated hope. I carefully opened it, dropping a few in my hand and swiftly brought them to my mouth and swallowed.
“I just know I won't be alone if I'm with you.”
We kissed.
This time, with the moon looking down at us, it did not feel like a memory, but something real and true.
