room – 4 fin.

The swing door took a few bounces as it closed. The small suspension resisted four times before allowing the glass door to close behind me. It clanged as the aluminum frame hit the door frame. The last of the air in the overhanging suspension hissed out. The house was quiet. Like it was before.

The air was calm and smelled like a rain was eminent.

I proceed upstairs and down the hall. Toward my mom’s room. I didn’t hesitate or even walk any faster. My normal pace. The door was still open.

She wasn’t inside.

I checked the other rooms. My room. My grandma’s room. No one.

I went down the hall into the bathroom.

It was a kinda a small bathroom, for guests, but was also large enough to have a shower. You walk in and the toilet is right there in front of you. The sink and wall sized mirror was on your right. The shower was on your left. Some cheesy opaque shower curtain hung closed. The lights were dim. I flicked the power switch next to the mirror a few times. The light in the center of the ceiling remained a dim orange. Even when I had flicked it off.

A swarm of black liquid appeared in the mirror. I moved thick and slow in a clockwise rotation. Kinda like a whirlpool. It felt brighter than the light. Not sure how it was possible. Maybe it became more predominant than anything in there. Not needing light to tell me it was there. It’s presence was the swirling it made known to my mind. Not my eyes. I knew it was there, moving closer toward me. I darted out.

I ran to the front door. It was still open but the glass screen still shut.

The red Camero was outside. My brother was home.

My blood boiled.

Where the hell was he?

I ran downstairs. The fucking house was acting up again.

Our basement was finished with one big rec room and a couple small rooms. The laundry room was at the end of the stairs. I looked in the big rec room on the right. The room my brother deemed his. He wasn’t there. I went to the other side and checked the two smaller rooms. The windowless rooms had no one. Even the laundry room had no one. I couldn’t believe how angry I was getting. I could feel myself biting down on my tears. I ran upstairs into the living room and threw back the blinds. His car was there. Right in the drive way. That meant he was here. He had to be here. Or even my other brother. Maybe he borrowed the car. Someone drove that thing and parked it there. So someone had to be here. Here to help me out of this madness.

But no one was home. No one but me and this damned house.

room – 3

“Mom?”

She raised her hand, signaling me not to disturb her mid-prayer.

She sat on the edge of her bed, facing the wall where the door was. Her face was colorful and full, not like the time she was pale, skinny, and sick. There was that peachy color in her cheeks I haven’t seen for ages. Even her hair was normal. Curly and black, like my oldest brother’s, but of course, longer. No wig covering the fallout that months of chemotherapy would do to you. She was her normal self, bubbly brown glasses and all.

I listened as she went from one prayer to another.

The words was undecipherable under her droning voice. I recognized the melody, but the words. The words weren’t right.

I rushed down the hall and down through the stairs. My heart was racing as I left through the front door. The glass screen closed slowly behind me. I was in the front lawn. I looked down the street and to no surprise, it was my old neighborhood. We were at the start of the block that was filled with single family homes. All were similar to ours.

There was another Vietnamese family in the house to the right front of ours. I ran over and banged on the door. I wasn’t sure what to tell them. If it was a miracle or if it was something unnatural. I wasn’t sure. I just wanted someone.

No answer.

I ran frantically to our neighbor’s house. Their family had also dealt with cancer’s terminal effects on loved ones. And like us, everyone had moved away when everything was over. Leaving the unwanted memories behind in the home they no longer saw the same way again. I decided not to knock on their door and walked back to mine.

Outside I stood. Looking at the home I had left.

All the blinds were drawn closed . On every window.

The only look inside was at the middle. Where the glass screen door had automatically pulled itself shut even as I left the main door flung open on the inside.

I was scared I’d see my mom there.

But I saw stairs, one set down and one set leading up, beyond the glaring reflection.

I felt ashamed.

It was my mom. Her normal self. Not some apparition. Not some ghost trying to scare me or pull me into a world that I don’t belong. I took a deep brief. Calmed my nerves. And went back inside.