Page 2 of Red

Those words that she spoke when she came to get me from my parent's house, will always stay with me. I think she thought she was comforting me, but it didn’t make me feel better. I would live with my grandmother. Nothing would change that I would still be alone.

When I was a kid, I would go visit my grandparent’s house for a few weeks each summer. I usually would spend my time with my nanny Maria, or Grandpa. During those visits, it would be rare to see my grandmother. The only time I would see her would be at dinner and those never felt like “let’s spend time together.”

She always made it feel more like an interview, but you can’t fault someone for being who they’ve always been. She at least came through when I needed her. Well, financially, not really emotionally. She would leave me in the hands of Maria and Gregory. They were the ones who raised me. The ones who took care of me when I was sick, helped me when I was heartbroken, and made sure I didn’t get into too much trouble. I’m not even sure my grandmother knew what I was even doing daily. She would probably just get a report every day and as long as I followed the rules, she didn’t worry about me.

When I was in college, I thought I might major in business. Trying to take an interest in the family businesses, my grandmother squashed that idea real quick. It was like she was trying to keep me away from them. Shrugging my shoulders, I always thought it was weird but whatever. Pushing her always ended with her giving me some excuse to keep me away.

Though to be honest, I’ve never been very clear on what those “businesses” are. Just some real estate investments as far as I can tell. My grandparents have always been pretty secretive even when Grandpa was alive.

My parents were the same. I remember this one time when I was a kid, we had a job fair at school. We had to dress up and tell the other kids in the class what our parents did for work. When I tried asking my Dad, he would wave me off telling me to “just talk about how we sell things.”

A scoff leaves my mouth when I think about how he never did give me a real answer. I ended up having the worst presentation of everyone. I couldn’t explain to my class what our family sold or even how they sold things. Let’s just say no one was really impressed.

I shake the memory away because I don’t need to think about my parents right now. That only leads me down a dark hole.

I check the clock on my dashboard. Shit!

“Fuck, Blanche! You’re running late,” I mutter to myself. I hate when I’m late. I told Gregory that I would arrive at the mansion by 7 pm, it’s already 6:30. I still have an hour's drive, so I text Gregory to let him know. Grandmother is going to be pissed. One of her biggest pet peeves is tardiness.

My eyes double in size when I see that the gas in my car is low too. “Could this day get any worse?” I speak out loud into the car.

Being late already and now having to stop and grab gas means I’m definitely getting a lecture tonight about managing my time better. My grandmother doesn't spend much time with me, but when she does, she’s quick to give me "advice" on how I should be living my life.

I throw up a prayer whispering to myself, “Please let everything work out and I find a gas station soon. Blanche, take a deep breath. Everything will be fine.”

My hands start to sweat around the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white knowing the summons to my grandmother’s house is getting to me. My stomach feels as if I have a brick sitting at the bottom and my brain seems to be in a fog. I even forgot to check the car for gas before I left the city. Rolling my eyes at myself, knowing that this isn’t like me, I hope Gregory will help me smooth it over.

I smile to myself when I see a gas station at the next exit. I thank my lucky stars and take the exit. I mumble under my breath gleefully, “Yes! Running out of gas wouldn’t have fit into my plans for today.”

The bakery keeps me so busy that I don’t make it out to the mansion as much as I should. I always take whatever route my GPS says so I don’t get stuck in traffic, which causes me to take a different route every time. I never can remember which route always ends up being the best one.

With the sky looking a little angrier than before, my nerves are even more intense than usual. Every time a storm has passed through since I was eight, a panic attack isn’t usually too far behind. Which isn’t a good look for a Marelle. My grandmother saw this as a weakness. Thinking she was helping me, she put me in every type of therapy that you could imagine until she was satisfied that it was snuffed out of me.

Pulling my car into the gas station, I got out of the car to fill up my tank. I start to put my credit card into the machine when the hairs on the back of my neck start to rise. I slowly start to look around, trying not to bring too much attention to myself, but don’t see anyone. It must be the storm fucking with my instincts. “Fuck, Blanche. You’re becoming paranoid and letting the storm mess with you. No one is hunting you.”

I move on trying to shake the feeling of nerves and grab my red cloak from the front seat, wrapping it around myself as if it was armor. The hairs on my neck are still standing up and I have an eerie feeling that eyes are still on me. Glancing left and right, I look around double-checking that there’s no one around. “Shit, Blanche. Get yourself together. No one’s around.”

Checking the gas pump that moves as slow as molasses, it looks like it’s almost done. The gas station seems to be falling apart, if the gas pump is anything to go by, giving it a creepy as fuck feeling. Maybe that’s why I feel like I have eyes on me. Shaking my arms out, I give myself a pep talk.

“You got this. Go inside, use the restroom, and grab a drink.”

Walking towards the front entrance of the gas station, the glass of the front door is so dirty that you can’t see through it. I wonder when was the last time they cleaned it. Trying hard to stay under the awnings so I don’t get my cloak and shoes all muddy. It seems to be a hard task since it’s littered with holes allowing the rain through.

Pulling the door handle open, I still get this feeling that I’m being watched. Knowing that I’m being paranoid, I decide to lean into it and glance back outside, only seeing my car out in the rain. I rub my hand over my face, trying to shake the feeling. I turn back and head towards the restroom. I just need to get out of this place and get back on the road.

I finish in the bathroom and grab a Dr. Pepper on my way to the counter. The attendant’s gaze rakes over my body as his lips part over rotted teeth. The glean in his eye makes me uneasy and only adds to the tension in my shoulders. I need to get the fuck out of here.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing out here? Don’t you know these parts can be dangerous for someone like you?”

He leers at me while gazing his creepy yellow eyes up and down my body. Feeling violated with the way he‘s looking at me, I grab my drink from the counter and cross my arms over my body as if to protect myself. Not wanting to attract any more attention, I paste on a fake smile and say, “Just headed to my grandmother’s house.”

He narrows his eyes like he’s trying to read me and tells me my total for my drink. I handed him a five-dollar bill. When I reach for my change, he grabs my wrist and slyly says, “Hope you have a great day and make it to your grandmother’s house.”

I pull my wrist away and turn to leave. I swear I hear him mumble under his breath “in one piece.”

I dip my head, not wanting to engage any further and rush out of there. I quickly get in my car, start the GPS, and turn back towards the highway. Miles fly by but the sense of foreboding never leaves me. Something was just not right with that attendant and I make a mental note to wipe this route from my GPS so I’ll never run into him. I’m going to have to make sure I check to see what route this is and make sure I don’t take it again.

The closer I get to the mansion, I can feel the loneliness and dread trying to take over and push me back to a time I never want to relive.

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