The Psychic Next Door

Chapter 5: Answer

I woke to the sound of banging. I sat up suddenly, my heart pounding in my chest. Light was streaming through the delicate, eyelet lace curtains that hung on the windows behind the white bars. Where was I? This wasn't my apartment... I tried to place myself, my mind clouded with the effects of heavy sleep.

When it all came flooding back to me, I was impressed that I had slept at all. It felt like years had passed since I'd heard that horrible animalistic scream, yet it had only been last night, mere hours ago...

The banging came again. I froze, suddenly fearful that the phantom creature had returned, had followed me to this unfamiliar home. Fear surged through me. I was trapped in this room... Perhaps trapped with it... with no way out...

"Rachel?" Polly called, her voice sounding worried. "Are you okay?"

Hearing Polly dispelled my paranoia. I realized the banging was coming from the other side of the door. The lock clinked as it released, then the door opened just enough for Polly to peer in. "Ah! You're awake."

I nodded, my hand on my chest, trying to calm my erratic heart.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice no longer worried, but back to that calm sing-song. What had she been worried about when I hadn't answered right away?

"I feel a lot better, actually, after resting. Calmer." I emphasized the word to let Polly know that I wasn't completely gone like she obviously assumed.

"Would you like some breakfast?"

"Uhm... sure," I said, getting up from the bed. Breakfast sounded nice; hunger was gnawing at my insides. But the need was soon pushed aside the more my mind woke up, remembering the terrible details of last night. Once again I began obsessing over the strange, hostile message that had been left on my computer.

Polly didn't notice my preoccupation and opened the door wider, standing aside to let me through.

"Actually, Polly," I began, trying my best to appear calm and collected. Last night, tortured by the questions the message had raised, I had come up with a theory of its origin. I wanted to test it, but I needed Polly's help, and I wasn't sure if she was willing to trust me... but I had to try. "I need something."

Polly stilled in the doorway, watching me with what looked like equal parts curiosity and caution, just like I'd expected.

"You did a great job of packing my things last night, but you forgot some stuff. I was wondering if we could perhaps stop by my apartment to get it." My voice threatened to tremble at the mention of my apartment, but I persevered. "It'd only take a second."

Polly continued to eye me, apparently hesitant to trust my sudden confidence, but after a moment, it seemed to work.

"Alright, if it's quick," she said with an edge, confirming my suspicions—she was still on guard, just in case I had another meltdown.

Forcing my lips into a smile, I grabbed my laptop from its spot on the floor next to my bed, and I crossed the threshold into the hall. Polly closed the door behind me and locked it with a little ornate golden key, which I only now noticed hung on a long chain around her neck. She slipped the chain and key down her shirt—away from the temptation for me to snatch it and run, I assumed—and stepped in front of me, beckoning to me with her hand. She led me down the hallway and back out into the foyer.

Even though I hadn't thought it possible, the house was even more beautiful during the day, bathed in golden sunlight that streamed through the windows that flanked the bright red front door. As we walked towards it, I glanced into the rooms that led off the entrance hall. One was a study, another a living room, both furnished lavishly.