The Sexton House

Episode 18

ANNA

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A man is downstairs. One that was not
invited into my home, nor welcome. I don’t
know what possessed him to move into a
place filled with childhood memories,
memories I made with my family so long
ago. Maybe he is lost; trying to find his way
in this corrupted world filled with chaos
and hurt. Whatever it is, I hope he finds
what he is looking for.

I stare out at the window which holds so
many memories as well as the rest of the
house, just this one seems to hold painful
ones, memories I can’t seem to face.
The storm hasn’t let up in several hours,
which doesn’t bother me. I’ve grown used
to the flash of lightning and the boom of
thunder that follows. One day I hope to be
able to enjoy the vibrant sun again, but as
of now I’m afraid that may never happen. I
have spent too many years in this room for
anything to change now.

I hear the sound of glass shattering,
followed by a string of profanities being spat
out in one big breath of air.
It’s the man, the one that has found my
house to be his. I walk over to the door, not
planning on going out, just hoping to see a
glimpse of him again.
His tall posture stands proudly, well over six
feet. His chocolate hair falls in almost
perfect waves, framing his face, creating a
sharp jawline. Everything about this man is
striking; absolutely breath-taking in every
way possible. Maybe I’m drooling in a
sense, but there’s something about the way
he carries himself, so carefree? It’s like he
doesn’t have a worry in the world.

I step back from the door when I see him
look my way. My face changes back to its
normal stone cold expression. He mustn’t
know I was gazing… staring, more like.
I look around the almost empty room-
feeling sad? I’m not really sure what this
emotion feels like anymore, I know I felt it
often when I was alive, but now it feels so
foreign.
I see the shattered mirror in the corner of
the room, feeling much like it: broken, lost,
worthless. I almost killed that poor excuse
for a woman earlier today. She had it
coming though, she disobeyed the tall man
downstairs. I heard him even say to her not
to come up here, but she did anyway.

Plus, after what I heard a few nights
before… how is it that said it nowadays?
sU-Cking face? No that’s not it. Maybe
locking lips? Either way it sounded
disgusting, similar to the sound of my old
cat eating after days of having nothing. That
woman sounded very hungry, much like
Muffin.
I walk over to the broken glass, picking up
the shards that broke a few nights ago. I
start to gather them up in a pile, placing the
larger ones in one section and the smaller
ones in another. I scan the room before
walking over to the closet and digging
through the mess hoping to find what I
need.

After minutes of searching, I spot the glue. I
take it out and walk back over towards the
mirror. Bending down, I start applying glue
to the back of a glass shard before pressing
it onto the frame.

After about two hours of repeating this step,
the mirror is back to one piece; distorted,
but in one piece. I kind of realize how even
if you break something and fix it, it will
never be the same, there will always be
flaws.

I can’t take back the things I have done and
said to the man downstairs, but I can ask
for forgiveness. It’s just knowing when the
right time is. He seemed pretty upset with
me after he saw what I did to the woman.
Forgiveness may not come easy.
is this affection?
I hear a knock start to pound on the front
door, alerting my occupied mind. I step
towards the door, noticing a new young
woman walking into my home. Her blonde
hair and captivating blue eyes catch the
attention of the man downstairs.